Reflections on 8 years

Tuesday was our wedding anniversary. It's hard to believe, but it has been 8 years since I made the long walk down the aisle with Hubby. Sometimes it feels like yesterday. We celebrated the day quietly, but perfectly. First, Hubby took the day off of work which was great. We got First son off on the school bus and then dropped the remaining cherubs at their grandparents house. We went to breakfast and then headed down to the beach. It was a beautiful day, and it was such a luxury to be able to go to the beach and not have to lug a million things. All we brought was a blanket and some sweatshirts. We lazed on the beach for a while, listening to the waves crash and actually having a conversation! It was pure indulgence. We took a long walk along the shore, till just before the nude beach (yuck). Then we went shopping for ingredients to make a nice dinner. We bought the kids TV dinners - a treat, since they've never had them ever before, and hubby even let them have ice cream for dessert! Then he tucked them away in bed while I set to creating a masterpiece menu. We had arugula with herbed goat cheese for a first course, then chicken saltimbocca and asparagus risotto for dinner. For dessert, a lovely peanut butter and chocolate tart that we picked up at the local bakery. All in all it was a heavenly day.

Reflecting on the past eight years, I realize that I am one lucky girl. I am still very much in love, with my very best friend. Hubby and I have been through a lot, much of it good, but some of it very bad. The thing is that we made it through together. We can take on anything at this point. My Hubby is funny (he especially thinks so); and he's smart; he's an incredible Dad (no, really - he has been known to take all three cherubs to the beach - by himself!); he is always there for me, whether I need a weather report, a bug extermination, or a recipe conversion; he is strong for me when I can't be for myself, and he always offers up some perspective when I think I've gotten myself into a corner. We share the same dreams (some people think we're building a soccer team, actually, it's a restaurant staff!). I don't know where I'd be without him. (Hollywood?, Broadway?) I look forward to the next eight years. I love you Hubby!

Mama's Eggs

I work at this neat little hole in the wall luncheonette/coffee shop every Sunday. The place seats a total of 22 people, including 10 counter seats, and the grill is right out in the open. From the looks of it, you'd expect nothing more than your typical greasy spoon, slinging eggs and hash. On the contrary, the cook/owner is a certified chef and former culinary instructor, with a four star resume. He puts up breakfast specials that are absolutely gourmet. This place is a gem, and I love working there in part because the money is great for 1 day's work, but also because I am a foodie and I learn and taste something new every time I walk through the door.
For the past few weeks we've had a special on the board, "Mama's Eggs". It is two eggs poached in marinara sauce, served with half a loaf of Italian bread and a slab of butter. It is amazing! The marinara sauce is incredible, and the addition of the eggs is brilliant. One of our regular customers is the chef's brother. He came in, looked at the specials board and asked "What's Mama's Eggs?" Chef looked at him (with a knife in his hand) and said "What are you kidding me? They're eggs the way Mom used to make them!" Of course he has been in practically every day ordering them. One day he even brought in two friends and his own loaf of bread!
This has got me thinking about the sentimental connections we have to food. Food is so much more than sustenance. Food connects us to the people we love whether they are here to share in the meal with us or not. For myself and my brothers and sisters food presents a strong connection to our late father. Sauerbraten, halvah, eggplant parmesan, Sabretts, Cheez Waffies, pea soup, Necco Wafers, Cheez Whiz and Ritz Crackers, Chef Boy-ar-dee, corned beef hash, Campbell's Tomato Soup, cream cheese & jelly, and black jelly beans. I can't eat, buy or even see any of these and not be instantly transported to some memory involving my Dad, they were his favorites right along with Schmidt's Beer and the occasional Cutty Sark. These foods are worth so much more to me than what their Nutritional Information label reveals. For me, a meal or a snack made up of these foods is like stealing time, an extra moment with Dad. Honestly, popping open a jar of Cheez Whiz may not be the best thing for my waistline, but it is a whole lot easier on my wallet than ten minutes with a psychic medium!

Smoking at the Bus Stop- Seriously??

Seven days of school, and already I have a queasy feeling in my gut. The cause of my ojeda?Smoking at the bus stop. Seriously? With your 6 year old standing right there? I am incensed! First of all, I take issue with smoking period. I don't understand how anyone under the age of 70 could be that stupid. (That's right, you are stupid!) There is no excuse for it. I will give a little leniency to recovering drug addicts and alcoholics who need to have a lesser evil, but even they should not be smoking on the bus stop for crying out loud.
So, there is this guy, dare I call him a "dad"? who each morning is standing at the bus stop (did I mention it's a bus stop for kindergartners and first graders?) puffing away on his cancer stick. What to do??? Well, I don't want to get into an argument with the guy in front of the kids, so I kind of just stand back for a few days, figuring that once First Son is safely on the bus I can have a peaceful, grown-up chat with Joe Camel. Not so much, as an added show of concern for the well being of his offspring, Mr. Camel leaves the bus stop as soon as he sees the bus approaching. Argh. I mentioned it to the school principal last night at the PTA meeting, hoping she would be able to do something, but of course she cannot offer me anything more than a simple "thank you for being concerned." (Thank me? for being concerned? about my child?- there's a whole 'nother post.)
The other concern is, I don't want to piss this guy off, since he knows where I live - the bus stop is right in front of mi casa, and make him gather up his gang banger friends to come throw machetes in my backyard-again. I figure, I am going to have to see this guy at the bus stop every day for the rest of the year, so, I don't want to make an enemy. At the same time, I need to say something, because not only is his smoking posing a health hazard for me and my children, but it is undermining the values I am trying to teach them as well. My friend SBW, she is a vigilante. She tells anyone and everyone exactly what they are doing wrong in her eyes. On one hand, I admire her for being gutsy, on the other hand I don't want to be like her, because she isn't always the most tactful, and I think she pisses more people off than she rehabilitates.
I decide that I will take the "get more bees with honey" approach. I will say it with a smile. Today, I go to the bus stop a few minutes early, and there he is only...no cigarette! Is this a victory, or was he just between smokes? Methinks the latter. I walk right up with my bedhead and smeared mascara (it is 7:30 AM, and let's face it I live in a 9AM world) , smile and say, "good morning, I am sorry I didn't get you name, I met your wife last week." He says "Jose" I said " Hi Jose, I am Patricia, nice to meet you." " He smiles, then turns back to searching for the elusive yellow wagon. Jose Jr. pipes up "My Mom is not his wife". Shocking!
So tomorrow, my new friend Jose and I can have a friendly chat - I mean, we are on a first name basis now and all. I will smile politely and say " I don't mean to put you on the defensive, and you probably don't even realize it's a problem, but do you think you might be able to wait a few minutes until the bus pulls away before you light up?" Thanks Jose.
If that doesn't work, look for the FOR SALE sign on my lawn. We just don't fit in in this neighborhood.

God Bless America

While the storm clouds gather far across the sea,

Let us swear allegiance to a land that's free,

Let us all be grateful for a land so fair,

As we raise our voices in a solemn prayer.

God bless America, land that I love

Stand beside her and guide her

Through the night with the light from above

From the mountains To the prairies,

To the ocean white with foam

God bless America, My home sweet home.

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Today, like every September 11th since 2001, is a somber day. I tried to watch on TV, as the names of the victims were being read, but Curly kept whining at me to put on her show, and anyway, I was afraid I'd have to explain the tears that I could not hold back, and I don't know how to do that, so I shut the TV off altogether. First Son's school is marking the day today, by making patriotic pinwheels and planting them around the school. Theirs is the first class in the school who were not even born when the tragedy occurred (although several of them I am sure were conceived in the days and weeks following). I wonder what FS will have to say about it when he comes home, I wonder how I will respond. These are the days when I know that it is easier to be the parent of a baby, than it is of a child who walks, talks and thinks. Once they start to think, they can be afraid and confused. As a parent it is my job to ease their fears, to help them work through their confusion. I don't know how to do that today, I am sometimes still afraid and I am confused. What I do know, is that I live in the greatest country in the world, regardless of any mistakes our nation may or may not make. What I know is that I , and my husband were both blessed to have parents who were brave enough, and strong enough to leave their homes to come to this country so that we, and our children could fully enjoy all of our freedoms. What I also know is that those Freedoms do not come for free.
I will teach my children to love, and respect and bring honor to their country. I will teach them that they must fight for and protect their freedoms. And I will teach them that no matter what, they are American, something of which they are to be fiercely proud, just as my father taught me to be. God Bless America.

There were doubts but...

We did it. We survived the first day of school (we, because I deserve at least as much credit as First Son). And with flying colors, I might add. It wasn't easy getting up and having everything ready, since we had just gotten home from Disney at 9PM the night before, but we did it. First son climbed right up the steps of the bus and waved back to us with a great big smile. I waited until the bus pulled away and then broke down sobbing, as was my right. I did NOT, however, get in my car and follow the school bus, which is more than I can say for some of my neighbors. Yeah! me!

My little baby boy, who just 5 years and one month ago was cradled safe and snug in my arms, is now out in the world, without me. It is hard to believe it, because it really does go by so fast. That is what everybody (especially older people) tells you when you are a parent of young children, "enjoy it, it goes so fast" It really does.

For the past five years my little guy has been by my side every single day. All of a sudden I see him for half an hour in the morning and then boom, he's off on the yellow wagon till the dredges of the afternoon roll around. By ten in the morning I looked at hubby and said " I am so lonely". So, I baked a cake. It came out pretty good too, at least I think so. (come on stroke my ego a little, I could use it)

First son had a great time at school, where he was greeted by his favorite stuffed animal, Super Bear (his real name!) His teacher is nice, Hubby and I went up and met her in the afternoon, and I have filled out the form to become "class mother". I will know in a few days if I get it or not. So, first PTA meeting is set for 9/17. As I said, once I made the decision to go ahead with the public school thing I would jump in with both feet. Whee!

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Tower of babble

Things change pretty quickly around here. I mean, with three little ones, the littlest being very little, (and when I say little, I by no means mean small) they are always changing and growing and learning. No two days are the same. Poor hubby has been away most of the month, stopping home to sleep about once a week before jetting off again, and unfortunately he has missed a lot. For instance:

Paddy boy talks. Yes, that is crazy. No, I am not crazy. Well, at least not for this reason anyway.

Seriously, in the past I have talked to Moms who have told me that their own cherubs were talking at 7, 8, 9 months old. I have always smiled politely and nodded, then as soon as the coast was clear, rolled my eyes to holy heaven and had a good laugh. "I mean really lady, we all think our babies are geniuses, but don't you think, just maybe you are looking a little too far into the baby babble for meaning? "

Trust me, I have two children who can form complete sentences and one who is even beginning to grasp the nuances of sarcasm -, I know that talking children are nothing to get excited about! Talking children quickly learn to talk back, to be fresh, to question your authority! (why mommy?) - the best parenting advice I ever got, but of course, failed to heed, was "don't teach him to talk". That said, now, I have an 8 month old baby who talks! Really.

At 8 1/2 months of age, Paddy Boy says - in appropriate circumstances - "Mommy", "Grandma", "First Son" and yesterday morning, when I handed him a matchbox car to occupy him while I was changing his diaper, "Car". I thought I had my hands full with Curly, I have a feeling that I haven't seen anything yet!
Did I mention that he also crawls 100mph and stands up?

Aren't you curious?

Where have I been!!??

I ask myself this. The thing is that Hubby has been spending more time this month in FLA than at home. August 2007 and I am essentially a single parent! I am not really crying tears in my chicken soup though, I have perspective on this, it's just that I don't have time to blog.

Anyway I thought I would just log on quickly tonight to share the news that you may have been waiting for....


It is official...

First Son is going to kindergarten.

We have made our decision and I am now 100% on board, PTA and the whole bit. That is not to say that on September 5th I am not going to be having a serious mental breakdown, but I promised my friend Karen (another MrsP, seems there are a lot of us) - that I will NOT follow the bus.

So, do me a favor and say a prayer for me, and for First Son. Oh yeah, throw one in for Mrs. Hayes too, she has no idea what she's in for!! Ha ha.

Mom, you're a Hippo

First son and I have this silly game that we love to play. He will say "Mom, you're a Hippo." I will then feign indignation (because really, the term "hippo" - not so complimentary), and I will grab him and squeeze him, then refuse to let him go until he proclaims, through giggles, "Mom, you're not a Hippo, you're my Mommy and I love you"
I can't believe my sweet baby boy is almost 5!

Not sleeping

I must confess, I am not sleeping well at night. Paddy boy has little to do with it. I have something on my mind and it is BIG. Hubby and I are thinking about keeping First Son home from Kindergarten. Homeschooling him. I think about it all the time, I read books, I search the web, and mostly I lie awake in bed at night. I feel like I don't really have anyone to talk to about this besides Hubby, and it is almost the only thing we do talk about. I wish there were someone else whom I could bounce my ideas off of, someone who could help me make this decision.

The thing is that where we live, homeschooling is, well, weird. My family thinks I am crazy, although they have been very nice and respectful, as I requested in an earlier post, but I know they think it is weird. My friends are all so excited about sending their own cherubs off, that they couldn't possibly understand why I wouldn't want to. I don't blame these people for their attitudes, because not that long ago I too would have said - "what are you crazy?" I would never have thought that I would be the type to even consider homeschooling, and yet here I am. There also isn't any one pivotal moment either, this is an idea that has developed over time, I guess the past 5 years.

I have thought about the idea that if this were the right decision, it wouldn't be so hard to make, but when I think about just sending him off to kindergarten, I don't get excited about that either.

The kindergarten bus will be outside my door in a little over a month. I am feeling the pressure to make this decision. Maybe if it weren't full-day kindergarten I would feel better, but it is full day, so there is no room for "maybe". I am leaning toward keeping him with me and teaching him myself. What is holding me back? I think it is peer pressure, society pressure. I don't usually give in to that kind of pressure. Do I? Well, I do have that Vera Bradley bag. Hmmmm.

There are just so many wonderful things about homeschooling, and I can't list even half as many on the opposite subject, public schooling. Still, I am hesitating. Why?

Here it is, an open question, I welcome your comments on the following:

please respond in the comments section, and please do not be "anonymous"

1.WHY should I send First Son to public Kindergarten?

Bambi isn't just a Disney Character

I wasn't going to do this, I thought about it, but I wasn't going to do this. Now, you made me do this!

At dinner the other night I heard a tale about an old flame of Mr. DD. Of course he's madly in love with my good friend DD, even after 18? years of marriage (lots of softball), but he clearly has a soft spot for his old flame. Her name was Bambi. I know, I know what you're thinking, but there was a really good reason that her mother named her Bambi. Bambi's mother was involved in a terrible auto accident while she was pregnant, she almost lost her own life, and the life of her unborn daughter. It seems that there is a biblical/Hebrew meaning for the word Bambi - "miracle of God". Bambi seemed the most fitting name in the situation.
You may be wondering what happened in the accident. It was rather tragic. She was driving down the highway late at night and...she hit a deer.

My lawyers are on vacation.

A snooze button

Wow. It seems I have a stalker, er, fan. A few days go by without a post, and suddenly my inbox is full of people (er, person) demanding that I get back to the blog! Relax Jack'sMom, here I am.

The reason I have been away is because I have been concentrating on getting my family into the new routine I outlined in a previous post. It is working quite nicely too, with just a few kinks needing to be ironed out. For instance, now that the cherubs all go to bed nice and early they now wake up...nice and early. I know, I know, that was the point. However, now that they get up early, I have to get up early! Argh. Anyone who knows me knows that I don't do early. (whoever coined the phrase "nice" and early was a moron)For the past five years I have arranged for my whole brood to not stir before 8AM, I don't accept calls before 9AM, this is widely known. Now, I have painted myself into a corner, so to speak. I want and need the cherubs in bed early, so therefore I must adjust to waking up at 6:30AM.
Last night I decided I would retire early myself. I was in my bed at 8PM - but then I started reading. The book I was reading is marvelous, and I couldn't put it down until 10PM. Then, to sweeten things, it seems that Paddy Boy is now teething boy. (About time, he's 8 mos. old as of Friday and he has no fangs!) He was up multiple times during the night and he was quite inconsolable unless I was running my finger across his gums. (I should have had a little Jameson on my finger, I know) Curly girl then got up and decided to come into our room. Before you know it, hubby's alarm was going off, and there was first son staring me in the face asking "what are we going to do today Mom? Argh. Why don't kids come with a snooze button?
The reason for beginning this early to bed scheme is that the kindergarten bus comes at 7:30AM, which means that First son needs to be up between 6:30 and 6:45, in order to have a healthy breakfast and start his day. The kicker is that we are now considering starting the whole homeschooling thing this year, and not sending him to kindergarten. Alas, nothing has been decided yet and so I must err on the side of caution and get his bones and mine - ready to go - "nice and early".

Much Better Today

Ok, So yesterdays post was a little, um, well, let's just say emotional. Today was much better. It's amazing what a good night's sleep can do for ya! That, plus the hours I spent agonizing over ways to improve the outcome of my days. Here's some of what I have come up with:

1. Schedule - it is imperative that we implement and adhere to (is that redundant?) a schedule, one for the mornings, one for the evenings. Well, hubby and I have already discussed and begun implementing an evening routine, because we need to get First son and his mother ready to catch that 7:30 am bus that will be pulling up out front in a little over a month!
Dinner is at 6PM or earlier, but not later. Immediately following dinner are baths. 10 minute time limit in the tub, and hair washing is mandatory. Upstairs, jammied, and reading a story by 7PM, asleep by 7:30. So far, it's going ok, with the exception of asleep by 7:30, but I know that that will come with time. We really have to be strict with ourselves about keeping this schedule with very little exception. Especially in the beginning.
Today I started a morning "routine" which consists of, bathroom (my kids esp, Curly, need to be reminded to go to the bathroom), breakfast, fang scrubbing, clothes, make beds/straighten-up bedroom. Then, Mom's errands, which leaves the rest of the day open for playing. Since this was only the first day I can't comment on progress yet!

2. Nutrition - Usually we are pretty good with eating a balanced diet and not letting the kids have too much sugar, but it needs to be more of a priority. I find that first son especially is a little off kilter when he hasn't eaten properly. Yesterday he had a bag of Goldfish for breakfast, ice cream for lunch (at VBS,- I wouldn't have given him ice cream for lunch!), and a bowl of honey nut cheerios for snack - (at a friend's - I don't stock sugar cereal) - so no wonder that by the time dinner rolled around he was off the wall! Today was much better - He had a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of OJ before VBS, then a Jelly sandwich on WW (is mine the only kid on the planet who doesn't like PB?), a plum, some apple juice, an ice cream bar ( hey, we were at the pool, and he had eaten his whole lunch, plus fruit!) Then I have implemented another new part of our schedule - the 4:30PM snack - today it was 1/4 of a green pepper and some baby carrots with ranch dip. Both kids gobbled it up and then - miracle - did not bug me every two minutes till dinner that they were "hungy". Extra bonus - they then ate their whole dinners - MacNCheese, chicken spring roll, and green beans with a big old glass of milk! Curly even asked for seconds! In sharp contrast to yesterday, today I may actually qualify for MOTY, I count 5 servings of fruit/veg!

3. No computer for Mom until after the kids are asleep! - this one is tough, but it will probably make a big difference.

4. Get Hubby on board for all of the above! Good thing he checks my blog frequently!

This isn't everything, but it is a start. I mean the one thing I definitely figured out yesterday is that some changes need to be made. I don't want to have to call Nanny Jo to come fix my problems!

Woe is me

Attention: This post is at best, melancholy. You have been warned.

Tonight is not a good night. I am feeling monumentally sad, dissatisfied with myself, and with my abilities as a mother and a wife. Basically, I suck. I have been fighting these feelings for a long time now. Months at least. I have been trying really hard to keep myself distracted, and for a while especially with the hub-bub of the nuptials, it was working, but now that has worn off. I can't put my finger on any one thing, there are so many things that upset me.

Tonight I just really don't like myself. I am not being the kind of mother I want to be. Today, I am really tired. I don't really have the luxury of being tired, with 3 little ones in the house, but today, I am tired. When I am tired I have no patience. I yell. A lot. I threaten. I am cranky and I am mean. It is not the cherubs' fault that I am tired. It is my fault. So why then do I take it out on them? Because obviously, I am a lousy mother.

I had this thought tonight, as I was holding Paddy boy, I flashed back to when First son was in my arms as a new baby. I realized that as I held my firstborn baby back then, and dreamed of the wonderful life we would have together as mother and child, none of my fantasies contained the types of rage and anger that I was displaying today and tonight. No matter how much good I do, however loving and cuddling and adoring a mother I am most of the time, I know that I erase that with just a minute's worth of mean Mommy.

Don't get me wrong, as much as the cherubs are indeed angelic, they are also quite mischievous and have lately been pushing the envelope on "fresh". Still, I am the grown-up, and sometimes I don't act like it.

Please don't write me any comments about stuff I already know. I am being hard enough on myself tonight. If you have something constructive or supportive to say however, I could use it.

Re-evalutaing Friendships

So last night hubby and I went out to a lovely dinner with some very close friends to celebrate her birthday. Yes, we sprung for a babysitter and all! The restaurant was good, the decor was lovely, homey, and welcoming. The service was just OK,our waitress was working the whole room alone, with just one 12 year old bus-boy, and I don't think the restaurant expected or prepared for what turned out to be a Tuesday night rush, so I won't hold it against them. The food was mostly good - baked clams C-, filet mingon A+. The only real negative is that the restaurant was very LOUD. Sometimes it was hard to hear each other speak. Alas, the acoustical issues of the restaurant are not to blame for what I am about to tell you.

As a gift for the birthday girl, I had gotten a lovely necklace with a silver claddagh which lays over a beautiful, shiny white disc. After the gift was opened we were all admiring it, and a discussion began about the white disc, namely exactly what it was made of. It went like this:
Someone: "is that mother of pearl?"
Me: "I thought it was Capis Shell"
Her: "Appolonia?"
Me: giggle
Him: "What did you say?"
Me: "I said I thought it was Capis Shell"
Her: "Is that what it is? Appolonia?"
Me: giggle, and then, in my best bad Italian accent,
" Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Wednesday"
Them: Blank stares
Me: "What do you think it is?" (maybe I hadn't heard right)
Her: "Appolonia"
Me: "Monday Tuesday, Thursday, Wednesday"
Them: nothing

I think I have to reevaluate this friendship. I don't know if I can be friends with people who don't regularly quote Godfather scenes and work them into everyday conversation, or at the very least, appreciate it when others do. Do they even realize that Appolonia is one of the most tragic characters in the entire trilogy? Think how different Michael's life as Don would have been if Appolonia hadn't been blown to bits, forcing him to return to the arms of the very "naive" Kay? Michael needed a good Italian wife to stay home and have the babies and stir the gravy, not some New England Wasp with the arrogance to think her own thoughts!
Well, at least we have Buffalo.

Graffiti

There is something funky going on. Apparently the white trash lovers read my blog.
This morning as I left my house at the un-godly hour of 8:50am (yes, I am in BIG trouble come Sept, when First son needs to catch the bus at 7:30!) - I found, on the fence that runs along my property, graffiti! Some low-life imbecile decided to leave his "tag" on my rotten old stockade fence. Boy am I mad. I dropped First Son off at VBS ( a whole 'nother post), and promptly summoned Suffolk County's finest to the old homestead to survey the damage. They filed a report, assured me that it was good that I called so that if they ever catch this guy they will have more evidence to throw at him, and said they would patrol my area more often. Woo. Hoo.
Honestly, I didn't expect them to do much, but I will not sit silently and let anyone vandalize my property. (well, mine and Washington Mutual's that is)
Hubby came home early and got right out there with the power washer and took the paint right off. The funny thing is, that after he power washed it, that section of fence of course looked much cleaner and newer and nicer than all the other sections alongside it. A conundrum you say? Not for my hubby. Apparently he has been reading my MS Living. He put on his creative thinking cap, and took a handful of mud and re"stained" the fence for us! What, you didn't think he would have power-washed the whole thing did you? LOL. Me neither.
Well, we'll see what happens tomorrow.

Nosy Neighbors

You know that old saying about kissing by the garden gate? "the flowers may be blind, but the neighbors ain't"? Well, guess what? I am the neighbor they speak of! Now, it's not that I am inherently nosy, (well, ok, yes I am), but , let's be reasonable, If you decide to have a full blown, 100 decibel, lover's spat outside my bedroom window at 3Am, you can bet your ass I am going to pull up a chair.

There I was last night enjoying my sweet slumber when I was awoken by some such lover's quarrel. So out of my bed I stumbled and over to the window. There they were in the middle of the street, F-bombs flying. I kneel down, bad back and all and settle in for a show!

He says: "don't hit me! mumble mumble, you know, mumble mumble, my father, mumble"

She says, and no mumbling here, :"I'm tired of this 'don't hit me, my father used to hit me' bullshit - your father didn't f-ck you did he?!"

Me - O MY GOD (silent thought - he didn't did he??) !

Hubby then lifts his head to ask what the heck I am doing -

Me - "shh! go make me some popcorn! "

Seriously the bickering and the pushing and shoving and "I love you so much and you know it, that's why you f-ck with me" and the "all you care about is getting laid" - he said to her!, and the "just take me home and then you can go wherever you want" - it all went on for about 2 hours.

Now, I don't live anywhere near a bar or anything, none of my neighbors were having a party, I don't know how these poor souls came to decide that the street immediately outside my bedroom window would make the perfect venue for their row, but it was quite entertaining, I just wish I could TiVo that kind of drama and watch it at a more convenient time.

Hubby may now expect me to wake up in the middle of the night for other things...

like feeding Paddy boy. But, I have a bad back, you know.

It's terrible to get old...

I can remember when I was little, big people saying "it is terrible to get old", usually in response to some ache or pain they were experiencing. Well, having passed the threshold of 30, and not having any child in my womb at the moment on whom to blame my aches and pains, I whole heartedly concur. It is terrible to get old.

Yesterday as I was going about my business , cleaning and cooking, and mommying, a terrible thing happened. As I bent down to pick up the bucket of Playdoh that the cherubs had been playing with earlier, I heard a "Pop", followed by an awful burning sensation spreading through my lower back. I looked First son in the eyes and said "uh oh". I threw out my back. Next thing you know I am lying face down on the very dirty kitchen floor, writhing in pain. I had just put poor Paddy Boy down on said floor with a spoon and a bowl to bang on, when I got the bright idea to tidy up. Thank goodness we grow them big here on our farm, and First son was able to reach and dial the phone. He called Grandma and said "could you come over? Mommy's on the kitchen floor and she can't get up" Thank goodness too, that MIL is just a block away. She was here in no time to save the day, or at least to save Paddy boy from his own dirty diapers.

After a few minutes and much wincing I was able to pull myself to a semi-erect position. Hubby got me an appointment with a chiropractor and came home from work early. Dr. Back-cracker took his sweet time, but did eventually x-ray my frame. Guess what? I have an extra vertebrate which is fused on my left side to my sacrum, a congenital anomaly, but, not in the least bit related to my pain. This diagnosis was just a door prize. The good Doc decided that I was in way too much pain for a full exam and so treated me with some electric shock therapy and advised lots of ice. He said that if I was 50% better in the morning to come see him again. (I thought you were supposed to go back to the Dr. if you don't feel better, but what do I know).

Today I am walking without having to constantly lean on something or someone, which is a huge improvement. I still can't lift Paddy boy though, which is heartbreaking. MIL was a lifesaver again, as she took the whole brood for the day.

Tomorrow should be better, please God. I am really not good at being an invalid. I stink at letting people do things for me. I can only watch so much daytime TV and IO movies. I am all caught up on my Redbook, MS Living and have been dipping into hubby's Nat'l Geographic (Malaria is baaad!) Curly girl is totally taking advantage because she knows I can't throw her over my shoulder and march her up to her bed, and poor First son is so bored, he wishes he still had preschool!! Please, please, please let me be young again tomorrow!

The Miss is a Mrs!

OK loyal fans, here I am, back in the game. The storm has passed. The niece is now officially Mrs. V, and is currently soaking up the sun and sights in Hawaii, little bitch! LOL. The wedding and all the festivities surrounding it were a huge success! Seriously, the wedding was awesome. All of the details that we worked so hard on really had impact. The cake was gorgeous, the bride was gorgeous, let's just say it, I was gorgeous! The bad rocked - and they even played Guns n' Roses, just for me! How'd they know? The relatives flew in, and flew out. There was singing and dancing and a little bit of imbibing. (just a little) I gave a toast, and though I was quite frightened, I actually caused a few tears, (the good kind, I think) The little cherubs, who everybody always wants to rent out for their wedding because they are so cute, well, let's just say that if I had rented them for this wedding, I would have wanted my money back!! They were of course adorable, but First son had a total meltdown half way down the aisle, and Curly was just so concerned for her brother (I think they might actually share a rib) that she went running off to find him. There are NO pictures of the bridal party with both First son and Curly. By the time we got to pictures the ring bearer was a little better, but the flower girl was too tired. She actually slept for an hour and a half in the bridal suite, with a tablecloth for a blanket!! The nap did her wonders though, as she then danced the night away!
The party or "Par tee" as Miss Suzy Mac would say, went on until the wee hours - literally, the bride didn't go to bed till half past 5AM!!! I myself made it to about 4, but then, I was just lucky to be there among all the youngsters!!
I am both sad and glad at the same time. I am sad that it has all come and gone, but I am also glad that it is finally over! Now I can get my life back for a little! Wait! What am I talking about? Mickey D and the Sunshine girl are getting married in just 10 months and 27 days!!! I gotta get to work!! Weddings are after all a hobby of mine, or so says the hubby!

Hiatus

In order to be fair to the two or three people who regularly read, and or check on my blog, I am officially taking a hiatus. There is so much going on in the next few weeks with the impending nuptials of the niece, that I just can't commit the way I should. I promise however, to have a new post not later than July 17th! Check back! Love ya!

Shake, rattle & roll!

He rolls! Yeah, finally! Tonight, just as I was starting to worry, Paddy boy decided to roll! 6 months, 8 days. What a relief.
His big brother caused me the same anguish. He got to the point where I said "if you don't roll over today, I am calling the Dr. tomorrow!" What do you know? Flip. So tonight was Paddy boy's night! Curly rolled at exactly 3 months. The boys? Not so much. First son did hit every other milestone on the nose or early, and walked younger than his sister (the "rolling over over-achiever"), so there is hope for Paddy Boy. The down-side? He is growing up! Soon he'll be holding his own bottle, and then it is all over, he won't need me anymore!
Also, I managed to get curly girl's hair into a pony tail tonight. It looks more like a puffy bun, but still. She looks so old. And beautiful.
Why don't they just stay little? To quote First son, "you stay little, I am growing up!" - aged 30 months.