When Irish Eyes Are Smiling...

I hope she knows...

2008-12-23T09:31:00.000-08:00

How beautiful she is....

Inside and Out.

There is something...

2008-09-16T09:36:00.000-07:00

so incredibly beautiful about my daughter when she looks downward. I have no idea what it is that makes my heart stop beating and my breathing pause when I see her looking down, but it really does something to me. I think it has to do with how delicate her little face is when you can't see her big eyes. I love her face. I love her pretty lips and her pretty coloring and her pretty eyebrows. Everything about her just screams "Prett".

It seems like a lifetime ago....

2008-09-11T19:43:00.000-07:00

and it also seems like yesterday. For me, at least. I am sure if you loved someone who lost their life on that wretched day, you might have different feelings than I do.
7 years ago I came back from Arizona, Daniel in belly, on September 10th, very late at night. I awoke on September 11th to my phone ringing and my father in law saying a plane hit the WTC. I turned on the news just in time to see the 2nd plane hit. It was horrifying. 80 miles away, something sinister was going on. I spent the day, shell shocked, trying to get a hold of my American Airlines NY Based flight attendant friend and her Delta pilot husband. It was 4:00 before I heard from her husband and he assure me she was fine. I had spent the day running through 30 years of Polaroids in my head, my oldest friend starring in most of them. To say that hearing from her husband was a relief is an understatement. I thought for sure I had lost her and in losing her, I lost a part of my history.
That night I drove to see my mom an hour away. The sky was so blue and so incredibly empty. We live on a flight path, so this was an oddity. My mom and I went out for Chinese food. It was an upscale Chinese Joint and we were the only ones there, the AM radio piped in, feeding us one more horrifying news story after another.

My grandmother called me that night. Our conversation was bizarre. She never mentioned the attacks, though she lived 20 miles from them. All I could think was that it must be nice to be oblivious to what is going on- I can't wait to get old.

It seems like no one really remembered this day this year. It makes me sad. It will end up just being like December 7th. No one remembers what important thing happened on December 7th anymore and 2400 people lost their lives that day, 600 shy of how many lost their lives on 9/11. I don't think the people who lost loved ones at the raid on Pearl Harbor ever would have thought that hardly anyone remembers "the day that will live in infamy" 67 years later.

People might not remember this day in 60 years, but if I am alive, I sure will. Because 9/11, to me, was the first time I really realized how charmed life as American has been and I suddenly felt(and still feel)like that sense of security, the arrogance of entitlement is gone. Maybe the latter was a good thing, but it's hard for me to see anything good having come out of that mess. I am sure the victims and their families see it the same way.

2 weeks ago we walked the Brooklyn Bridge and then went by the WTC site. You can;t see in it anymore as construction management companies have obstructed viewing, which is puzzling to me considering that in the months post 9/11, it was an open observatory for the morbidly curious. When we were at the site, I saw a soccer team there posing for team pictures. Like they were in front of the Taj Mahal or White House, not where people dove from fir blazing offices 80 stories up to their terrifying deaths. It all seemed so macabre, so thoughtless, so disrespectful.

Mike's flying home tomorrow. As much as I want to see him, I am glad it is not today.

My husband has the sweetest A$$

2008-09-06T21:29:00.000-07:00

Really, he does. It's not flat, it's got some junk in it (all muscle, though) and I like to watch it. His A$$ was the second thing that initially attracted me to him,after the fact that he could make me laugh like no one else ever could. I know from the first time he made me laugh that I would marry him. The funny part is, most of the time he is making me laugh, he is actually making fun of me. Like this morning when I asked him which presidential library he was going to see in Kansas City (Eisenhower or Truman) he said "If you were gonna lie about having graduated from college you might have wanted to pick another major." (I graduated with a degree in poli sci for those of you who do not know...much of that information was removed from my brain each time I birthed a baby).
He is annoying, too. He rubs his feet together rhythmically and constantly until my sensory sensitive self is ready to crawl out of her skin. He cuts his cuticles for what seems like an hour after he showers. He uses two brushes for all 17 pieces of hair he has remaining in his head and brushes with each brush 20 times.
Anyway, my husband, his sweet A$$ and his smart mouth are going to be on a trip sometime in the near future (no dates because of Internet crazies). I am not thrilled about it. I have this idea in my head that somehow, if I am physically with him, I can protect him and keep him safe. But if I let him out on his own, he will be devoured by wolves. It's a bizarre thought process that goes on in the McMommy's head, but one that I can't stop. This will be the longest we have ever been apart since our first date. It doesn't feel right. I will miss him. Even if he chews croutons too loud or slurps his soup and I view kitchen knives as weapons that I must not touch or I will go to jail every time we sit down to dinner.

Am I the only one....

2008-08-13T12:02:00.000-07:00

Who thinks Michael Phelps has the body of an adonis?
Good God.

and to think....

2008-08-08T06:54:00.000-07:00

I felt insulted when a bride whose wedding I was in was particular about what color under garments we wore.....
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/24/fashion/24skin.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

Sometimes I feel like an awful person...

2008-08-02T22:31:00.001-07:00

but this is not one of those days.
My MIL made her usual 5 calls before noon on a Saturday today. Most of the time I let it go to voice mail and today was no exception. I think only speaking with her once a day is quite sufficient. I am convinced that to the elderly, the phone becomes a weapon.
Anyway, most of the messages involve some crying and desperation. She never addresses me in the messages, just Mike *or if she can't remember his name at the time she calls, he becomes a sibling*. Most of the calls frankly, annoy me and I feel bad about that (at times..not when she wakes my kids up right after I get them to sleep). Today's last message actually made me sad. It was thundering our and the message she left was awful. She told us that she had no electricity and that she was sitting in the hallway crouched in the middle because she was so scared of the storm.
How. Does. That. Not. Make. You. Feel. Sad? Standing in the hallway, scared of the storm is something a pet or a small child would do, not an adult. It made me sad to think how incredibly terrifying the smallest things must be to her, living alone.
So, despite the fact that I have 50 people coming to my house tomorrow for my sister's 40th and my grandfather's 98th, I told Mike to go get her, trying really hard not to direct some anger towards his useless brother who lives down the street from her and has not seen her since the last time he took money from her a few months ago.
So, she has been here all night. At one point, I was sitting on the couch, painting Caroline's nails and she just stood there and stared at us for 10 minutes, right in my personal space. I am claustrophobic to begin with, so the crowding almost made me crawl out of my sin.
Tomorrow I asked her to wash windows. At least it will keep her out of my space. Plus, they are pretty dirty.

I think

2008-08-01T09:04:00.000-07:00

As a society....
we have become....
far too serious.

There is....

2008-07-31T19:08:00.000-07:00

far too much yelling that goes on here.
Amazingly, I have become the least yelly person in the house.
It's amazing how when you stop doing it, you see other doing it and realize how incredibly futile and useless screaming is.

Captain Hazelton, where were you?

2008-07-30T09:20:00.000-07:00

Business at hand first. I must have really liked that video to post it twice, I guess. Go take a look. I thought it was Hysterical.

My basement currently looks like the Exxon Valdez has taken a stroll through it. Well, it's partially cleaned up and we've had Greenpeace all over that $hit, thank you very much.

This morning, at 4:00 am, my husband woke up to a screaming, pee covered Caroline. Lately she has been peeing the bed again. Before say you say "UTI", I must tell you that the girl is a camel. She drinks and drinks and drinks some more and pees very little. Our bad for not pushing the potty before bed. Anyway, somehow, through the haze of urine smell, he was able to detect the odor of oil. He went down in the basement and to what should his wandering eyes should appear? But a terrible hole in the oil tank, we fear.

So we spent the better part of the morning cleaning it up, getting the oil company to so kindly come out for an EMERGENCY (see...will cost you an arm and a leg bill) visit and genuinely cursing the ancient furnace and accoutrement as well as Darren McGavin in A Christmas Story. (Side note....Ralphie in real life is Vince Vaughn's BFF...I rented Vince Vaughn's Wild West Comedy Show whcih was produced by Peter Billingsley and found out this factoid and thought you would all enjoy some useless trivia)

Ah...Home Ownership...the AMERICAN DREAM.

Feeding your Effing Family

2008-07-29T19:25:00.002-07:00

Target Women: Feeding Your F---ing Family

2008-07-29T19:25:00.001-07:00

Hate filled diatribe

2008-07-28T09:23:00.002-07:00

Lord...

Please put one hand over my shoulder and one hand over my mouth....

I saw that today on a billboard outside a church...I think it was apropos considering...

I can't stand my MIL's situation anymore...
I can't stand that my entire weekend is always spent with her.
I can't stand the person I become when I am around her.
I hate that I tense up the minute I know we are picking her up or that she is in my presence.
I hate that I find myself being mean to her when mean is just really not an adjective I usually associate with myself.
I hate that my husband feels guilty if she is all alone, so he arranges to go pick her up and then dumps her on me while he works in the yard or goes running while she literally stalks me in every room I am in, repeating the same things every 60 seconds to me with no recollection that she has said them.
I hate that I look like a meanie to my kids who constantly want to know "Why doesn't Grammy just move in with us?"
I hate that she makes my son feel like he is responsible for her by saying "I'm all alone all day, wouldn't you like to spend the day with Grammy rather than go to school (ummm Camp. Get with the program).
I hate that I can't stand to even go in her house because it smells so bad and I hate that I can't sit outside her house it is such a dump that I feel guilty that we don't do enough.
I hate that she brings that smell with her to my house, which means extra laundry and cleaning for me on Sunday nights.
I hate that she cries all the time, even when she is with us.
I hate that I once loved to spend time with her and now I count the minutes till she goes home.
I hate that I can't just have her over for a two hour dinner because she ends up spending 2 days here.
I hate that my husband won't force any decisions until he meets with all of his siblings, which will never happen so we are in limbo with her.
I hate that if she is not with someone at all times, she is calling. I look at my caller id at the end of the day and she calls a minimum of 10 times a day, even if we are at work.
I hate that we do her bills now and she harasses us endlessly about them.
I hate that she refuses to let us have someone cut her lawn besides family.
I hate that she refuse to let us have groceries delivered to her house, so someone is always running to her house with milk and bread.
I hate that my husband has made me the heavy in all of this, saying to me "Well, you don't want her to move in with us" to absolve himself from guilt.
I hate that he can't see that our marriage and our family would be destroyed by her living here.
I hate that Mike has two other siblings who do jack shit and another that is in the same boat as us.
I just hate this all and I needed to vent.

Summer children

2008-07-21T13:05:00.000-07:00

What lies behind us and what lies before us are
small matters compared to what lies within us.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

The temp

2008-07-20T21:16:00.000-07:00

I've had a temp reporting to me since November. Truthfully, she was supposed to be with us for only 6 weeks, but I liked her and found her lots of things to keep her busy. I also overlooked the fact that she called in sick all the time, took alot of unpaid days for trips & dressed like a street walker because, well, I am just not confrontational & it would have been pointless to point these things out because really, in the grand scheme of things..not even a blip in the radar. Because when it comes down to it, nothing connected to me at work really matters. Work is like this annoying thing I have to do every day, but I look at it and think "this is not real." It's not my life, it just supports my life.
Anyway, my temp got a real job, much to my chagrin. Mostly because now I have to train someone else to do this job and the last temp was so easy to train that I had lots more free time to do more important things like Facebook.
So, I got resumes for two temps. Neither made we want to dance a jig, so I just randomly said to co-workers "Dorothy or Bernice, pick one" without letting them knwo who they were pickign for what. So, I went with Dorothy based on the tabulation of the random votes of people who had no idea what they were voting for.
So in comes Dorothy. And she looks familiar. Not in the "OMG, you were the girl who cleaned throw up off me in college and helped me into bed and I have wanted to tank you forever" kind of way, but in the "OH Shit, did I steal her boyfriend?" kind of way. Turns out, she is from my hometown. And she went to middle school with me. AND SHE SCARED ME TO DEATH in middle school. Seriously, I was petrified of her. And she was so MEAN to me. She was perfectly nice and gracious when she came in the other day and I am sure she is lovely, but I can't help but STILL be scared of her. Like if she really sucks and I have to get another temp, will she beat me up?

Who am I kidding? Even if she sucks, you know I will keep her on. Because I have no backbone.

Breaking up is hard to do...

2008-07-16T13:40:00.000-07:00

Part of the reason for my long silence in blog land has to do with the inability to speak about so many of the things that are not quite going swimmingly right. Be it that I am afraid of airing my dirty laundry out or that I don't want people to judge me or those I love, I am not sure, but something has kept me from sharing the painful stuff with you.

It's been a hard year. My MIL's situation has really caused a phenomenal amount of discontent in pretty much everyone who has contact with hers life. It has been a draining, soul sucking, scary and completely overwhelming experience having a difficult, stubborn, depressed and demented person who will do nothing about her situation as a CONSTANT presence in out lives. The impending doom of a layoff. Tight money situations. The daily stress of running a house hold. A month ago it just turned into the Perfect $hit Storm and, well, it was nearly the end of the McFamily. Things blew up, realizations were made and there are a whole lot of fences that finally need to be rebuilt, not just mended. Not to get into too much in the way of details, but I was this close to walking out that door and never turning back a month ago, something that has never even entered my mind. Despite some pretty crappy treatment over the years, there was never a point in our marriage that I didn't still look at my husband and think despite his total dickish behavior that I loved him to bits. But a month ago, I no longer felt that way. I stopped caring if this whole stack of cards collapsed. I no longer felt like I had to Ki$$ ass just for the sake of keeping things status quo. I came to the realization that if he thinks I am disposable, let him dispose of me. Because I know I am not disposable.

A funny thing happened. An epiphany hit him. It hit him that I no longer needed him the way he thought I did. And it was a call to action for him.

Now I am not saying it's all peaches and cream and fairy tale endings. Heavens no. But there is work being done, on BOTH of our parts, especially on the part of the one who is not airing the dirty laundry on the Internet. I am finally saying to him without fear of being screamed at "You know what, it pisses me off when I have to carry in all the grocery bags myself". It's nice to finally have my voice again.

I was talking to friend of mine a few weeks ago about this situation and a light bulb went off in my head about marriage. I always thought people got divorced because of the big issues...cheating, money, falling out of love. But I've reformed my opinion. I think more people get divorced because life is just really F*cking hard and unfortunately, marriages are the casualty of that pain.

Question for all of you...

2008-07-11T12:23:00.000-07:00

Do you want me to still maintain this body of evidence?
Because if you do, I need some ideas, people.
Give me something to write about...
Here are some choices
1) My many many many ex-boyfriends and other dalliances. This will mean, SLB, that your good alias name will be aired out like dirty laundry.
2) My kids...boring boring, blah blah...we all have cute kids, Suzanne.
3) My crazy effing MIL
4) The time I went to jail.
5) Days of youth in sin city, the Dirty Water.
6) You're write in vote.

Ignore my big head

2008-06-03T09:34:00.001-07:00

And look at my beautiful family and our self portraits from this AM

Happy Birthday to me....

2008-05-19T12:01:00.000-07:00

May 12th, 2008.
I'm 36.

Sometimes only chocolate can make her happy....

2008-05-19T11:56:00.000-07:00

But that's okay...she is beautiful even when she cries.

Git yer update

2008-04-23T08:57:00.000-07:00

This will be a hodge podge of random thoughts that are occurring in my head right now.
The first has to do with crying broke on the Internet. I'm guilty of it at times, admittedly. But this week, two of my favorite bloggers did it (no one you know) and it bugged me. One put a tip jar on her site to pay for a blogger conference even though she just took a long vacation, bought a piece of land in the mountains and quit her job to freelance. The second is moving into her vacation property and renting out her McMansion in lieu of either she or her husband getting a real job (you know, 9-5, sucking up the office BS). The first one I am viewing as a sell out because I so enjoyed reading her until the point when she started asking her readers for money, the second I am viewing as so out of touch with reality it is not even funny. Get. a J. O. B. End of that rant.
__________________________________________________________________________________
I think I am so sensitive because of what is looming on the horizon for our little family. Next week we find out when Mike will lose his job. Granted, he has great plans for going back and finishing grad school and has set the wheels in motion for that, but the prospect of losing about 60% of our gross annual salary is unnerving. I fear losing everything as the result of him losing his job. I dread the lifestyle change. And for completely selfish reasons, I dread the fact that going on a vacation is out of the question this year and I really really really need a vacation (spoiled girl, I know, go cry in your new kitchen).

____________________________________________________________________________________
SLB came visiting to Connecticut. It was really nice to see him after 11 years. 11 years. He is exactly the same. Just older. And with a really pretty and lovely wife.
____________________________________________________________________________________
Daniel has been incredibly fresh lately. I have cut off all tween programming as a result after actually sitting through some of the shows last weekend. Those kids (particularly iCarly & Zack and Cody) are so disrespectful to adults. So they are now memories in our house. Calling your mom a loser and telling her to shut up are not exactly things I have taught him, so I am deducing this is courtesy of these shows.

I think that is it.... for now.

Six Years Old

2008-03-25T16:30:00.000-07:00

Was he really ever this little?

Happy Birthday Beautiful, Beautiful Boy.
Now stop flying the Havoc Heli directly into my beautiful new coffered ceilings.

Beautifulness

2008-03-13T11:56:00.000-07:00

Sillyness

2008-03-13T11:39:00.000-07:00

Awesomeness

2008-03-13T11:37:00.001-07:00

Meme 2007

2008-01-02T12:38:00.000-08:00

1. What did you do in 2007 that you’d never done before?
I took the kids to NYC by myself.

2. Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
No neh never.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yes. 3 close friends IRL and 2 close friends on the net

4. Did anyone close to you die?
My grandmother

5. What countries did you visit?
Just this one

6. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?
Restraint. Restraint from eating too muhc, restraint from yelling as much, restraint from losing my patience as much.

7. What date from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory?
So many, but my 10 year anniversary on 12/27 is up there.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Nothing overly remarkable. Just being a good mommy and friend.

9. What was your biggest failure?
My weight.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Nope

11. What was the best thing you bought?
so many things. I think for the kids, it would be crocs. They wore them too death. For me...lots of kitchen stuff.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Daniel really adjusting well to kindergarten with the exception of a few blips.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Daniel at times.

14. Where did most of your money go?
To my kitchen

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
My new sewing machine.

16. What song/album will always remind you of 2007?
Hey there Delilah

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
Happier or sadder? Happier!
Thinner or fatter? same
Richer or poorer? About the same.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Sewing

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Procrastinating

20. How will you be spending/did you spend Christmas?
Christmas Eve- My house, then SIL's. Christmas Day...my MIL's. new years Day...my sisters and my SIL's.

21. Who did you spend the most time on the phone with?
My mom

22. Did you fall in love in 2007?
A little more every day with my beautiful family

23. How many one-night stands in this last year?
Um, none.

24. What was your favorite TV program?
The office

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
No. I dislike a certain in law more now, but hate is such a strong word.

26. What was the best book(s) you read?
The Memory of Running by Ron McClarty

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
???

28. What did you want and get?
New digital

29. What did you want and not get?
Time to myself

30. What were your favorite films of this year?
Martian Child. Just cause I love me some Cusack.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
We went to Boston on my 35th birthday where I proceeded to be a critchedy old hag for the entire trip, ruining my own day.
32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
If my MIL was not so draining.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?
I fell in love with big bulky scarves at this end of this year. I liek to pretend I am Nicole Richie.

34. What kept you sane?
Chocolate

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Hugh Grant. I have a mad crush on him.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
Nothing. I am numb to politics at this point.

37. Who did you miss?
I missed Amy Long last Name. I wish we got together when she was up here.

38. Who was the best new person you met?
Not sure

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007.
Keep your mouth shut. It solves a multitude of problems.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year?
Our house...is a very very very fine house...with two cats (kids) in the yard...
life used to be so hard...now everything is easy cause of you...

Mama

2007-12-29T20:28:00.000-08:00

The first time I met my MIL, it was at my SIL's house. She turned around and looked at me and it freaked me out how much my husband looked like her. What little did I know but a few years later I would produce an heir who looked MORE like her than my husband even did. My MIL actually got acquainted with me prior to me even making her acquaintance because she laundered my underwear. My husband, ever the bachelor, brought his Italian Mama his laundry every week, even though he was 33 years old and had his own house and washer and dryer. My purple thong got stuck in with the laundry. My FIL, upon meeting me for the first time said "So, your the one who wears purple underwear.". I could have DIED RIGHT THERE. I was instantly in love with my FIL and for the first few years, totally in love with her, too. In the next few years, her untreated depression and anxiety disorder began to grate on my nerves, but my love for her never has wavered.
These past 4 and a half years since Danny died have been hard. When my FIL died, a part of my MIL died as well. The biggest part. From what I understand, my MIL was always prone to depression since her own father died 45 years ago in February and she would not allow a Christmas tree that year. From what I understand, she took to her bed and all the happiness just left her body. She loved to sing prior to this, but stopped singing in 1962, only to briefly begin again in 1964 when Mike surprised his 40 year old parents with his arrival. Throughout the years, her depression took hold of her often. Don't get me wrong, she was once really fun to be around. But she has always had a flair for the dramatic, something I just chalked up to her Italian heritage(no offense to the paisanos out there, but I grew up in an Italian neighborhood, I am familiar with the hard core Italian theatrics).
This has been a year of rapid decline for my MIL. The untreated depression (she is stubborn as a mule and has threatened the life of anyone who brought this up to her doctor), the inability to hear (despite spending 2 grand on a hearing aid this year she refuses to wear it), the lack of sleep (her sleeping habits are awful) and the poor nutrition (if she is not at our house or my SIL's or her daughters she does not eat) and her family history of dementia have greatly influenced her decline. There have been many incidents over the past 6 months that have had us all greatly worried, but utterly paranoid to do anything for fear of further agitating her already weak psyche. She is still driving (never to my house as we will not allow it and never with my kids except for one incident this summer where I completely lost my shit after finding out she took Daniel not only in the car, but without a car seat), despite the fact that she got lost driving to my SIL's house from home a few months back and had ANOTHER fender bender. None of us have had the balls enough to take her car away yet. She is living in her house still and it is falling into the ground. 2 years ago Mike and his brotehr bought the house from her (kind of like a reverse mortgage only they hold the mortgage instead of a bank) so that she would have money to live on. She was living off 600.00 a month SS prior to that. They gave her money in her bank account from the sale and put the rest in gifted CD's to protect it as well as put aside 10 years of mortgage payments. There wasn't much to begin with there, I assure you. In the past 6 months, her account has dwindled rapidly, and I know Mike's otehr brother who cannot bother to show up for holidays or to help out at fucking all has been fleecing her blind. Recently he took 2 grand from her for fucking Christmas presents, yet amusingly, he could not botehr to show up for Christmas dinner. But that is either here nor there. I have had far too many fights with Mike about his brother and his take take taking and lack of give give giving that I can't do it anymore.
She was insistent on having Christmas dinner, though all she remembered to buy was to ham. We all brought food there. She also forgot to buy Christmas gifts. And she has called me twice today to wish us a happy anniversary, 2 days after the fact. She is confused, she cries all the time and she is so sad.
This is going to be a tough few months. The involved siblings (Brother in PA, SIL and Mike) are going to have to take her car away. Someone has to take over her finances because eitehr she is losing large sums of money or that asshole is robbing her blind. And then there is the living arrangements. She is at our house 2 nights a week as it is, sometimes more. She stays at my SIL's sometimes and has lunch at Mike's nieces every day. But I am afraid she will no longer be able to live at home for much longer. And that scares me. I am ready to have a nervous breakdown anytime she is here for more than a day. The crying, the stubbornness, the combativeness dissolve me to tears. And I fear she will end up living here. We're the only ones with the space to have her move in where she wouldn't have to climb floors. I am sure my SIL and Mike's niece will be here every day while I am at work, but the nights will be all us. I am afraid my marriage will not survive it. I don't think she si ready for a home yet. She still has her wits about her somewhat. After she has completely lost it, I'd be okay with it, but for now, I'd hate to see what ti would do to her. And it is her biggest fear on earth right now, considering that all she talks about is about how her sister was put in one by her kids this year and "she does not belong there". Her oldest sister (deceased) talked to people in the TV (and they talked back) for 5 years before she died. My MIL told us yesterday that a voice told her not to drive to the store yesterday. It's getting worse.

Anyway, I just had to share this with you. Please, no advice unless you have BTDT. I find that people who have not gone through this directly say say shit like "You have to ...take away her car...move her into a home...force her on meds...." and it annoys the fuck out of me. Until you have been in this situation with someone you love, you have no idea how incredibly hard it is to have to do those kinds of things. Especially with a force to be reckoned with like my MIL. Just say prayers for strength for all of us.

Oh MY

2007-12-11T15:49:00.001-08:00

This is AWESOME. Suddenly, I feel a love for Alex Trebek that I have never felt. We are so very much alike. Get well Alex!!!

Happy Birthday Baby Girl......

2007-12-01T20:15:00.000-08:00

December 2nd will never ever be the same. Thank you for adding the perfect blend of pink, stubborness, kindness, drama and absolute and utter joy to all of our lives. I am ever so grateful that I received my Christmas Caroline for a gift in December of 2004. (The picture in the black dress is me the night we conceived her at the Plaza Hotel, March 6th, 2004...isn't it cool that I have a picture of her when I did not even know I had her in there?)

My son has the best Daddy in the whole wide world

2007-11-22T19:32:00.000-08:00

Because if he did not, he would not have gotten to go to the Macy's T-Day parade 2 years in a row. Rise at 4:30 am, on the train by 5:25. The Mister got to not only sit up front, but was also given a pair of drum sticks by a member of one of the marching bands, in response to his voracious clapping and support. The kid just has something that draws people to him...So without further ado, here are some pretty lousy pictures The Daddy took...

Things that make no sense to me

2007-11-14T11:29:00.000-08:00

How on earth that this poor man puts up with his wife?

She demeans him, belittles him and treats him like a child. She even makes the poor man get his teeth cleaned at the pediatric dentist and his hair done at Kids Cuts.

And this guy....

Okay, lets put aside the creepy age difference. Let's forget about the 3rd wife being found dead in a dry bathtub, supposedly drowned. What I find most frightening about this dude is his statement this morning:

"He explained that he had not joined the search for her because his presence would attract yet more media attention. And he offered one other reason: "Why would I look for somebody who I don't believe is missing? She's just gone. She's where she wants to be." He said he believed she was with another man.

"She found someone else—those were her exact words," he said.

He couldn't explain why Stacy hadn't contacted anyone since her disappearance Oct. 28."

Seriously moron, you have been a cop for what, more years than your wife was on this earth? Your first mistake was for TALKING in the 1st place. Even I know these things and my law enforcement background is gleaned entirely from L & O, SVU.
But it is the statement you made that convicted you in the court of public opinion. Your 23 year old wife and mother of your two small children goes missing after having suffered what you describe as mental health issues after the death of her sister and you don't bother to look for her because she is "where she wants to be?". What, in a lake? Or in the ground? You aren't looking for her because YOU KNOW WHERE SHE IS.

Someday he will find my blog

2007-11-06T07:09:00.000-08:00

and be surprised by all of the nice things I have to say about him.

Last night The Mister woke up puking everywhere. He's had a bad cold for a few days, but no fever. The girl had the fever for him..LOL. Anyway, it's one am and I am sound asleep with sickie girl curled up next to me and I hear my husband in the misters room taking care of him and cleaning up vomit. He was so gentle with him, so kind, so compassionate. I know dads are supposed to be this way, but lets face it, not all men would quietly take care of their vomiting child and not get their wives up to help out.

He's a good dad. Through our ups and downs, one thing has never faltered. He is 100% committed to being a dad. And that makes me happy.

Happy Fall/Autumn/Solstice or whatever PC term you use.

2007-11-01T10:52:00.001-07:00

What kind of fan sleeps through her team winning the series?

2007-10-29T20:24:00.000-07:00

Yeah, that would be me.

In other news, we have no heat. It's Nearly November.
The heating guy was supposed to come to do the new pipes for the kithen 2 weeks ago. A plague on his toasty warm house, I say.
Currently, our thermostat is reading a toasty warm 54 degrees.
Which when I think about it, is really only 4 degrees less than the frigid 58 degrees my cheap ass husband insists it be on. If I did not know any better, this heating guy was probably told by my husband to delay coming some that he coudl pinch a few pennies.
Off to steal every bit of heat emmitted off of my warm blooded husband.

Now I know why I married him

2007-10-27T10:06:00.000-07:00

Today we were discussing the design for our kitchen island. After I added yet another item to the island (another shelf in addition to the beverage fridge, the wine rack and the microwave), my husband turned around and said to me :
"How big do you think this island is going to be? It's a kitchen island. Not Manhattan island."

My husband is funny. I like that about him.

In other news. Youklis out. Big Papi in tonight. Heaven help us on 1st and pray Ortiz hitting is on. I know the reasoning for pulling Youk due the size of CO's outfield and the DH rule. But as much as I love baseball, I truly do not understand why the National League does not allow DH's. Someone, can you explain to me the reason the AL allows it but the NL does not?

CLASSY

2007-10-25T10:50:00.000-07:00

This is from last week's ALC win.
I stole this from an awesome new blog I found www.redsoxdad.blogspot.com.

Jonathon Papelbon is nothing but pure class. I don't know what I find classier in this picture. The fact that he is pouring a BUD LIGHT all over the newly aquired trophy or the fact that a Professional Athlete (and role model!) has a stogie hanging out of his mouth.

That's about all I've got to say about that...

2007-10-25T06:25:00.001-07:00

My love for Josh Beckett is beginning to rival my love for John Cusack. Thankfully for John, Martian Child is coming out on the 2nd so that John can get back in 1st place.

I predict a 5 game series, but hope for 4 games. Baseball is beginning to put me in a bad mood with staying up late every night.

"Champagne tastes good at home"....

2007-10-22T06:53:00.000-07:00

Quote courtesy of Kevin Youklis

A message to Dice-K

2007-10-21T16:05:00.000-07:00

Earn your freaking 100+ million tonight, thank you very much. I know it cost us 50 million just to flipping TALK to you about POSSIBLY joining our team, but seriously, you overgrown prima donna, it's game time, literally and figuratively. Bring. It. On. A repeat of what Schilling did last night would be perfectly okay. Beckett's performance (and his smoking hot ass) was model worthy as well.
Thank you very much or, so that we are on the same wave length....Arigatou gozaimasu.

Passed on to me from Insurance Mom's blog (thanks Sue!)

2007-10-18T10:36:00.000-07:00

For all the Red Sox fans out there

Our Father, who art at Fenway...
Baseball be thy game.
They Kingdom come,
Playoffs need to be won,
On Earth, then on to the Cask 'n' Flagon.

Give us this day, a perfect Papi,
And forgive us our losses,
As we forgive those,
Like Bill Buckner.

And lead us not, into desperation,
But deliver us from any losses.

For thine is the Power,
And the Glory,
To beat the Indians,
Forever and ever....the Yankees suck

A-men

Hail Mary
Full of fenway franks,
Red Sox be with thee.
Blessed art thou among baseball fans
and please bless the arm of thy man Beckett
Holy Mary,
Mother of God,
pray for us Sox fans now,
and especially after the fourth inning.
Amen.

Someday this will be a nice kitchen

2007-10-01T07:52:00.000-07:00

October is the saddest month

2007-10-01T07:50:00.000-07:00

Look what we did this weekend. I hate when we have to cover the pool. It feels like an end, rather than a beginning...

I feel this way Every. Day. Of. My. Life.

2007-10-01T07:32:00.000-07:00

Do you?

Guess what new skill my son picked up this week?

2007-09-28T07:34:00.000-07:00

Guess who was Line Leader?

2007-09-28T07:33:00.001-07:00

I dream of Houses

2007-09-27T10:45:00.000-07:00

I had a beautiful dream last night.

Just for some background, we're doing some kitchen renovations right now. For this phase, we knocked down a wall in between the kitchen and the den, put up a new carrying beam, are going to lay hardwood throughout the entire kitchen and put up coffered ceilings. That is, after the door to the garage is moved and a new playroom door is put in as well as a window and the back door are taken out and replaced with french doors. If there is any money left over, our refrigerator, which was purchase in 1937 and originally resides at our old house in the garage after we replaced it and it's friends with all new appliances only to move into this house and have the owners want to take their new appliances with them , again leaving me with appliances circa 1937, will be replaced. In addition we will be re-sheet rocking and taping and painting. For Phase 2, which will come after taxes, we will be replacing the counters with granite and adding an island. We aren't replacing the cabinets, just painting them since they are pretty sound. In addition, we'll be getting rid of the black splash and replacing maybe one appliance. The next phase, phase 3 , will encompass the final purchase of needed appliances and the purchase of a huge Farm table and hutch, getting rid of the need for a formal dining room,which is where the den will now be. But again, all of this must be done in a phased in approach because 1) My husband is doing most of this himself. 2) We're not rich. 3) I would rather live in squalor than take an equity loan out on my house because Gosh Darn It, I want to retire someday and creating more debt just ain't the way to do that. Hence why I drive a 7 year old car with 120,000 miles on it. SWEET.

Anyway, not that you really care about my stupid little project, but it does provide some background to the story I am about to tell. My dream was all about a house that my husband surprised me with. Think Miracle of Thirty Fourth Street, Golden Girls Style. Apparently in my dream I lived in Florida or California and my house was in the middle of a colony of houses and it was part of a resort liek the MGM Grand. There was a river pool and , my niece and nephew were there, but curiously, I had no actual children myself. My niece and nephew gratuitously helped themselves to towels and told me that we did not need to return them because they are free to everyone who lives here. The kitchen in my new house was smoking, and my biggest issue with it was the fact that the island was so big that I could not fit a table in the kitchen. I remember wondering why someone would choose Rattan cabinets, but then quickly let that leave my mind when I found out that we had an actual live in chef and maid to serve all of our needs. Somewhere in the course fo this dream, I had fleeting thoughts of my actual house in CT and at some point I asked the McDaddy what happened to the old house and he said "That dump? We gave it away". The house had the most beautiful sunken in tub. Only it was outside. Like a fountain in the front yard. And oddly, I was okay with bathing in the great wide open.

This morning I woke up quite happy. Until I opened the fridge. The disgusting, 1937 fridge that I have cursed every single day for 4 years saying "You were supposed to be a GARAGE FRIDGE, not the MAIN Fridge" had ceased to be in the land of the living. I called The McDaddy up and explained that he needed to come home because there was a Death in the Family. He got nervous and when I reveled what it was, he cursed at me for scaring him. But seriously, the loss of a beloved appliance is devastating. Oh, I did not love this particular appliance, but the fact is, this MOFO owed me a few months. I was not prepared to purchase a fridge at this juncture. And apparently neither is my husband because, despite the fact that is has been factored into this phase of the remodel, he has decided that instead of making a hasty purchase now, we must wait. So, as if the 1937 fridge did not suck enough, now I get the joy of having the 1927 basement fridge, which was lovingly stocked this morning by yours truly in a fit of rage and disgust against 1937 as I was trying to get out the door to work, moved upstairs. I am convinced that I will never have appliances that were specifically purchased by me for me. I came so close at the old house of actually cooking a meal in the old stove for Christmas, but a month after purchasing the stove, the house went on the market. So, I enjoyed new appliances for like 3 months in my entire life. Because the current appliances I have are 1) a Dishwasher McDaddy got off a job site that the owner was never going to use 2) a Microwave that came with the house. 3) a Stove that was at our friends house until they remodeled and bought a Mother Effing 8 burner Viking and gave us their MAGIC CHEF. You heard me. MAGIC CHEF. I never even knew there was an appliance manufacturer named MAGIC CHEF, but I am willing to bet by the level of uneven cooking, it is on par with the EQUATE brand. Low Budget, serves a purpose.

I really want to Go back to Bed and dream of the life that was almost mine...in my Dreams. Bathtub in front yard and all.

Confession time

2007-09-25T13:19:00.000-07:00

I'm a Yeller. And a swearer. And sometimes those two lovely characteristics meet. And sometimes I Yell and swear AT MY CHILDREN. I am not proud of it. But after 17 rounds of..."Caroline, please get in your car seat, child. Car*oline, please get in your carseat, princess. Car*oline, please get in your car seat Honey bunch or mommy will do it for you. Car*oline, I know you want to do it ALL BY YOURSELF, but it's been 15 minutes and Mommy is late for work and you need to get in your seat, sometimes I lose my patience and all the sweetness in the world dissipates and I morph into my mother. And then you hear the following phrase uttered out of my mouth in a guttural scream to my 2 year old. "Car*oline GET YOUR A$$ in the car seat NOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW".

And then I feel bad. Because Good Mommas aren't supposed to swear at sweet cherubs in pigtails trying to be Big Girls. And the Mister...Oh My, that child can bring me to the point of screaming faster than the girl could ever dream of.

I think I need to develop some patience. And a cleaner vocabulary. Because swearing at your babies just makes you look like you should be drinking a 40 on your front porch while smoking Newports and having your Baby Daddy locked up while the crew of COPS films the entire event.

Bad working mother

2007-09-18T06:57:00.000-07:00

I rarely if ever read anything that even remotely delves into the territory of the WOHM vs. SAHM debate. Over the past 5 and a half years, I think I have become savvy enough to realize that the people who debate this topic really are just trying to justify their point of view out of some deep seeded guilt or jealousy or superiority complex or some other effed up rationale. Sorry, won’t go there.
But then I read this article. And then the comments. http://www.redbookmag.com/home/mom-blog/working-mom-nightmare#comments

And then my head exploded. WTF?
Seriously. The women who responded to this may very well be the nastiest people I have ever seen. If these women think they are doing such a phenomenal job “raising” their kids, than they may want to take a look in the mirror and look at the lessons they are teaching their children through their own actions. If this is how they look at other people, through judgmental eyes, than they are teaching their kids really lousy lessons.
The thing is, I have been in this person’s situation more times than I care to remember. I remember one time I was at work and I had a 3:00 conference call that I could not miss. The Girl was supposedly sick at 12:00 according to the daycare (tugging on ears). At the time I was working in Hartford, The Daddy was working in New Britain and we were both an hour away from home. I left work at 12:05, because for some reason, there is like this unwritten rule that the Mommy always takes more of the heat at work when there is a sick kid than the Daddy does. I picked her up by 1:15. I had her at the doctors at 1:45. I had her home by 2:45 with a clean bill of health. Jumped on the conference call at 3:00. Girl commenced screaming at 3:05. My shirt became unbuttoned at 3:06. I got off the call at 3:52. I spent the entire time I was on the conference call with a child latched on to me. After I got off the call, I called a co-worker to see how they thought the call went. She said she had no idea because they put the phone on mute and laughed the whole time talking about what I must be doing to keep the girls mouth shut. At one point one of my male co-workers swore he heard a SLURP.

The thing is, drop off and pick up and sicknesses are the worse parts of being a WOHM. The worst. The juggling act requires the assistance of medication for many of my friends, myself included at times. Not that I expect a metal or anything, because HELLO, it’s just reality. I was at the park with a neighborhood mom and she said to me “I have no idea how you do it.” Sometimes I wonder if that remark is patronizing or a compliment, but I chose to take it as a compliment. This time I responded with “Well, it’s nothing heroic. People rise to the occasion whatever their circumstances. I’ve been a working mom forever, so it would probably be a rough adjustment for me to be home so I think “Wow, I have no idea how Susan does it. But I guess you just do, right?”

Anyway, I am tired of this whole thing. I am tired of the arguments; I am tired of the one upmanship. I realized this fall when my kid started school that no one can really tell the difference between a SAH child and a daycare child. The Mister’s kindergarten teacher proved that point to me at the first parent night. We were talking about the fact that Mister is a Chatty Cathy and she said “How did you keep up with him for 5 years at home with all that talking? He must have exhausted you by the end of the day”. I said “Well, he’s been in daycare.” She was shocked that this child who has no control over the amount of talking that he does was actually in a super structured environment for 5 + years. (By the way, the talking thankfully is the only complaint we have gotten thus far about behaviors…fingers crossed).

So, that is my final word on the topic. I will never read a thing about this again. By the way...this proves my theory...women hate other women. I read somewhere a few weeks ago that the battle for womens equality with men is long over. Now we just need to convince ourselves that we are equal. Makes sense. We do more to set each other back than we do to bring each other up.

School days

2007-09-05T08:08:00.000-07:00

Tonight is the Mister's "Back to School" night for parents. The Daddy and I are going and I am curious what his teacher has to say about her impressions of The Mister.
In April, The Daddy and I went to see the principal of the Misters school to give her an idea about Daniel. The good, the bad and the ugly. We did this not because we were
demanding a certain teacher, but because we thought it might be a good idea for the principal to be aware that The Mister could pose some challenges outside of the norm, so
putting him in the right class with the right teacher would be pretty important in this case. I believe we did the right thing because the principal placed him with the
most experienced teacher, the one who is stern but loving and in the a.m. when Mister is in the best frame of mind for learning. I also believe that the principal of his school kicks A$$
for actually listening to us. I really haven't spoken much with his teacher yet. I am curious to see what gems have come out of the Mister's mouth. I gave her no forewarning since I wanted her to make her own impression about my kid.

The transition to kindergarten has been awesome for our Mister. The truth is, I think half the reason why he was getting into so much trouble in day care was because he was just done with that place.
Granted, the miserable excuse for a co-teacher that he had did it's share of damage, but I think most of the problem was a result of utter and complete boredom. This year we have taken a different approach to his schooling. Mondays my MIL will get him on and off the bus for his half day of kindergarten. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday Mister goes to the before school program, then to kindergarten for a half day, then to the after kindergarten program and then gets on a the bus at 3;17. On Fridays, it will be the same as Thursdays except The Daddy will get him off the bus instead of his baby sitter. The baby sitter is AWESOME.

All of this crazy scheduling is actually good for the Mister. He's a kid who like to change things up. He is also a kid who craves and needs one on one time. So, despite the fact that it is costing us a bit more to pay someone to get him off the bus, I think the long term investment in Mister is worth it. He is so incredibly excited about what every new day brings that it's hard not to feel the good energy coming from him. He goes to bed more easily and is much more compliant. All and all, despite the fact that it has only been less than a week and I probably just cursed myself, I have a good feeling about this year for Mister. I like seeing him so happy and excited. I am also immensely proud of him. He really has faced each new journey this past week with total courage. I love him to pieces.

The Sister is doing phenomenal in her new day care as well. My Gosh, it's like she was always there. This day care is all about the independent thing, too. She has to do EVERYTHING for herself, which is EXCELLENT for the girl. She is a big fan of doing things "All By MYSELF".

Me, I am doing much better as well. I was a nervous wreck about all of this change but when it is all said and done, the change as been good for all of us.

But please, someone explain to me how in the world I have a child that is IN SCHOOL? Seriously, I have never felt more like a grown up than I did putting my baby on a bus with his backpack and his lunch box, bravely going where he has never gone bef

Kindergarten

2007-08-31T20:45:00.000-07:00

Both my babies started new schools on Thursday....D*an to kindy, Car* oline to a new daycare. They both did great...Mommy, not so much...Thursday was a really hard day to have to come in for a meeting at work. I had planned on staying home all day, but instead, took a half day. It was so hard to put him on a school bus. I felt like I was feeding my baby to the wolves. I dropped Car*oline off and felt like I had ripped her from her safe environment.

The funny thing is, the kids never missed a beat. They are really happy with their new situations. I am so proud of both my babies.

I am a cool mom.

2007-08-28T08:10:00.000-07:00

I actually let him go to school like this last week.

This would be a beautiful picture if she did not have cheetos all over her face

2007-08-28T08:08:00.000-07:00

And this is why I spend half my life in traffic to live in CT

2007-08-28T08:07:00.000-07:00

They'll take Manhattan

2007-08-28T06:34:00.000-07:00

In a complete loss of sanity, I decided at 10:00 yesterday morning to take the kids and my MIL to NYC by myself. I'm sorry, I just had to tell you that because I wnat you to be impressed with me because it takes a very brave soul to venture into Manhattan with the likes of these two hooligans and their little demented grandmother. Here is the evidence that I have, if fact, lost my mind.

Really Disgusting

2007-08-25T20:22:00.000-07:00

Gross.

The day started with Mike beign off for some volunterr thing or another at 6:00 am. The Mister woke up promptly at 6:15 am and woudl nto go back to sleep, beside himself that Daddy was was not home. I am convinced I serve no purpose to my oldest child, but, whatever. I am telling a story.
So, around 9:00, I was telling my newly day potty trained child that she needs to go on the potty. She of course, ignores me. So, I forget about the potty and also forgotten that she was butt nekkid from me trying to coax her into the shower with me and showered by myself. I come out to God awful screaming comign from my firtborn. "Mommy, I stepped in it, I stepped in it. Help". My second born had taken a rather large poop in the middle of the carpet and the Mister had not seen it and STEPPED IN IT and then proceeded to hop all over the upsatirs of our house, spreading it everywhere. EVERWHERE. I was not a happy camper. I threw both of them in the tub, busted out with Resolve and scrubbed until I coudl no longer smell excrement.

After I get all of us cleaned up and dressed, I went outside to clean out the van. Last weekend we had gone to Dunkin Donuts and for a week, Mike did not take the litter bag out of the van (I take the Honda to work). Anyway, it smelled ripe in there, so I started to clean. I picked up the DD bag and horror of horrors, MAGGOTS. I almost vomited. I carpet cleaned the hell out of it with a steel brush and they still were freaking there. So I sprayed a can of Lysol on them. The whole can. My skin is still crawling. I have never been so disgusted in my entire life.

Then I left and went to the store this evening when Mike came home. When I got back, he was yelling about bugs or something. So I went to see what the commotion was about. My cheap ass husband and his obession with gardening has now yielded us a case of termites. How, you ask? Oh, because he gets his mulch from the freakign DUMP. Like yards and yards of it. Multiple times a summer. And apparently, this last bunch brought the fine winged ant looking things. Which means, we have to hore an exterminator. And set the traps. Which will cost well over 1500.00. His cheap untreated DUMP mulch will nto cost us more than what 3 summers worth of mulch would have.

Then he got the brilliant idea to go by the pet store tonight with the kids. Let me make no bones about it, the only anyimals I somewhat enjoy are dogs and that is only when other people have to clean up their shit. Most of the rest of them Effing Terrify me. Every single animal Mike and The Mister discussed getting was met with "I'm sorry, if that thing got lost in my house, we would have to move". That pretty much covered every vermin, every bird and every reptile in the giant pet store. So, to add to my heebie jeebies about the freaking MAGGOTS ( yes, we are disgusting PIG PEOPLE WITH MAGGOTS), now I have visions of snakes and rodents climbing all over me. I may never sleep again.

statcounter

2007-08-24T12:37:00.000-07:00

I hardly ever check who is reading this. Mostly because, well, it makes me paranoid and when I am paranoid I get rid of stuff that I might want to see again someday.
Today, I went into stat counter and did a key word search.
and here is what I found:
1 20.00% word to when irish eyes are smiling
1 20.00% pearl, nice clothes, scarlet letter
1 20.00% irish eyes are smiling
1 20.00% pictures of people with problems
1 20.00% lorax kill trees town

YUP. You found me.

Doctor 90210

2007-08-21T19:51:00.000-07:00

I have one thing and one thing alone to say about that show.
Those. People. Cannot. Be. For. Real.

Oh wait, they aren't. They are all orange and plastic.

Things that make me happy

2007-08-21T12:32:00.001-07:00

That my son funny got his bunk bed.
He is in heaven.

That my husband bought me sunflowers yesterday.

The Lorax

2007-08-17T13:52:00.000-07:00

CT has "green" license plates that can be purchased. From our state website, they say this about them :"Thank you for showing interest in the Greenways Plate.
If you enjoy hiking, biking, or horseback riding on trails around the state; or you enjoy knowing that there will always be corridors of open space for wildlife and resource protection, the Connecticut Greenways plate is for you. Sales of the plate will help support local greenway projects around the state through grants administered by the Department of Environmental Protection."

Now don't get me wrong, I am not a crazy conservationist or anything. I am terrible at recycling, I use pesticides on my lawn. I hardly ever buy organic. But I do love the great outdoors. I love to hike on our town designated trails, play on our town beaches and don't litter. I chose to buy a house that was already standing because I think destroying more forests in this part of the country to put up more 6,000 square foot McMansions that people live in and move out of in 2 years is silly. I drive a Honda to work and am seriously considering purchasing a Hybrid for my next vehicle for purely selfish reasons-I am too cheap to purchase a gas guzzler. But that is the extent of my Green behavior.

However, I do love the book "The Lorax". The trees, the trees the Truffala Trees. I have read it about 7,000 times in the past 5 years. The message it sends is beautiful. Doctor Suess was 40 years of himself, for sure.

I was behind a Toyota Prius today with Greenways plates on it. While there was nothing noteworthy about that, what was noteworthy to me was what the letters on the vanity plates spelled- "UNLESS". I was giddy with joy when I realized what they were referencing. For all of you non-Suess readers, there is a line in "The Lorax" that said:

"And all that the Lorax left here in this mess was a small pile of rocks with one word. "Unless". Unless someone like you, cares a whole awful lot, nothing's going to get better. It's not. CATCH. It's the very last one of the truffula Seeds.You're in charge of the last of the truffula seeds. And truffula trees are what everyone needs! Plant a new truffula. Treat it with care. Give it clean water, and feed it fresh air. Grow a forest. Protect it from axes that hack. Then the Lorax, and all of his friends may... come back."

Pretty cool, huh?

What's your favorite Suess story? Or do you hate Theodore Geisl?

100 things about me and other useless facts that you may not know:

2007-08-16T10:49:00.000-07:00

1) I have broken 3 digital cameras in the past 4 years.
2) I would love an SLR, but, well, see above.
3) I cannot live without my camera. I take pictures every single day with my digital.
4) I am not great technique wise, but I have a good eye for what makes a great picture.
5) My sewing machine has become a paper weight in my dining room.
6) I simply do not have time for additional hobbies.
7) I like having parties. I have lots of them.
8) My favorite CD’s (almost called them albums) of all time are Counting Crows-August and Everything After, Billy Joel-The Bridge, Sting-Mercury Falling, Jim Croce-Photographs and Memories, The Singles Soundtrack, U2-The Joshua tree, The Dixie Chicks –Wide Open Spaces, Johnny Cash, Bruce Springsteen-Born to Run, Joni Mitchell-Blue, CSN & Y(though I hate Neil Young)-Déjà vu, Peter Gabriel-So, REM-Radio Free Europe, Green Day-Dookie, Pearl Jam-Ten, Tracy Chapman-Tracy Chapman, The Beatles- Sgt. Peppers.
9) I am the only in the world who dislikes Elton John. Except “Your Song.” I like “Your Song.”
10) My favorite book ever was “The Great Gatsby”.
11) My second favorite was “The Scarlet Letter”.
12) My Third Favorite was “To Kill a Mocking Bird”.
13) By looking at those three choices, you could surmise that I am (was) a drunken, promiscuous law breaker.
14) I won’t give you an answer if that is or was ever true.
15) I am not a big fan of John Grisham. Though “A Time to Kill” was one of my favorite books ever. I think he should have stopped with his first book, because it was perfection.
16) I was worried when they made “A Time to Kill” a film.
17) Until the film introduced us to Matthew McConaughy’s sweet a$$.
18) I don’t get the furor over Harry Potter.
19) I think even if I bothered to read it, I’d probably group it in the Dirty Dancing/Wizard of Oz category.
20) I know ever word to every Beastie Boys song on Licensed to Ill
21) I’d have put the Licensed to Ill on my greatest list, but I wouldn’t want you to think I was that type of girl.
22) Apparently I am that type of girl.
23) I love John Cusack with all of my soul.
24) John Cusack symbolizes every that was my teenage years.
25) My favorite line from a John Cusack movie was “I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen”.
26) 10 bucks to the first right answer to that movie quote.
27) John Cusack has broken my heart a few times over the years. First, by starring in CONAIR, second, by dating Julia (“BAY, I am so full of angst in my million dollar SF row house”) Salinger and by posting on The Huffington Post. I still love him, though. I would love him more if he would have a sequel to Say Anything.
28) Speaking of Say Anything, that was the answer to 25. And can anyone figure out the link between Say Anything and 20 and 21?
29) I bet you can’t.
30) So I will tell you. Adam Horowitz was married to Ione Skye.
31) You have no idea who those people are, do you? Adam Horowitz is AKA as AD-Rock from the Beastie Boys. Ione Skye was none other than Diane Court, the object of Lloyd Dobbler’s affection.
32) I don’t like Angelina Jolie.
33) What do 31 and 32 have in common?
34) Jenny Shimizu
35) How do you not know who she is?
36) Angelina and Jenny were a thing.
37) After Jenny and Ione were a thing. Ione left King Ad-Rock for Jenny.
38) You people really need to brush up on your celebrity gossip.
39) I love the Boston Red sox with all of my soul.
40) I nearly named my daughter David Ortiz after Big Papi performed for us in 2004.
41) I did name her Car*oline.
42) True Red Sox fans will ask me if I named her “Because of the team?”.
43) While it was not the true reason, sometimes I will say that it came to me during the eighth inning of Game five.
44) And they will laugh. And none of you know why I say this.
45) They play “Sweet C*aroline” in the middle of the eighth inning of every home game.
46) I love “Fever Pitch.”
47) Ione Skye was in Fever Pitch. 7 more degrees of separation.
48) I love Ken Burn’s Baseball.
49) I have been to Cooperstown 4 times.
50) It’s painful to go to Cooperstown for a Red Sox fan.
51) It would be poetic justice to me if Roger Clemens was forced to go into the Hall of Fame wearing a Sox Cap.
52) He is too much of a cry baby to let that happen and instead, will represent the House that George (Steinbrenner or Ruth, take your pick) built (or bought).
53) Which pisses me off. He spent 13 years with the SOX.
54) I met Roger Clemens in a Houston Bar one time. He was a total Tool.
55) I think I love the History of Baseball more than the actual game.
56) It’s rich in Americana.
57) Baseball and non baseball fans would enjoy it the hall of fame
58) I got Carlton Fisk’s autograph on a plane back from San Francisco.
59) I am taking C*aroline to the Radio City Christmas Show this year the day before her birthday.
60) I am starting a tradition with her to go every year for her birthday since she really picked the suckiest month of the year to be born.
61) She shares a birthday with Britney Spears. Poor me.
62) I share a birthday with Katharine Hepburn, Yogi Berra and Tootie from the Fact of Life.
63) Dan*iel shares a birthday with Jack Ruby, Elton John and Lisa from Saved by the Bell.
64) Mich*ael shares a birthday with Emmanuel Lewis. The only famous person who has his birthday is Webster Papalopodus.
65) Dan*iel watched Walk the Line with me the other morning. Call DCF.
66) He knew every song. This kid has an eclectic taste in music.
67) Dan*iel is not a big fan of kid movies.
68) His recent favorite movie is “The Guardian”
69) He pretends he is Kevin Costner (who has no facial profile, I swear…look at him from the side…NO PROFILE) saving people in our pool.
70) My lips have been chapped a month. I usually swear by Carmex, but it’s not working this time.
71) I have finally learned how to make a good marinara sauce.
72) Dan*iel and Car*oline start new schools on the same day.
73) I am sick over all this change. In fact, I have hives.
74) I don’t do change well.
75) I have on a shirt that cost 8.75 at Old Navy. 3 people asked me if it was Ann Taylor. At least they did not ask if I was expecting. Because I hate when that happens.
76) I have become too fat for Ann Taylor Loft to comfortably fit me.
77) Ann Taylor Loft must miss my business.
78) But Old Navy, with their gargantuan sizes and poorly made clothing must love me.
79) I watched a documentary called “The Bridge” last night.
80) For a year cameras were directed 24 hours a day, 7 days a week on the Golden Gate Bridge.
81) In that year, 24 people jumped to their deaths and 1 survived.
82) This was their stories along with footage of people jumping.
83) It sounds totally macabre, but it was fascinating to me.
84) I felt for those people. Most people think that doing this is selfish. I don’t see it that way at all. But then again, I have been clinically depressed before.
85) Bus Run day at school went well.
86) I apparently missed the Memo that said all mothers in my town must drive BMW SUV’s, wear 3 carats in each year and dress their kids in Lilly Pulitzer while not cutting their sons hair so that they all have that carefree Ralph Lauren Polo Ad look. The mothers were all anorexically thin and dressed the same. It is Stepford.
87) My husband showed up with a shirt on that he apparently found in the Goodwill Bag.
88) He really does have nice clothing. He just refuses to wear it when he can potentially where something that will make him look totally out of place.
89) I had Thai food for lunch. I bought it from a roadside vendor
90) It is not agreeing with me.
91) That is what you get for buying food from the side of the road.
92) What is it you get? Salmonella, probably. Maybe ecoli. Possibly Botulism. Definitely Listeria.
93) I think Augusten Burroughs is the most talented writer of this century.
94) Though I think he takes lots of liberty with the truth in his autobiographical writings.
95) However, it just adds to the quality of his work.
96) Read Possible Side Effects, Dry, Magical Thinking and Running with Scissors. Read the last one first.
97) I have not read Sellevision. I must get a copy.
98) I think Augusten Burroughs is the G*ay Male Version of myself.
99) And that is why I love him so.
100) I could easily come up with a hundred more. I am quite full of myself, I suppose. Maybe next time.

Friends

2007-08-10T08:08:00.000-07:00

Checking. Bizarre or NOT Bizarre

2007-08-06T06:37:00.000-07:00

Is it bizarre to let your kids walk up to a total stranger kid who has cotton candy that they are sharing with their group of friends and grab a few hand fulls? Yes, this did happen. And the Mister, in perfect Mister fashion said "Move along, friends, that's my sister's cotton candy". The mother stood there and watched the whole thing go down and didn't even apologize. I mean, I could see my kids doing that as well, but I would profusely apologize for it, not stand there and watch them go for seconds.

If you bring your 2 year old and your 5 year old to see a movie at matinee time like, oh, I don't know, THE COOKING RATS MOVIE and your 2 year old starts to cry ONE TIME(not even Loudly) because she dropped something (OKAY her binky, yes, she still has that monkey on her back despite my supposed victory over it a month ago-24 hours that lasted), is it normal to expect that the person next to you, by herself at the children's matinee movie would be tolerant of a little whining? Or should you expect that the adult turns to the child and says "SHHH, you are interrupting the movie?" Yeah, that happened. Only this time, Mommy brought the smack down instead of the Mister. I turned around and said "She's TWO. Perhaps you should have gone to the 10:00 showing where you won't run the risk of having to share the movie with small children." I did resist the urge to say "Oh, that's right. Of course, there is no 10:00 showing because normal adults without children don't subject themselves to Disney movies in the form of Vermin preparing meals unless they have lost their minds." But, I decided that would have been too much.

When you are 97, you get a party every year...

2007-08-04T20:15:00.000-07:00

The first picture is from this year. The second is from last year. Let's hope we'll get to do this every year, with all of the same people. It's been a rough year for my grandfather and my aunt. I am thrilled that we are all still here to enjoy this day.

and now I will make you sit through my vacation slideshow...

2007-08-01T21:33:00.000-07:00

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

I THINK IT IS FIXED NOW!!!!

Back home

2007-07-29T19:44:00.000-07:00

The McFamily vacation of 2007 is over. A good time was had by all. George Hamilton (my son) got his tan on, his seafood on and his groove on flirting with women of all ages, the McDaddy read two books, laid on the couch, drank like a fish and generally spent the week relaxing and the Girl, well she cried and clinged to me like she had not seen me in a year. Me, I cooked and cleaned and did laundry and basically never had a free moment to myself, lest you count the trip to Stop and Shop I made on the first day of vacation. I need a vacation.

The house was nice. Or should I say, should have been nice, had it not been owned by a man with a mullet and cut off jean shorts who felt it was his duty to make sure he hung around all week to assure we are all "having a great day at the beach". How a man who weighed 110 lbs soaking wet, chain smoked and basically spent his entire week toking up on the communal deck that was not advertised as part of the property amassed 3 direct water front cottages worth well over a million dollars is beyond me. The house was filthy. Like I would not walk without shoes on filthy. If you knew how much we paid for it, you would be astonished. Then there was the communal deck. Right outside our cottage, so basically, we lived in a fish bowl for a week. The guy who rented the cottage in front of us was a really nice guy, but man he had a whole lot of friends and each one of them was weirder than the rest. They were all hard partiers. Liek really hard partiers. Like there was a 60 year old dude that I kindly had to ask to not spark up his pot pipe in front of my kids. I believe I said "Dude, they'll have 4 years of college to discover weed. I think 5 is a little young for an intro". The people in the other cottage paid their 700 dollar deposit, showed up, took one look at the gross cottage they rented along with the shared grill and deck and said "Eff this, keep our 700, we're out of here". So, instead of the nice couple from Saratoga, we got to spend the week with Mullet Man. If I heard him say " It's a great day at the beach" one for time, I was going to smack the Steve Buscemi look off his face.

Like I said the guy in the front cottage was nice. But he was like a circus master and his motley group of friends were a sideshow. Which provided hours of entertainment for The Mister, By the end of the week, the guy in the front cottage was purchasing groceries for the Mister and the Mister was just walking into his cottage like he owned the place.

On Wednesday, Mike's nieces and mom came to the cottage and stayed for a few days. For the preceding 4 days, I had literally gagged every time my kids set foot on the vile shag area rug in the middle of the living room. I kept vacuuming it and begging my kids to please step off the Petri Dish, but my skeeve factor was sky high. Not nearly as high as it was when the rug around the toilet was still there (I removed it on day two when the smell of pee was more than I could handle any longer). Mike's niece took one look at her one year old, one look at the shag rug and preceded to roll it up and put it in the closet. I love Mike's niece. She has the same OCD issues that I do.

I have to say, regardless of the house and the partying and the non stop work, we had a good time. I am brown as a berry as is my son. The Mister caught some serious waves and swam further out than I ever could have imagined possible. The Mister caught a star fish, buried the remains of a crab complete with a headstone and a full on funeral ceremony and then, in an act that makes no sense considering the previous statement, took part in the killing of a 9lb lobster. The Girl, well, she cried, alot. I really need to cut the cord from her.

I have spent the past 2 days in a coma, catching up on no sleep because the house was an inferno to sleep in and I was thinking about the bed bugs. But man, I have a killer tan.

On vacation

2007-07-20T21:04:00.000-07:00

This is my Out of Office message....

Have a great week, y'all...

Now THIS is more like it...

Sat
Jul 21 Partly Cloudy
78°/61° 20%
78°F

Sun
Jul 22 Mostly Cloudy
78°/62° 10%
78°F

Mon
Jul 23 Scattered Showers
77°/64° 30%
77°F

Tue
Jul 24 Isolated T-Storms
80°/66° 30%
80°F

Wed
Jul 25 Partly Cloudy
83°/68° 20%
83°F

Thu
Jul 26 Sunny
87°/69° 20%
87°F

Fri
Jul 27 Sunny
88°/68° 10%
88°F

Sat
Jul 28 Partly Cloudy
83°/69° 10%
83°F

I will commence crying right now

2007-07-18T06:25:00.000-07:00

This is the weather forecast for next week for the smallest of Islands.
As you may recall, it rained every day of my vacation last year.
I cannot win.

Sat
Jul 21 Few Showers
77°/63° 30%
77°F

Sun
Jul 22 Isolated T-Storms
78°/64° 30%
78°F

Mon
Jul 23 T-Showers
80°/66° 40%
80°F

Tue
Jul 24 Scattered T-Storms
81°/68° 40%
81°F

Wed
Jul 25 Showers
83°/66° 30%
83°F

Thu
Jul 26 Scattered Showers
83°/66° 30%
83°F

Fri
Jul 27 Scattered T-Storms
82°/68° 30%
82°F

Insomnia

2007-07-17T21:06:00.000-07:00

I hate when I go through these periods of insomnia. It happens every few months and usually when something is bugging me. Fortunately, nothing is bugging me right now. I just cannot sleep.

I refuse to take Ambien. Don't need to be making a rump roast at 3:00 am and devour the whole thing while driving to work sound asleep, arriving there and sending wildly inappropriate e-mails and then driving home, waking up and not remembering an effing thing. No thank you. You can keep your freaking Ambien and it's sister Lunesta, too. As a matter of fact, keep the Viagra and celestia or whatever the eff it is called. The last thing anyone in this house needs is the McDaddy with a 4 hour b oner.

I usually rely on Tylenol PM for times like this. But it is 12:00 am. And I have an 8:30 meeting, which means that I need to be up and out the door by 7:15. Fat chance if I take the little blue crack pill. It's the equivalent of NyQuil to me. By the way, I love that Denis Leary Skit on NyQuil. It says on the back of the NyQuil box, on the back of the box it says, "May cause drowsiness." It should say, "Don't make any fucking plans! Kiss your family and friends goodbye."

The reason I find this so hysterically funny is because there was a point in my life that I was becoming addicted to NyQuil. My husband was absolutely floored when he found out that I was going through a bottle a week of it and I never even had a cold. It started innocently enough. I had a cold, took some NyQuil and woke up a week later. From that point on, I was hooked. I was slightly embarrassed when he found out about my dirty little secret. I felt like Tom Hanks when he played Elise Keaton's brother and drank the vanilla out of the pantry. That marked the end of the NyQuil addiction and the beginning of my love affair with Tylenol PM. I have had a good run of not being entirely dependent on the PM. I think it has been at least 6 months to a year since I took it regularly. Every once and a while, I have to detox myself or the PM begins to lose it's effect.

The truth is, my love of pharmaceuticals (and that includes whenever I can get my hands on the good stuff as well) is purely born out of my inability to sleep like a normal person. I have struggled with sleep issues for my entire life. I quit soda 3 months ago and as a result, my sleep for the past 3 months has been less fitful. I have one cup of Earl Grey tea in the morning and that is the extent of the caffeine I knowingly partake in. The fact is, I am just a crappy sleeper. Is it any wonder that one of my children is nocturnal? My husband can fall asleep on a concrete fall. I swear to God he could commit a heinous crime and fall asleep without a single worry on his brain. Me..I am up at 3:00 am thinking about a report I messed up on or some of the lousy decisions I made 15 years ago. You know, like I can do ANYTHING about these issues at 3:00 am.

I am going to try and go to sleep. Lord knows I need it.

July 4th pics

2007-07-17T09:22:00.000-07:00

Serious PSA

2007-07-13T20:32:00.000-07:00

It's summer and everyone is busy. There are lots of parties, lots of rushing around, lots of not thinking with your head on straight.

I just wanted to take a minute to remind everyone of some important kid safety measures.

We put so much effort into making sure our kids are properly belted in the car, we don't let them play alone outside, we lock the doors and windows at night to keep intruders out. We make sure that we cut their food into small pieces when they are tiny, we take them to the doctors when they are sick and when they are healthy. We put four million floaties on our kids arms when they are at the pool or beach. We do so many things to keep them safe. But all it takes is a split second and life can turn tragic.

In my state this week, a 2 year old drowned in a neighbors pool at a party where there were 18 people in attendance. 2 years old,like my Car oline. I am sure that her parents were watching her carefully and lost sight of her for just one minute. Last year there was a similar incident that happened here as well, which was a wake up for me to take extra precautions for any party I now host during the summer. I hire someone to watch the pool. Not even a lifeguard, just a neighborhood teenager to sit on the edge of the pool and do headcounts. When you are hosting a party, it is really hard to keep track of your kids while getting food out and cleaning up, etc. And let's face it, even if your eyes are always on YOUR kids, the fact is, you really are only watching out for your own children, not other people's kids. So that is my advice. Hire a pool watcher. For 10.00 an hour, it can save your kids or someone elses kids life. And for heaven's sake, get proper fencing for your pool and make sure it is locked at all times. In addition, in the winter, don't use one fo those old style covers with the tire in the middle. There is nothing more attractive to a toddler than a tire mountain to climb. Spend the 1500.00 and GET AN ELEPHANT COVER. They may get wet if they walk across it, but your kid won't drown.
While you are at it, start your kid on swimming lessons young. Like 2 years old. Sure they won't learn how to swim at that age, but they will start to learn about pool safety. When we moved in the house, I spent hours literally drilling into Da niel's head "No pool without Mommy and Daddy". Of course, you can drill your kid all you want, but the fact is, there is no surefire way make sure they don't go in the pool without an adult, so please, do all of the above. I'm not hardcore abotu alot of things, but the pool is one area where I am and I am often shocked to see how cavelier people are about pool safety.

I saw a news story today where a grandfather backed over and killed his two year old granddaughter accidentally. This happens more often than you think, so please take extra caution when backing out of your driveway. Think about it, you yell to your spouse "I'm running to the store for milk" and jump in your car, not realizing your small child has heard that you are going Bye Bye and they rush out after you. In your rush to get to the store, get what you need before running to this place or that place, you don't take the extra few seconds to 1) Back out very slowly 2) look carefully behind the car 3) Look in the rear view mirror. Next thing you know, life as you know it is never the same. So do yourself a favor, take a little extra time to make sure the coast is clear.

The third thing I think is worth noting is to watch for falls. When Da niel was about 2, He fell from the top of the basement stairs all the way down because we only had a top rail that he easily slipped under. Only by the grace of God did I see him out of the corner of my eye and was able to swoop him up with like a second to spare before he hit the concrete. I had been bugging the McDaddy to close up that stair case or at least put two additional smaller rails that he could nto fit through for months. The McDaddy witnessed this whole thing and within minutes, his Makita was out, drilling in screws for new rails. Then there is the playground. My kids are total daredevils and frequently climb too high for my liking. Kids are born explorers and whiles I would hate to hover over them at all times and squelch their curiosity, I also have come to realize that I need to keep my eyes open and not chit chat or daydream while they are climbing the play scape. Last year a 14 month old died at a park in our state from a short fall off of one of those bridge thingies on a play scape. All it took was seconds for this to happen. The moral of the story is....Make sure you keep your eyes on them at all times when they are climbing. Head injuries happen far more than you could ever imagine.

Sorry...less serious topics next time. I figured that since I am reminding myself of all of this, maybe it would be a good idea to remind other people.

Have a safe and happy weekend.

There. I said it.

2007-07-11T09:39:00.000-07:00

I hate the Wizard of Oz.

It's creepy.

I hate Dirty Dancing.

Patrick Swayze is creepy.

I hate Titanic.

Kate Winslet doing an American accent is creepy.

I am not a big fan of Disney movies.

I find it creepy that they always kill off the mom.

I don't like Kramer from Seinfeld. And this was pre- last year's rant.

I find his humor creepy.

I really felt that Friends could entire do without the character of Phoebe Buffay.

I found Phoebe to be really creepy sometimes. Especially in the scene where she contemplates asking her brother to give her one of their surrogate triplets.

2007-06-28T12:47:00.000-07:00

I promise you that I will add another installment of my IL's story soon...work is very busy. In the interim...enjoy my babies....

Mama Mia

2007-06-20T09:16:00.000-07:00

Let's see. I left off in 1945. September 29, 1945. The day the McFamily was created. At the time, my FIL was working I believe in a Gun factory and my MIL was working for the railroad as a contometer operator for the railroad (or "the Road" as she and old time railroad people (like my beloved grandfather) call it). Now I bet you are wondering what a contometer is, huh? Well, so did I. So I looked it up. It was some sort of key punch machine with nine keys. My MIL waxes nostalgic about her days as a "career girl", operating that contometer for ""good money". As a matter of fact, when they got married, my MIL made more sitting in an office than my FIL did sweating away at Marlin Fire Arms. That was unheard of back in the post war world. They were doing pretty well money wise at this point. They had a beautiful apartment in what is now a really lousy neighborhood in Fair Haven and they FULLY furnished it with CASH.

My FIL was not a domineering or mean or bossy type of guy, which is amazing, considering that he had a terrible childhood, one of poverty and neglect and abuse. His father, the original Dan McFamily was a "drunkard" and his mother was cold and unloving. When he was 5 years old, his parents divorced. Danny was given the unbearable choice by a JUDGE of who he wanted to live with. he chose to move in with his paternal grandmother because in his little mind, he thought that if he lived with his mom, he would never see his dad again and if he lived with his grandmother, at least his mom and dad would visit him. He was wrong about one thing. His mom hardly ever visited him. She was too mad that he chose to live away from her. During the summers, my FIL worked the family farm in North Haven, CT. His uncles lived at the farm and were awful to him. They abused him because they viewed him not as a little boy, but as an extra mouth to feed. He spent the school years in the city with his grandmother in abject poverty, but the summers on the farm, tolerating abuse. The man never had an easy season. Up until he met my MIL, he had never had a birthday cake. It's funny, but we joke that every time someone in this family poops we have a party, but the truth is, the roots of this party crazy family were probably rooted in the sadness that Danny had as a child, growing up without a celebration of him. Only without alcohol. My FIL disliked alcohol with a passion. Considering the fact that his father died from a head injury suffered at the hands of police who arrested him for singing too loud, it is easy to understand why he viewed drinking as a terrible thing. Mike always does remember his dad having one drink at a wedding or fancy occasional. A high ball. But even Mike thinks that Danny just ordered a drink to be polite, not because he liked alcohol.

After my MIL got pregnant with my SIL, she quit working. Of course, as society dictated back then, she should have quit working when she got married, but she was a rule breaker and kept working 2 years into her marriage. My FIL never had an issue with my MIL working or making more than him. He was just that type of guy, a gentle man with a quiet nature who took everything in. After my SIL was born and then my BIL and then another BIL was born, my FIL was still working for some fire arm factory, though I am not sure if it was still Marlin. He also did carpentry work on the side, climbing up and down ladders with his already comprised knees taking a further beating. Somehow they managed to save enough money to build a small ranch house in a sleeper suburb of New Haven. At this point, there finances were still okay.

But then, there was an accident. My FIL was involved in some sort of accident that further disabled him. He didn't work for a year. My MIL, still very much an Italian daughter, under her father's direction, went to see her BIL, the attorney. Who took there case, but then took their settlement as well. He was a conniving MOFO who stole from them repeatedly and often throughout his angry, sorted life. As my MIL's sister stood back and watched. Granted, my IL's were stupid and naive with money. And they always listened to my MIL's Papa. Because in Italian family's, the Patriarch is always revered, even by the redheaded Irish SIL. Thus began a lifetime of poverty for the McFamily. And to think, this was before the 4th kid, Michael (or "My Michael" as Lucy refers to him) was even though about.

By the time my husband was born, his closest sibling was 10 years older than him and his parents were 40. Elderly by yesteryears standards. My FIL at this point had begun to work for the town as a maintenance guy in the school system. My MIL's Papa had died after CATARACT surgery of DEHYDRATION. Unbelievable. My FIL was with Papa when he passed away. My MIL had what can only be described as a complete and total nervous breakdown. Papa died in April. In December, she would not allow a Christmas Tree to be put up. She walked around for a year in black and 45 years later, she still cries when she talks about him (throwing in a "What a world. He died so young (he was 70)). How my FIL did not leave or commit this woman is beyond me.

Somehow in the depression and mourning, my MIL got pregnant with patron saint Michael. She had a miscarriage years before (which I have been told in GRAPHIC detail was a boy because "She saw "it" in the toilet) and thought she was infertile. You know, after 4 pregnancies and 3 live births. So, she milked this 9and ever pregnancy from what I understand for everything it was worth). Apparently, Doctor Conte told her that "Her feet were not even to touch the ground" for her WHOLE PREGNANCY because of her terrible morning sickness. My MIL took it quite literally and spent entire days in bed, retaining urine until my FIL could come in and CARRY HER to the loo. Her children waited on her hand and foot, including my SIL who had the disgusting job of throwing away sucked on pickles. That ex0plains why she did not have pee...she was dehydrated from all the salt.

Anyway, "My Michael" was born in March of 64. He was due on March 15th and "Thank God he was born on the 9th because the 15th is the Ides of march and I never wanted a baby born on the Ides of March". 6 months later, Michael got some sort of childhood disease (it alternates between roseala, the mumps, measles and Chicken Pox depending on the time the story is told) and spiked a really high temperature. So high that my MIL called the doctor (which wasn't really an oddity considering she was one to call the doctor for inconsistent bowl movements) and Doctor Conte (because he was a one size fits all doctor) CAME TO THE HOUSE. The doctor told my MIL to put Michael outside,which she did and his temperature went down. After Dr. Conte left, his temp went back up again and she called him back. At this point, the doctor was like "Um, put him outside again you crazy woman". An that is when she saw it. The look in her baby's eyes.

When her father was dehydrated he had a "look in his eyes". When looking at "My Michael", she saw the very same look. Instead of calling the doctor , she rushed him off to the hospital and as soon as they got there "They poured red fluid into his mouth until he peed everywhere.". Yes. They poured fluid into a 6 month old's mouth until he peed. And as you probably have figured out, the fact that my husband is still alive today is compliments of the divine intervention of my MIL's dead father and her quick action of rushing him to the hospital.

More tomorrow.

Take away love and our earth is a tomb

2007-06-18T20:15:00.000-07:00

The title is a quote by Robert Browning. I find it apropos to this post.

I have mentioned before that my MIL is elderly, right? And that she is stubborn and depressing and totally fucking losing her mind? Yeah, I think I have. I probably neglected to mention to you that despite all of the above, I love the crazy old bitch to pieces. I am going to write about her a little bit for the next few days, kind of like a chapter book. There is just so much to talk about and only so much you all feel like reading about in a single blog post, but I think I need to give you background about her before you discount her as just some crazy old lady who should be put in a state run nursing home, which, by the way, we all will end up in someday after the Long Term Care Insurance that we paid through the nose for for 20 years runs out after 3 years of substandard but better than what Medicare will give us care.

She is declining before our very eyes. When my FIL died 4 years ago, part of her died. They truly completed each other. I have no idea how the man put up with 60 years of her very Bizarre Italian Mourning Rituals or her constant state of depression, but he did. I can recall the month before he died watching him smack her in the ass as she walked by and telling her "Love you, babe". Man, did he love every ounce of her crazy. And she felt the same way. They met in May when they were 14 years old. He would see her walking to church every day in May because May was the month of Mary and crazy Italian Catholics went to Mass every single freaking day in May to pay homage to the Virgin Mother and confess the sins they did not possibly have time to commit since they were in church or confession every single day during the Month of May. Anyway, in June, my MIL got let loose to go to the movies after going to Mass EVERY SINGLE DAY IN THE MONTH OF MAY (can you tell I have heard this story before 100 times?) and she went with her friend Florence (who is forever referred to as "My very best friend in the whole wide world because she brought me my Danny and did you know we baptized Florence's son Johnny and now he is a Priest?")to "the show". Danny was in the back row of the theater and he was throwing peanuts at the back of my MIL's head. Florence got up to tell him off and he said "I was just trying to get the pretty girl's attention". And with that statement, the original McFamily was born.

It wasn't smooth sailing for my MIL and FIL to get married. My MIL (Lucia, Lucy to us) was one of 6 children of Maria and Cotello (Mary and Charles)and her dad was right off the boat from the boot. As an aside, it always strikes me as odd when Immigrants change their names to Americanize them. It just makes me feel like a dirty American to hear people stripped of their lineage just to comply with the American ideal of what is right and proper. There are now at least 7 people with Charles as part of their names in the Maternal side of the McFamily and it doesn't even properly honor the man who they are attempting to idolize. Anyway, Charles was none too pleased that this dirt poor, red headed Irish Boy from a broken home was in love with his fair princess. 30 years later, while all of his children were too busy with their own lives to visit their ailing father, Danny was the one who held Charles hand as he passed away. The irony.

My In-laws were married in 1945 after my FIL got out of the service. My FIL was was a paratrooper. He was doing a practice jump from a plane and landed incorrectly, shattering both of his kneecaps and making him "unfit for duty" (the knee problems will play a bigger role later on in this story). Danny went home and his entire squadron went to Normandy. They were a part of the 1st wave to hit the shores of Omaha beach and none of them came home. I often think that God had better plans for my FIL than seeing him buried on French Soil under a white cross. My FIL was always ashamed that he wasn't there to fight. I never understood his logic. I mean, I would think of it as stroke of luck, but he saw it as a dereliction of duty.

So, he came back and got married. And this is where my story ends today.

And just like that....

2007-06-15T10:06:00.000-07:00

Our baby grew up. I will never again have to say "Ca*roline, get that binky out of your mouth so I can take a picture." This morning, she took one last suck on her "Binka", threw it on the ground and said "I all done with Binkas, Mommy. Binkas are for Babies and I a big girl."

So, goodbye binka. You have brought me great solace over the past five years. From my colicky newborn son to my constantly screaming toddler daughter, you have NEVER let me down. I owe you an incredible debt of gratitude *in addition to a rather orthodonture bill (little Lauren Hutton we call her) which I am planning to blame entirely YOU and not genetics*.

Now, on to diapers. The girl told me today that she wants pretty princess underwear, so if the girl wants pretty princess underwear, the girl gets pretty princess underwear.....after going to Stop and Shop at 11:00 last night to get diapers, I will be grateful for the respite.

Strawberries and sundry

2007-06-14T08:51:00.000-07:00

Graduation

2007-06-14T08:48:00.001-07:00

We never thought he would make it. We are so proud.

Ill fated attempt to get pics for my MIL's Flag Day Birthday

2007-06-14T08:42:00.000-07:00

The other kid is my great nephew, Baby B*n. Doesn't he look like The Mister?

Shower the People you Love with .......

2007-06-11T09:28:00.000-07:00

Saturday was Dina’s Baby Shower. The morning started off perfectly wonderful. Two sick kids (one expelling from one end, the other from the other end). I considered not going, but then I said “Eff it, he is leaving me all day long tomorrow while he goes to the Yankee game and well, I have spent more time with vomit on me in my time as a parent, so maybe this will be a good learning experience for him.”. The truth is I was desperately craving adult company, adult food and adult beverages, so my guilt of leaving sick children was far surpassed by my need to get the Eff out of my house.

So, I got there a half an hour late, amazing considering that I was knee deep in toddler diarrhea for most of the morning. By the time I had left my house, the puking had stopped, so my guilt was pretty much gone. Dina is Italian. Very Italian. Her family goes ALL OUT for functions. They had a tent outside that easily could have fit 200 people. The shower had WAIT STAFF. And all the women looked and acted like Carmella Soprano. I was standing in line for food (the wait staff was pretty much there for show, I am convinced) and I listened to this conversation:

“O Marron (Oh Madonna, Mary Mother of God), Dis Eggplant Roll A Tine (Roulatini) is too Die for. Where’d ja get it?”

“I got it from Gags. You know Gags. (Turning to me as I think to myself, why on earth would anyone order food from a place called GAGS?) Gagliardis. They make da best Shcrole (Escarole and Beans) and Pasta Fajhool (Pasta Fagioli).”

“Did you try the Fresh Mooz (Mozzeralla)? And look. They have da Cavadell (Cavatelli) with da Broccoli. So much food. Her mudder must have been cooking all night”

I could go on and on. Since I left the place of my youth, I absolutely love to attend functions with my people. My Wat*erbury people. I kind of feel like I am an outsider looking in, but it is so fun to be from such a colorful place. The truth is, I am from a place where plastic on the furniture is common place, Mary on the Half Shell is proudly displayed on every front yard and people fry up squash flowers as a delicacy. Granted I do not live there anymore, but I still love coming back there. And to be with my friends is better therapy than any 200.00 I could pluck down to a psychoanalyst. Because a psychoanalyst would never utter the phrase “I don’t know why any of us even bothered to do our hair today. It all looks like shit. We have the same hair. Over processed and fried”.

Then there was the gift opening. All of us made it a point to avoid eye contact with the Grandmother to be as to avoid playing a role in what must be the tackiest and most Water*bury custom that exists in the world. Now all gather your collective breaths. At baby/bridal showers, the guest of honor DOES NOT OPEN HER OWN GIFTS. Yes, you heard me right. 4 or 5 of her best girlfriends tear into these beautifully wrapped gifts like animals tearing into freshly killed meat. It becomes this assembly line process where the guest of honor is simply handed an opened gift with a card as the girls behind her dig into more gifts and the girl next to her writes down who bought what. My mother, thankfully, always had enough sense to never allow her girls showers to take on this form, but it’s safe to say, my mother also never invited 90 people to a baby shower, either. Anyway, we all managed to avoid eye contact with the future grandmother accept Socks Over jeans Girl. Which was AWESOME because we all spent the entire gift opening making fun of how miserable SOJG was. At one point we all looked at each other and were like “Seriously, is she even writing down what Dina got? Or has she completely zoned out?”. We even took pictures of how miserable SOJG was during this fiasco. It was so fun.

After all the gifts were opened and the cake was eaten and the gossip was done, we all left the shower and proceeded to go to a bar down the street, where the best gossip was to be had about the party guests. Me, my friend Meg*an, SOJG and SOJG sister bellied up to the bar and were having a fabulous time until of course, The Crazy had to find us. Because THE CRAZY always finds ME.

This woman sitting at the end of the bar on about her 5th martini in an hour decided she was bored and wanted to become a part of our conversation, which was all well and good, but she did not obviously ever learn how to read body language. At first it was “Are you all sisters?” To which we replied “No, just all use the same color foils”. Then she was cutting into every single part of our conversation. Now people like this make me alternate between being annoyed with them and feeling sorry for them. Annoyed because, HELLO, how often do I get to hang out at a BAR with my best girlfriends sucking down Pinot and gossiping about old boyfriends and Sorry for them because it is sad that they are sitting in a bar all alone trying to be a part of gossiping with people they don’t even know. The more that you talk to them, the more they talk to you and then the more you want to strangle them for effing with your 2 hours of free time. It’s a vicious circle. Anyway, I was trying to be nice but my girlfriends didn’t even bother trying. Ever single time I answered an ill timed question, my girlfriends shot me daggers.
But the truth is, I find it hard to be rude to people, even when they are being rude to me.
This went on for like an hour.

I felt really bad for excluding The Crazy from the conversation, especially when she said this to us as she was leaving “You girls are so lucky to have each other.”. Then even the coldest of my girlfriends felt bad. She is right, we are lucky. Everyone should have girlfriends that they can spend time with hiding from their children in a sleazy bar on a Saturday afternoon in June.

Disorganized Chaos

2007-06-08T09:13:00.001-07:00

Last week I played out what was such quintessential Mister's Mommy move that even I cannot escape noticing the obsurdity which is SuzMcDMcD .

I have a confession to make. I am the most disorganized person on the face of the earth. While everything on the surface appears to be in order, if you just dig a little bit, you'll find out that I am a train wreck. My mind is a very scary place filled with 400 to do lists and not a damn thing accomplished because I can't find a pen to cross out the things that i have actually accomplished on my to do list so I keep doing them over and over again. Oh and I am the world's greatest procrastinator. if there is something I don't like to do, I will find a million other things to do besides the hated task and then at the last minute, complete the procrastinated takes in a half assed fashion.

I drive the McDaddy crazy with my disorganized chaos. When we first started dating, I peered into his closet and came out and told him that I could no longer see him because "Only a serial killer would organize their shirts and pants by color, style and hue". Man, if he could have peered into the future, there is absolutely no way he would have married me. It takes me no less than 4 trips back and forth into the house every single day to fetch a forgotten item before leaving. My closet, a giant walk in closet, is only inhabited by ME because he cannot stand my clutter mixed in with his military order. At least once a week The McDaddy has to drive home from work to pick up the kids lunches from either the counter, the front steps or , my favorite, the middle of the road (how can I not notice something hot pink flying off the hood of my car?) and bring them to day care. I have lost so many sets of keys that I am embarrassed to even state how many times we have changed the locks. I have lost checks & expensive jewelry. I could accomplish much more every single day if I would not have to spend half of my timing looking for things I misplaced.

I would love to blame motherhood or a busy work life or ANYTHING at all for my absentmindedness. But I just can't. This syndrome I seem to be suffering from has been around for as long as I have had responsibilities. When I was in my early 20's, my friends all got so aggravated with me for repeatedly driving a half an hour away to the bar with them only to find that I had no ID and ruin everyone's evening that they would not pull away from my driveway without actually physically seeing my driver's license. I recall Socks Over jeans Girl saying to me one time "For such a smart girl you are really really stupid".

Last week I topped what was previously the absolute worst example of my chaotic brain- The inability to leave a foreign country because I lost my identification. Oh yes. I had to call the United States Embassy to get myself out of Mexico. It was pre 9/11, so things were easier. They merely got documentation from the State of CT and faxed it in to the Border Patrol Agency. I vowed to get it together after that, but as you will see illustrated below....Not so much.

My friend Dina (not her real name) is having a baby and her shower is this weekend. About a month ago, 4 of us had talked about pitching in to buy her a 300.00 jogging stroller. I jokingly said that out of protest, I refuse to buy this vehicle just out of principle. Dina got a Bug A Boo as well from her in laws and frankly with the 800.00 that cost and the 300.00 this cost, this child would have 1100.00 worth of vehicles and that is just so entirely wrong in my blue collar world. Anyway, after the joking, we decided to get the stroller. But all of us being stingy meant that none of us wanted to throw it on our credit card. So in the time that we bickered over who was paying for the stroller, her entire registry at the world's most annoying toy store was bought up.

So, that left me with her other two registries, Pottery Barn Kids (for the baby who has EVERYTHING) and Baby Vile, sorry STYLE. I have been saving up PB gift certificates forever, so I figured, let me take a ride up to PBKids and get her some stuff on her registry without taking any money out of my own pocket. So I drive AN HOUR up to PBKids and found like 150.00 worth fo stuff to buy (which would have cost 50.00 at Target, but whatever, I have like 300.00 worth of PB GC's, so I was generous). I get to the register and I pull out two gift cards. They only had 57.00 on them. I swore I grabbed the ones that were full, but apparently, I did not. So I go in to pull out a credit card or perhaps a check book and guess what? No credit cards *unless you count the never activated Old Navy one which I had no idea was in my wallet* and no check book. As I am standing there, mortified, I realized where all of the access to my funds were. My AMEX was taking up residence in my Tan shorts pocket, courtesy of a trip to the gas station the night before. My VISA was on my dresser since I took it out of the pocket of my work pants from the day before. I had used it for lunch. The check book was on the counter. I had put it in the last bag I unloaded from the cart to the car at the grocery store the night before. In the check book was my drivers license. I had no idea why, but I knew it was there.

Snobby sales clerks working (seriously, have you ever noticed the air of nastiness that comes out of Upscale retail folk? I mean, come on...you sell particle board furniture and charge triple the amount for it, you're not running the World Bank). Mortified, I purchased a sweater and a hat and left. I mean seriously, who has no funds with them when they go to Pottery Barn Kids of all freaking places? I had some cash on me, but not much. I knew I was not going to get out to shop anytime in the near future with work and kids and all and the fact that I live near no decent stores .

So what do I do? I go to call to activate the Old Navy Card, which pretty much breaks every one of the McDaddy's rules on credit card usage. No store cards EVER. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Only, when I go to call to activate it from my cell, um, my cell phone was dead. And I HAD FORGOTTEN THE CHARGER. So I activated it in the store. Thankfully they did not want to see ID. Then, after purchasing a bunch of stuff the Dina will probably return because she is all about labels and Old Navy is not good enough for her, I get in my car. Take one look at the gas gauge and start to cry. I am one hour away from home with no cell phone, no credit cards and exactly 7.00 on me. I am driving the van, a 6 cylinder beast and gas was 3.38 a gallon that day.

So I get down on my hands and knees and search every inch of the van. In the process, apparently my pants started to droop and my underwear began to stick out. A lovely young man and his compadres were driving by in the parking lot and saw my BIG BUTT and my even Bigger Underwear and he yelled "That is one BIG %^&". I was HORRIFED. Mortified.

I find 4.10 in change and go to the gas station. Fill up my tank with 11.10 in gas. By the time I get home, I am all out of gas, I have spent 57.00 on a hat and sweater crafted by child labor in South East Asia, activated a credit card at a 22% interest rate, had my large derriere pointed out by hoodlums and my dignity stripped away by snobby Pottery Barn workers who sized me up as trash the minute I could not produce a single form of legal tender out of my Vera Bradley Bag, which was so filthy from being in Boston a few weeks before that I really should just throw it out.

With my 2 seconds of battery life left that I managed to scrounge up,I tried to call Emily in this whole fiasco. And guess what...she was not home. Which was just a perfect end to this perfect story. I had no money, no friends, no gas and not a clue.

Go figure

2007-06-05T19:45:00.000-07:00

He had a perfect day at school today.

This child will put me in an early grave.

How can he tell you every Apollo astronaut but not be able to sit his ass in a chair for more than 5 minutes at a time?

He ate a pound of shrimp and a dozen clams on the half shell tonigth. The big excitement for tomorrow:
"Mommy, that oughtta be one BIG DUMP in the morning".

He is his fathers son.

I love my husband

2007-06-04T20:05:00.000-07:00

And I do not let him know enough.
For all of our ups and downs, the one thing that has always kept me in this marriage has been the fact that he is an amazing dad. This week has proved to me that my husband was born to be the Mister's greatest friend and advocate. I am amazed at the pure, unwavering support and love he has for this little boy.
I don't feel like getting into details about what has been going on, but suffice it to say, our daycare is making the case for people who are anti daycare. I waver between total disgust and total fear about all of the events that have transpired in the past few weeks here. In retrospect, I could kick myself for not yanking my beautiful, brilliant, loving child from the depths of this soul crushing institution at the first sign of trouble this past fall. I am deeply saddened and dismayed at the systematic breakdown of what was once a wonderful and nurturing environment. That is what happens I guess when there is no leadership.

Anyway...10+ years ago I fell in love with a man who was so authoritative, so in control, so incredibly brilliant in his delivery of just about any information that I could not imagine a life without him. Over the years, his bossiness started to get on my nerves, mostly because it was directed at me (frankly, I do need a boss occasionally because let's face it, I am a mess)....but this past week, I became ever so grateful for this take charge authority. To watch him in action...cool and calculating while advocating for our little boy's best interest made em fall in love with him all over again. So if I neglect to remember why I love this man with such a passion, I need only look at him with his children, especially that little boy who thinks his Daddy hung the moon. The Daddy that takes him kayaking at 10:00 on a Saturday morning. The Daddy that takes him to Home Depot and to the dump and spends Saturday evenings watching the SOX with him. The Daddy who takes the time to show him how power tools work and searching for information on the internet on the Mercury and Apollo programs. The Daddy who hardly ever goes for a ride in his convertible without his Mister right next to him riding shot gun.

I am so glad he picked me.

Glass Tiger

2007-05-28T19:34:00.001-07:00

I can;t figure out how to direct feed Youtube so I am C & P'ing.

I'd like you all to tune in to the following video, courtesy of 1988. Seriously, I cannot hear this song and not think of George Greek Long Last Name breaking up with me. I played it over and over and over after I called in to KC101 and requested it. Of course, the first 10 seconds were cut off because, well, you all remember how long the red record button took to kick in, don't you? This song symbolized everything I thought George Greek Long Last Name would be feeling in the near future. He went on to date a really hot girl, so I think that was doubtful.

You MUST watch this video. The styles are quintessential 80's. Hot Pink T-shirts, permed mullets, serious business woman severe Sheena Easton hair. And to complete the look, a BERET.

Enjoy...

http://youtube.com/watch?v=RwEOf2IJp7Y

I am very profound today. Humor me.

2007-05-25T11:17:00.000-07:00

I have been brewing this post for a few days, so bare with me if some of this all seems to be old news.

May 12th, 1972..Hello World, I am Here! Look at me, the girl with the giant humpty dumpty shaped head and cradle cap surrounding the large dome. 35 years from now I will be looking back at the previous 35 years thinking…How did I go from egg headed baby to pretty toddler to chunky pre pubescent to angst ridden teenager, to bad choices college student to young bride to mother in the time that it seemed to change a light bulb? How did 35 years pass before my eyes and I never even took a moment to be thankful for this time allotted me?

I’ve been kind of whiney and annoying about turning 35. I have loved my birthday since I was a little kid. It was always the one day a year I set high expectations for, yet somehow, it always was an entire disappointment. For some odd reason, I have spent 35 years actually looking forward to this day. May 12th, 2007 was no different than May 12th, 1985 when I cried the whole day because I thought magical things like Mel* vin Sant*iago appearing out of nowhere and making me his girlfriend simply because I was now a teenager would transpire. Granted, it wasn’t exactly the same type of disappointment, but it was disappointing.

We went away for my birthday weekend. My husband, God love him, put up with my mood all day. Right from the morning when I chastised him for having the nerve to buy a Carvel Ice Cream Cake and serve it for breakfast (“Don’t you realize how sugared up these kids will be for the trip to Boston? (Ungrateful witch)) & not putting the right shoes on the Mister. The kids were terrible on the trip up and no better when we got to the hotel. We went to California Pizza Kitchen and the food and service were terrible. I took the kids swimming in the hotel pool and The Girl not only pooped in her swimmy diaper, but also got Diarrhea. It was a banner day for the McFamily.

We showered, went on a Duck Tour and walked up to Boylston Street for my Birthday dinner, only to find every place had like a 3 hour wait. So we settled for UNO’s, which was fine considering my kids were whiney and tired. The wait at UNO’s was a half an hour long. I asked my husband to get me a drink because I really really needed one. This was about 15 minutes before our table was to be ready. He said “Why don’t we wait till we get a table?” This, to me, was code for “I am the big boss” and I got all sulky and mad and stopped speaking to him because I am rational like that. Because you know, it was MY BIRTHDAY and the world should be at my beck and call. He got a little tired of my crap and let me know I was being slightly Bit*chy. I responded completely in the fashion that I would have as a 13 year old in 1985 and huffed and left the restaurant, daughter in tow. Husband came to get me with son and advised me that now we had no table since I was nowhere to be found when it was ready. I just cried and cried and ran back to the hotel with my daughter.

After we went back to the hotel, we had a big fight witnessed by my children (Because I was trying so hard for my MOTY award) and nearly left at 8:00 at night to go home. It was not a good scene. Once I finally came to out of my self centered fog, I realized my kids still needed to eat. So off to Uno’s we went again. Only instead of screaming, I just became completely mute. I, if nothing else, am an excellent communicator. Not to mention, terribly mature in dealing with my feelings.

Essentially, I ruined my own birthday.

The next day, Mother’s Day, was the polar opposite of the day before. My mood was much better, my kids were well behaved and my outlook had changed drastically from the day before. It was a glorious day.

Looking back, I think turning 35 had as much of an affect in my mood as the ridiculous expectations I had for commemorating the day I was born. 35, to me, has always been the age where I saw myself as reaching that “certain age” where you can go either way…you can ride the ride into middle age with grace and style, clothing shopping at Talbot’s, vacationing in exotic places, taking classes for enrichment, joining “Book Clubs” doing Yoga and grocery shopping at Whole Foods or you can do what I am currently doing…exercising once in a blue moon, loading up on hydrogenated oils, shopping at whatever stores sell adjustable waist clothing, questioning my lot in life, spending too much time on the computer and yelling at my children. I’m thinking that it is maybe not the number 35 that bothers me, it is how I feel about me at 35 that is bugging me.

I don’t feel 35. I look it, but I don’t feel it. When I look at myself, I don’t notice the burgeoning crow’s feet or the gray hair starting to grow at my roots. I notice the fact that I have finger nails that are bitten down to the quick. I notice that I have bags under my eyes & rolls under my chin. None of the things that bother me are relevant to my age. These are all things that would have bothered me at 22 if I saw them. Then there is the fact that I have not spoken to my sister since March. It’s a long story and she is my sister, so I won’t get into specifics. This is weighing particularly heavily on my shoulders. I miss my sister, but I am angry with her and as evidenced early, I am not very good at communicating orally. We have also been having some serious issues with the kids’ daycare. Some of them have aged me 100 years in a day.

This week someone that graduated 2 years before me from high school died. I did not know him well, but I remember him as kind. You can read about it here.
http://www.wtnh.com/Global/story.asp?S=6550986&nav=menu29_2

Nothing like hearing about something as tragic and horrible as this to get you back into a reality that is not completely self absorbed. He was 37. 2 years older than me. He had a son and a daughter. Just like me. And now he is gone. And I am here. Very lucky to be able to complain about my self inflicted misery.

Anyway, that’s how I feel about being 35. It’s up to me to change how I feel about the next 35.

BTW my friends…thank you for your nice posts to me in the last post. It meant a lot to me that you took the effort to post with suggestions and support.

Little People, Little problems..Big people, big problems

2007-05-23T20:10:00.000-07:00

Feel free to fall asleep. This is a novel.

This has been a hard few weeks for the McFamily. Our daycare is falling apart and the Mister is facing challenges of his own.
The DC has no leadership and is grossly understaffed. The staff that has remained is burnt. The class sizes have drastically increased. Mister is picking up on all of these vibes along with being very apprehensive about kindergarten and being, well, Mister. Mister has always had trouble sitting still when he is bored, respecting boundaries that most kids automatically respect (i.e.waiting till it is his turn to speak, etc), not being the center of attention and not being allowed to run the show. The past week has been a special nightmare for everyone. He has come home with a note virtually everyday in regards to his bad behavior. We responded, probably not too appropriately with tons of punishment. Time in his room, early bed times, beloved things taken away. All attempts at controlling him were futile. The behavior not only stayed, but got worse.

I decided to change things up tonight. And I pray that it works because I am kind of at my last resort. I really feel like all of this negative attention has messed with his psyche. I think he has been labeled "the bad kid" and it has become a self fulfilling prophecy. So, beginning tonight, I stopped punishing. I listened and questioned as to why his day sucked so bad, but didn't punish. I didn't take away privileges like playing soccer with me or going to see the trains at the train station like we had planned to do. I didn't yell or reprimand, I just listened. And I think it was a good call. The Daddy and I had a long discussion on trying to keep things calm for the Mister, spending less time on the screens (computer and TV for all) and more time being a family. Not that I think we were ignoring our kids to begin with, but that half hour we veg out could be better spent with them.

The truth is...I cannot wait for the next 3 months to end at DC. In retrospect, I really think I should have pulled him out in September when we started having issues. Hind sight is 20/20, I guess. We proactively went to visit his principal at his new school just to give her the good, the bad and the ugly of Mister a little over a month ago. After the nightmare we went through this year with ill fitting teachers, I wanted to make sure he is matched appropriately with a teacher who will help enforce his boundaries but not squash his spirit. The principal was wonderfully receptive, so that made us feel pretty confident. But I still fear for the fall.

The Mister is the same kid he was at 6 months old, only magnified. He is busy and interesting and altogether a neat kid. But he likes to run the show. He craves one on one attention. He loves an audience. He doesn;t like to do anything he does not want to do. He has so many wonderful and beautiful qualities that make him one of the neatest kids I have ever known, but depending on who you talk to, he is either "hard to handle", adorable, "Challenging" or "the smartest kid on earth". It is really hard being the parent to kid like this sometimes. He will never be a kid who fits into a cookie cutter mold. He truly marches to the beat of his own drum and with that comes the challenge of getting him to comply with direction. Essentially, he is the perfect candidate for homeschooling, if he had parents that were so equipped, but unfortunately for him, he does not.

I feel constantly judged by others based on his behavior. Much of it is in my own head because I wonder why my child challenges me on everything. Any command takes 10 tries to get completed. Everything is a fight. Brushing teeth, going to bed, stuff of that nature. I don't think I am any less engaged or any less strict than most parents. I just think I have a kid who will always make me have to find new and imaginative ways to deal with issues. A couple of friends with kids my sons age have made comments to me about how hard I am on him some times. But they just don't get it. If I don't keep him on a short leash, mayhem will transpire.I guess it is easy to judge when you have a compliant child. I know because I have one. My daughter will yell at me while she is taking direction, but will still do everything she is told to do. Of course she'll lie to my face that she didn't eat the cookies while licking chocolate off the side of her mouth.

The Mister can't lie to save his life. He never even bothers trying. I always know that if he tells me something, it is the gospel truth. And I love that quality about him. I love so much about him. I love that tonight at the train station he started sobbing because The sister ran ahead and he was terrified that she would fall in the tracks. Not loving him being terrified, but loving that he cares so deeply for his sister. I love that he is kind and sweet to his Grammy and treats her like she is gold. I love that he sings freely and openly, that he does the weather report at school everyday complete with Microphone and weather man name "This is D*an McHurricane live from Ne*w Ha*ven". I love that he doesn't just love trains, but he knows trains. Like the name model and destination for every train that passes through our station. I love that he can open up an almanac and be amused for hours.

There are so many things I love about this boy that it pains me to see him get in trouble. It also pains me to see that the very people who are supposed to nurture him on a daily basis at DC have tired of him.

Like I said, we have three more months. To pull him out of DC right now and put him in a different center right before his big change to kindergarten would be disastrous. He has been at this DC for five years. He doesn't deal well with change.

I am sorry to write a book to get to my point. I need help here, people. He isn't getting much out of DC right now so I need to work on preparing him for kindergarten more at home. Homeschoolers especially, any curriculum suggestions? Any ideas for ways to deal with his non compliance and defiance? Anyone have their very own mister?

PS-we have had meetings with the DC till we are blue in the face. I am attending a meeting with the Board of Directors tomorrow with other parents to show our displeasure.

School Pictures

2007-05-16T20:09:00.000-07:00

No, I do not have a scanner so I took pics of pics.
Yes, my son is making his Mean Monster Face in the class picture. And no, I am not embarassed by it as a few people have quizzed me about. This is what makes my Mister, well, Mister...

Do you nickname?

2007-05-14T08:33:00.000-07:00

I love talk of names. I love names in general. Since Pregnant Patti is in full afect now, I figured I'd help with her name decisions. (you, too, Courthouse Girl)So tell me, do you use nicknames?

My son is Da*niel. Or D*an. We also call him Mister, Buddy, Bubbles, Bubs and Buster. I call him Buster most.

My daughter is C*aroline. We call her Car*a most, followed by Linie, Lina, Bean, The Bean, Lina Bean.

I am S*uzanne. Su*z for short, Su*zie to be who have known me since birth, S*ue to my high school friends (I hate it).

Mich* ael is Mi*ke or Mi*chael. I call him Mi*ck or Mick*ey. No one else does.

If I had future children, I'd have named them Lia*m and No*ah, Ma*tthew, Mas*on(that's the only boys names I can think of), M*olly, Mere*dith, Ma*ggie, Gra*ce, A*melia. I also love Sar*ah, Nat*alie, Isabel, Oliv*ia, Ann*a, Ka*te (Kat*herine), Kel*sey, E*mily, El*lie, Nor*a, Lei*la, A*va,Made*leine.

It was really hard picking The Girls name. As you recall, Ca*roline was a front runner, but I was waiting for something else to jump out at me. At the last minute M*ike threw "Paige" in there, but I declined. I like Paige, it just didn't have that thing I was looking for. Godo Luck, my pregnant friends, deciding on your baby's names!

For Danyelle and Amy

2007-05-13T21:29:00.000-07:00

Just so you do not get homesick...

One Question...Why?

2007-05-13T21:26:00.000-07:00

I am an awful person.
Please note the pants of the child in question...

Pictures Pictures

2007-05-13T21:18:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday to SLB

2007-05-13T20:11:00.000-07:00

I have 47 minutes left of your birthday to wish you a happy one...
so Happy 32nd, Southern Lawyer Boy...
Now go buy yourself a Volvo or something.

Happy Birthday to Me

2007-05-11T21:00:00.000-07:00

35.

It's been a good ride to middle age......

Offensive

2007-05-10T12:34:00.000-07:00

Because I have not offended enough people with my "You will go to hell if you feed your kids Apple Jacks" post, I figured I'd offend the rest of you and insult the whole concept of direct marketing.

I ma going against every inch of my moral fiber tomorrow night and hosting a "Lia Sop*hia" demonstration. What is Lia Sop*hia you ask? Why it's the former Lady Remington, the offshoot company of Reming*ton for Men (y'all do remember Victor Ki*am, don't you?...dating myself). Apparently Lady Rem*ington, which sounds to me like it is something that comes from a mail order company in a plain brown wrapper, was run by Tory Kiam, who, by his name, you would think was a woman, but no, he is a guy. With Remington Steele hair, no less. Check out their site. http://corporate.liasophia.com/founders.html You'll see what I mean. Any way, Tory (not Spelling, Not a Girl) has two daughters. I guess you can figure out what their names are. He renamed the company for them. Lucky girls who look like they summer in the Hamptons.

And how, pray tell, do I know so much about the Ki*am Family? Because my husband's niece is selling this overpriced stuff. And I got to sit through her whole spiel last night. For the 2nd time. And I get to do it tomorrow night. For the 3rd time. Mind you, she used to sell Mary freaking Kay as well. You remember...she would not let me come to the demonstration with my 3 week old because it was too distracting. Now she is on to harassing us with her jewelry. But if you knew his niece, you'd know that this is right up her alley. She's bubbly and personable and altogether naive. She thinks this pyramid scheme is going to actually make her as rich as the Ki*ams. I see L*ia Sop* hia demonstration samples under the tree for the next 7 years.

Seriously, that is all that these rackets are. Big Pyramid schemes under pretty disguises. Mary K* ay, Longa*berger, Pam*pered Ch*ef, Creat*ive Memories, Stam*ping Up- all a Big. Freaking. Pyramid Scheme. Think Am*way. Anytime someone else makes money off someone else for getting someone else to sign up that just screams "fraud" to me.

I have a real problem with inviting friends to my house just to spend money on things they don't want, don't need and would never buy otherwise. It seems entirely in poor taste. Yet, I find myself taking tomorrow off to clean my house to host this fiasco. And I have no idea how this happened. Which I guess is the absolute beauty of Direct marketing and why Tory K*iam has enough money to buy Li*a and S*ophia Lilly Pulit*tzer clothing. People get sucked into it and have no idea how it happened. They see stories in the brochures about how this woman in Texas wanted to stay home with her kids and went to a party and next thing you know she is driving a Pink Cadillac and taking her family to Hawaii. What they neglect to tell you is that the majority of the people who get involved in these scams lay a whole lot of money out of their own pockets to buy the "demonstration" product and never sell a thing after. Hence why I'll be getting Mary Kay skin toner that makes my face so red I could cry for my birthday from Mike's niece again this year.

I am just a pessimist by nature. I get the reason this whole concept was started. I even wikipediaed it to verify my suspicions. Back in 1946, most women were done being Ro*sie the Riv*etor now that their men were back from Europe or the Pacific Rim. But they liked the way it felt to be in the work force. T*upperware grabbed hold of this and started the whole direct marketing concept. Women suddenly had some autonomy of their own again by hawking plastic containers to their friends and neighbors over smokes and martinis. And a billion dollar industry was born.

The thing is, I think these companies use women. I think women see the pictures of the wholesome families in Utah (I swear the St*mping U*p People are kin to my Utah friend H*olly-I believe I saw this picture in her hallway. http://www.stampinup.com/us/enu/103.asp )and think that they too can stay home and raise their kids in a wholesome environment where the whole world scrap books (quick trivia fact...St*amping U*p sells no Liquor promoting stamps) and prays together. And while that may be true (though in my world we tend to throw back wine at these parties), I think more times than not, the only people getting rich off this stuff is the Utah people in the photograph.

This bugs me for the simple fact that the products they sell are sub standard over priced crap. And believe me, I have been the victim of enough of these clowns to be able to judge. With the exception of my super awesome 9 X 12 Long*aberger baking dish, pretty much every item I have ever purchased at a dem has broken or never been used. I actually bought an Apple Corer from Pam*pered Chef. You know, cause I bake so many pies. But at the demonstration, the lady made it look so easy. I have bought the vegetable chopper from them as well. Total Piece of Crap. From Lia So*phia, I have purchased 2 necklaces, 2 bracelets and 2 pair of earrings. The first week that I wore the earrings, I went to the bathroom, looked in the mirror and found that one of the earrings had partially broken off, never to be seen again. One of the necklaces, the clasp broke the 2nd time I wore it. When I tried to return it, me, being me, didn't have a receipt. So despite the fact that Li*a So*phia is stamped all over it, I apparently was trying to pull one over on them. Stam*ping Up. Don't get me started on that. I bought a set of baby stamps for a friend who was having a baby. Literally 7 stamps. I about died when the total came to 48.00.

The funniest thing is that ALL of my friends know my opinions on these things. Yet, they keep inviting me because they know I will come and spend money out of obligation. Seriously, why do women need an excuse to get away from their kids for the night. Why can't we just get together and have apps and wine and not have to bring our check books? Men do this all the time. Why do we have to do it under the guise of a frou frou party?

Anyone feel like coming to my house tomorrow? I'm making Guac......and I will serve it out of my 5 X 7 Long*aberger baking dish in a basket that has a plastic liner and material liner which, when all totalled up, cost me the low low price of 104.99. In 1999 dollars.

Okay Amy-Here are the Misters answers

2007-05-08T07:19:00.000-07:00

Something you do well: I am a good swimmer. I also am a good singer and I can jam on my axe pretty good, too.

Something you can improve upon: I don't listen very well and sometimes I say bad words.

Your favorite food: shrimp

Three words that best describe you: funny, big eyes, naughty

Your happiest moment: I like when my Daddy plays Monopoly with me and my Mommy reads me The Lorax. I like the Lorax because the Onceler says "Shut Up, if you please" and that makes me laugh and laugh and laugh.

The most important thing in your life right now: All my family in the whole wide world except for Car*oline when she screams. My scooter is very important to me but Mommy took it away on Friday because I was mouthy and didn't give it back to me until Saturday and that made me mad.

I'm sick of seeing my face

2007-05-03T07:49:00.000-07:00

If you look really close in the first picture, you'll see someone who appears to be a pregnant ghost. Nop. No ghost. Just me in the latest summer fashion. I need to burn that shirt.

Mister Day #2

2007-05-02T19:17:00.000-07:00

Compliments of Kindergarten Orientation. 10 stops, all Misters choice and not an ounce of gratitude.
1st Stop-Bagels
2nd Stop-John Deere tractor store
3rd Stop-Kindergarten Orientation- Not impressed
4th Stop-Friendly's
5th Stop-Police Department for a Tour that never happened
6th Stop-Fire Department for a Tour that did happen
7th Stop-Back to John Deere
8th Stop- Train Station
9th Stop- Dairy Queen (yes, we pigged today)
10th Stop-Kohl's. Mister wanted to "try on clothing" (between that and the constant singing of "These are a few of my Favorite things, I wonder...). He tried on SOX pajamas. I bought them.
It all broke down when we went to get the girl. Suddenly "D*niel Day was not fun at all Mommy. I never get to do anything I want to do ever. You never listen to me ever. This is the worst day of the whole life". Total. Effing. Brat.

Here are some pictures...don't mind my pretty zits. I'll have you people know that I do alot for you. Even share ugly pictures of myself. We were having such a good time when I took these shots of us. That's why I posted them. To remind me that he was actually nice to me at some point today.

Two Beautiful pictures of two beautiful people

2007-04-29T20:35:00.000-07:00

Oh Danny Boy

2007-04-29T20:06:00.000-07:00

The Pipes, the pipes...

I'll let you all deduce who the star was on Saturday night at this Police Bagpipers Benefit Macaroni and Meatball supper at the Irish Club in my hometown. I know- Ziti and Meatballs don't exactly scream "Irish", but you can feed lots of people for relatively little money on that paltry amount. All profit.

The good news is, he had a great time. The bad news is, he wants a set of bag pipes. My grandfather, who was in the NYPD Emerald Society http://www.nypdemeralds.com/history.shtml, used to always say that the bagpipes sounded like squealing pigs being tortured. He marched in the St. Pat's parade with the Pipe and Drummers from the Emerals Society, so he woudl know!

One guess who hated the pipes?

Frankly Sallie Mae

2007-04-27T06:45:00.000-07:00

After 12 years of writing checks to you, I expected more. 12 years, 150.00 a month and I finally own my degree. A form letter from my loan provider was a very anti climatic end to this very long process. I expected a ticker tape parade.

Of course they already sent me a letter asking me if I would like to take out another loan. Thanks but no thanks. You people are more brutal than the mafia if you miss a payment. Sallie Mae will hunt you down and ruin your life. They took lessons from the folks at American Express. 11 years ago I was not such a good bill payer. Probably because I had no funds to pay my bills. So I got really cozy with my good friends at Sallie Mae and AMEX.

And today, I owe no one but my big bad mortgage company, WaMu (stupid acronym- Washington Mutual) and a few hundred more to Daimler Chrysler.

It's nice to be a responsible adult.

Spring fashion

2007-04-25T13:57:00.000-07:00

Everyone is pregnant in the whole wide world.

I have given in and joined them. People spent the entire day yesterday staring are me as if I had a secret to share.
No secret, people. Nothing growing in the abdominal region but a bad case of Kashi Go Lean induced gas.

The good part of the spring Maternity wear collection being sported by everyone from toddlers to blue hairs is that EVERYBODY looks pregnant. So everyones reproductive habits are being questioned. The bad news is that EVERYONE looks pregnant. I don't know whether to say "Congratulations" to anyone. And the former sure fire way to tell if someone was in a "family way" (which automatically elicits thoughts of Duggars), the tie in the back of the shirt-yeah, not so effective anymore. The Non-Maternity maternity-looking spring clothing lines have included the ties in the back. The good part for those procreating soon is that your actual clothes can double as maternity clothing.

I am so confused.

A little spelling tip for the world at large. I have no business typing this as I am a TYPO queen, but here goes. It is Definitely not spelled DEFINATELY. Let's all say this phonetically now-
DE FINITE LY. There is not a person in the world that knows how to spell this word, I am convinced.

And for Emily, a little reminder to all you open toed shoe wearers. It's April. Go get yourself a 25.00 pedicure. Preferably every 6 weeks. You'll feel better and so will we.