Not Wifezilla

Life is but a song

2012-01-29T23:19:00.000-05:00

Monday, Listicle day!

Thankfully Stasha at the Northwest Mommy keeps it coming week to week and this week is no exception.
Bruna of Bees with Honey has selected this week's topic, and I have to say, it's a treat!

“If they were to make a movie of your life what would the soundtrack be like? Share 10 songs that best tell the story of your life. Be sure to include the period or event that each song represents”. I was honestly tempted to make two lists. One completely dedicated to Pearl Jam, and then this list, but I thought that was a little too much. Of course, Pearl Jam is on the list (and the Foo too!).

My Life in Song

1. Steal Away by: Robbie Dupree
"Why don't we steal away. Why don't we steal away into the night?" I sing.
I'm in my favorite bathing suit, singing along to the radio in our backyard, as I attempt to make a whirlpool. I can't be more then four years old, and the plastic walled pool is the place we spend most of those summer days. As I swim the radio blares it's array of '80's ballads. This was my favorite.

2. The Right Stuff, New Kids On the Block

The word "tween" has yet to become part of the lexicon, but that's what I was when I discovered pop music. Tiffany & Debbie Gibson were my girls. I had Electric Youth perfume and my mom got me a crimping iron. My adoration for the two changed that summer I first hear NKOTB. I fell head over heels, and as loving parents, they got me my first concert tickets to a NKOTB/Tiffany show.

For the record: I was a Jonathan fan, mainly because I thought of the five I had the best chance with him.

3. Only the Good Die Young, Billy Joel

I am the good girl.

It's like this song was written about me, down to the bright white dress on my Confirmation.

It took my time in college to break out of that mold and loose a bit of conservative nature.

4. Send me on My Way, Rusted Root

Red cup in hand,

Music blaring,

Bodies dancing,

Party, party, party.

Ahh,

College.

5. Going the Distance, Cake

Finishing a swim, getting my degree, getting a job, getting married, getting a Master's.

The balancing act of my life before children was all about each day, going that distance, getting it done.

6. All I Want is You, U2

The song that should have been our wedding song.

I guess that's what happens when meet the first semester of freshmen year of college, every good love song is about us.

And this one:

Bono belting it out, fabulous lyrics,

and that violin solo....

Absolute Perfection.

7. Just Breathe, Pearl Jam

"Daddy, pick me up and dance with me." she says.

He gathers her up in his arms and sways around the living room. Her giggle infectious as they spin.

Maeve, just a newborn, naps peacefully in my arms. Sitting on the bottom stair, I watch, mesmerized.

"How did we get so lucky?" he asks, pressing Moira's cheek to his own.

"I have no clue" I say. "No clue."

8. My Family, Laurie Berkner Band

What does it say about me to have a kid's singer on my list?
It shows how much things have changed. No longer is my car a car. I rock the minivan. (Jealous?) No longer is the radio mine, Laurie Berkner spins on constant rotation. I'm guessing it's better then Kids Bop.

This song still brings a tear to my eye, especially as my own kids sing along.

"I'm so glad, You're my family!'

Damn straight, Laurie.

9. Times Like These, Foo Fighters

I am a child of rock.

I am trying to raise two little girls who love rock too.

Each day as a parent - an adventure!

time to learn, live, and love.

10. I Will Remember You Sarah McLachlan

When my life is over, and my loved ones come together to say good bye, this song I hear in the background.

As Sarah's voice echoes my own pleas:

Don't let your life pass you by,

Weep not for the memories.

Amen.

Guess, what?

Next week, I have the honor of picking the listicle topic.

This past Friday, my good friend Marilyn passed away after a very brief illness.

The travel bug had bit Mar a number of years ago. Most recently at the end of 2011, she spent some time in Costa Rica. She had honest passion for life: having made it to all seven continents, capturing her travels along the way through her breathtaking photography.

So this week, in Marilyn's honor- I ask dear listicle readers, to disclose where your heart lies.

What are your passions?

For her it was travel, family, photography, the Mets, scubadiving, friends, and a good hard cider.

As you write, I do encourage you to have a beer (or some other libation as she would put it) in her honor.

Thank you Stasha for giving me this pleasure, as it came at the most appropriate time.

Mar

2012-01-27T15:17:00.000-05:00

She was:

sweats,

never pink,

youth XL,

blue winter cap,

black sneakers.

She was:

haircuts at the barber,

a beer at the bar,

an egg salad sandwich from the Butcher Block,

taco lunch in the cafeteria with her own shells.

She was:

handball games on the playground,

"Shutty Uppie",

dancing in gym class,

taking up the end of the line,

being mistaken for one of the kids.

She was

on a plane,

in a boat,

in her bug,

around the world,

under water,

behind the lens.

She was

a devoted wife,

a proud mother,

a doting grandmother,

a fine travel companion,

a kick ass class room & lunch room aide,

and

one helluva friend.

She was

spunk,

fierce,

hysterical,

loving,

and

giving.

She was one of a kind.

God bless you Mar as you dive into the that great big ocean in the sky. You'll be missed.

I think there's no limit at the bar up there, though I do think they do expect you to be on your best behavior which might be hard because we know how much you love a good party!

Winner

2012-01-27T07:36:00.000-05:00

Added to my short list of life accomplishments, Editor's Choice victory on Yeah Write (formerly Love Links).

I'd like to take a minute to thank the Hollywood Foreign Press...
I mean,
Thanks to the Academy.

Okay, really, thanks to Erica of Free Fringes for the love.
As always, interested in new & exciting reads?
Want to vote for them?
Check it out every Thursday at Yeah Write!
If you're a blogger or wanna be blogger, link up too!

I will be working on the real party post this weekend, as the fabulous Ashley Pierce of her namesake Photography just hooked me up with some kick ass pictures.

A Friendly Reminder

2012-01-25T17:44:00.001-05:00

The birthday girl post-chocolate covered pretzel sporting her handmade party hat and I AM 2 shirt

More fun to follow later this week, when I explain in further detail the downward spiral I quickly fell as I do every year as I succumb to my own need to outdo myself with party planning.

I plan to send myself this email around the first of December 2012, when those pangs of decorating start to hit for Maeve's third birthday party.

Dearest Jackie 2013,

Hello love!
Here I am, typing on Wednesday, still in recovery from the overkill that was Maeve's Second Birthday party this past Sunday. As the streamers still hang and the cupcakes are slowly being devoured, I just wanted to offer you a friendly reminder:

You are not Martha Stewart
even though Pinterest gives you the confidence boost to make you think you are.

It's okay.
Maeve and Moira will not be scarred if you lessen up on the party planning crap. Your friends and family will still love you even if there is a lack of homemade *gasp* lemon squares and only limited decorations. You can actually enjoy the time before the big day, with cuddles and time playing with the girls.

Enjoy your time, don't fret over it.

Who the hell am I kidding?

Good luck in 2013, biatch!
This party rocked and you know it!
You're going to need a lot of luck to out-do yourself for 2013, so I assume you've been pinning and researching! You get an extra day this year since it's a leap year, so no excuses.

Enjoying the after glow,
Jackie 2012

Just for the record, I do not think myself Martha, Kate Landers or any of those chicks who plan the out of this world birthday parties on Lifetime or Bravo.
I'm just a stay at home mom with too much time on my hands...at least that's what Bryan tells me.

Love links is now "Yeah, Write!"

Once in My Life

2012-01-23T09:02:00.000-05:00

Monday.

I am in recovery mode today, as we spent yesterday partying it up for Maevie baby! As the girls play with the plethora of new toys, I have a moment to sit back and write feverishly until one or both start beating the shit out of each other over bongos or a puppy guitar. (Because that's how they roll here. Why hit with your hands, when a drumstick or plastic guitar could cause more damage?)

When I read this week's prompt, I figured many following will go global. Ally from Two normal moms said we should write a list about “10 things you’d like to see happen before you die” and really how can I not want a cure for AIDS, clean water for all, and such?

6 Things I'd Like to See Happen Before I Die

1. Politicians who actually do what they promise.

2. Children not having to go without: food, health care, shelter & love.

3. Clean water and access for those in areas where sources have been depleted.

4. Cures for AIDS, Cancer, and other lethal diseases, with a reasonably priced tab.

5. True equality for all.

6. The Eagles winning the Super Bowl.

But I'm also going to be a bit selfish.

I'm turning this one into a bucket list of sorts.

6 Things I'd like to see, hear, smell, taste, or feel before I die.

1. Publish Something

I think this is the wish of many of us bloggers. To create a piece that is worth publication and circulation, and found in a library. I'd love to write either a series of vignettes or dare I say, a young adult novel? I have quite a few ideas running around my head that I feel are "story worthy", if only I could sit down and write.

2. Compete (and complete) in an ocean swim

Source: pinterest

I have had a crazy fear of swimming in the ocean growing up. Bryan has helped alleviate most of this fear, but deep down I would love to finish an ocean race.

No, I'm not swimming across the English channel or anything crazy like that. Just a simple open water swim down the shore.

3. Attend the Summer Olympics

Yes, I'm biased.
I prefer the Summer games:
Swimming, Track, Soccer, Gymnastics, Basketball, Diving.
Watching any of these events in person and attending the medal ceremony after, is but a dream.

4. Dine at the French Laundry

Source

This is the French Laundry, a world renowned restaurant in Yountville Ca.
Everyday they offer two distinct nine-course (yes 9!) tasting menus using the freshest produce and proteins.
Just might be the closest thing to heaven on earth and I want to eat here, with Bry of course.

5. Sport a Pixie cut

First, I need to lose a little of the face fat, but this cut is something I'd love to be brave enough to sport. The ease in the morning, the air on the back of my neck. Sigh....

6. Witness my Children find their Success

Yes, they're a bit wacky, but I do love 'em!

I'm leaving this one fairly broad, as I don't know what or how success will be determined for them. Could it be following a passion, completing a degree(s), or having a family of their own?

I don't know.

But, I want to be here for it.

I want to be around to see them get their own happily ever after.

Two

2012-01-20T08:21:00.000-05:00

Happy Second Birthday to my Maevie Baby!

My Sunshine

Linking up with :

Hazard Zet Forward

2012-01-18T09:14:00.003-05:00

Rolling over, I open one eye.

5:44

One minute before my alarm, as usual.

Taking a deep breath, I push the floral comforter off my body and pour myself out of bed. Clicking the alarm off, my roommate sleeps peacefully. Onto the floor I fall, a large yawn overtakes my body, as I quickly pull on my sweats. The big blue parka hangs off my desk chair. Offering warmth, I quickly cuddle inside as I zip it up. I slip on my sneakers, grab my wallet & key and head out the door. Throwing on my hood as I step out the door.

Rounding the corner, I notice fire trucks lining the drive. A usual fixture at school as the freshman dorm is notorious for fire drills at all hours of the day and night. I have little hesitation as I walk in to the pool deck.

The blue parkas file in behind, crossing the pool deck and descending the stairs to the locker room.
Emerging minutes before 6:00, we all dress alike, bathing suit, cap, and goggles.

I notice a few freshmen missing, and attribute it to faulty alarm clocks. They'll have to make up the yardage later, I think.

Into the water we jump, the first of a double for the day.

It has been about twenty minutes when I notice between breaths, figures walking on deck. The big parka easily recognizable.

My feet touch the ground as the water calms around me.

I can only hear bits of her conversation:

Fire...
Dorm...
Fire Department...
Shock.

Leaving the rec center, I set across campus. I pull the blue parka tight against the January morning winds as I exit the side door. The whirling sound hits me first. Looking up, two helicopters circle the area. I walk with a purpose across the sidewalk, as a stream of ambulance and firetrucks line the drive.

I am only thinking that I need to find my teammates.

I enter the cafeteria to a sea of faces.

Someone has turned the televisions on to the local news stations.

The image shows the devastation a few feet away. Groups are huddle together, as I make my way through.

Then I see what I need,

two big blue parkas.

My girls are fine.

It is through them, I hear the horror of what is happening, as they live a floor below.

We focus our glance to the television as the newscaster reports. At the bottom of the screen a ticker emerges, "fatalities presumed" crawls across the screen.

An audible gasp fills the room as I feel the tears in my eyes.

Things will never be the same.

The ribbon is a symbol that we remember those lost and share a sense of hope with all those who continue to heal. Ribbons are worn each year on campus and around the country by alumni who remember.
We remember January 19, 2000.

Hazard Zet Forward my friends.

translated: At whatever risk, yet go forward

I'll Never...

2012-01-16T08:52:00.002-05:00

I first need to offer apologies for my recent absence. It's party planning time in our house, as Maeve hits the big 0-2 this Friday. As is my usual self, I am throwing all my time and energy into crafting, baking, shopping, and acting like the wanna be Martha Stewart I always wished I could be.
I will take a much needed pause, however to partake in my favorite weekly prompt- Monday Listicles hosted by the fabulous Stasha. This week Greta suggested we confess ten things we said we would NEVER do but caught ourselves doing it. I imagine all the parents that read this have a list the size of Texas filling their heads, because there are so many of these.

As I often say, I knew everything about parenthood
then I had children.

1. Scream the first, middle, & last name of my child through the house

Really, if we think about it, how silly is this one? When the kid's good, it's all lovey dovey nicknames, and pet names, but the minute the kid turns into a holy terror- Formality!!! I always hated my mother yelling Jacqueline Ann, and swore I'd never use that.

2. Use The Santa Card

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

It's July,

the kids are bat shit crazy.

I swear it's a full moon and they haven't napped.

What do I utter?
"You know girls, Santa is ALWAYS watching."

Cha-Ching! Most days it works like magic.

I never thought I'd try to manipulate my kids with the big guy in red, but when it works, it works!

Only to be topped by my use of the Santa card is Bry, who has made it clear to Mo that all parents are given direct phone lines to Santa to relay information when children are misbehaving so Santa can take back Christmas presents.

Apparently not only does Mr. Claus accept phone calls, but texts and emails too.

3. Discuss my children's bodily fluids

I never thought, outside a doctor's office, would I spend any amount of time discussing any substance which exited their body- be it phlegm, vomit, or waste. Now, it's standard in my circle of friends and family.

Just yesterday, I amazed Bry as he was making dinner recalling the amount of poo Maeve managed to contain in one diaper!

Epic Proportions, I tell you!!

4. Discuss my OWN bodily fluids

Change #3 to include my own phlegm, vomit, waste and add my monthly visitor and you got some interesting conversation I never thought I'd be discussing.

5. Have friends where items #3 & 4 were acceptable as conversation topics.

Thank you Danielle, Ash, Lynsay, Jeanna, & all my nesties!

6. Let my kid use a pacifier

There are some moms that absolutely love the act of breastfeeding.

I was not one of them.

I had more then ample supply and it was relatively easy for me & them.

However, I had no inclination to allow my nipples to become their twenty four hour a day vessel sucking. So, in the hospital (GASP!) I introduced the pacifier.

No nipple confusion.
No supply issues.

Happy baby, & happy mommy!

7. Use the bathroom with the door open

Standard operating procedure to yell, fix a toy, read book, kiss a boo-boo all while sitting on the pot.

8. TV

I had grand illusions when I was pregnant, that I would rarely have the television on. We'd be too busy playing together. Then I had a kid and it was on a bit. Mainly to help keep my from losing my mind. Then with kid 2, TV became my ally, my friend, my babysitter.

I'll admit, it's on a lot, mainly on Nick Jr. Their vernacular often includes references to Max & Ruby, Kai-Lan, Kiki, Twist, Shout, & Marina. While I'm eating crow on this point, I do know for a fact Fresh Beat Band does give me 22 minutes of uninterrupted peace and quiet, and I'll take it!

9.Miss my career

I had thought when I left teaching that the throws of motherhood would be blissful and any feelings of loss would be swallowed up in my day to day. But I would be lying, if I did not admit there were moments where i missed it.

I loved teaching and hope someday to return back to the classroom if the opportunity (and Gov. Christie) allow me.

10. Drive a minivan

Don't be jealous! I love my minivan as I wrote In Defense of Our Minivan.

Truth Hurts

2012-01-11T08:58:00.002-05:00

We are the cookie bakers of the night. she sang.

Laurie Berkner band DVD, my choice babysitter giving me twenty five minutes of peace and relative quiet every morning. The girls be bop around dancing and singing while I let the hot water overtake me.

Solace.

Stepping out of the shower, I hear the familiar voices echoing through the second floor, and know I have two songs left until their attention will break. Grabbing the towel, I dry off and wrap my heir atop my head. Putting on my underwear and bra, I apply lotion to my face, SPF 8 infused everyday.

As I begin combing out my hair, Maeve jumps through the open door.

"Hi Mom, Hi Mom, Hi MOM!!" she screams.
Her voice reaching a crescendo, in anticipation of my response.

"Hello baby" I offer, kissing the top of her head.

"Bye mom!" she waves, returning to Laurie.

I continue combing my hair when Mo enters.

"What's up?" I ask, as her eyes focus on my scantily clad body.

Pointing to my abdomen, she laughs, "Ha, you got a chubby belly mommy!"

No.
She.
Didn't!

My three and half year old just called me chubby!

I laugh her off as I shoo her out of the bathroom. Taking in the observation my child disclosed first hand. I look at myself, really look at my nearly naked self and I admit it.

She's right.

I am flabby in the middle.
and parts of the upper and lower too!

While I am quick to blame it on two c-sections in less then two years, the real reason for my "chubby belly" is too much ice cream and not enough vegetables, too much sloth and not enough exercise.

All together, I'd say, it's been nearly four years of too much of the bad stuff and not enough of the good.

And that needs to change.

I'm not really happy with the way my clothes fit me right now and I have no one to blame but myself. While Mo's comment hit a nerve, she is right. I HAVE a chubby belly and now I'm starting to do something about it.

On Sunday we joined the local YMCA and today, I intend to get back on the elliptical, chubby belly and all.

I have motivation now, something that has been missing.

Besides my sister's wedding in August, Mo is offering support. We have developed a game of sorts.

She keeps asking, "Mommy when we go to the Y so you can exercise?"

I ask, "Why do I need to go to the Y, Mo?"

Her response: ""Cause your chubby mommy!"

Yes, Mo, I am, and hopefully over the next few months, I'll be less chubby thanks to your motivation

Linking up this week the fun at Lovelinks & Things I Can't Say.

Got a Job

2012-01-09T16:34:00.000-05:00

It's Monday- Listicle day! This week is quite a different topic if I do say so myself. Top Ten Strange (odd/unusual/funny/interesting) Jobs you have held in your life courtesy of Varda at the Squashed Bologna

She did give the disclaimer: And if you are young or have had a much less varied life than I have and haven't had 10 jobs yet, then make it 10 interesting things you have done / tasks you have been responsible for as PART of a job. And I am totally willing to define "Job" loosely here... as in parenting is clearly a job, and so is being a student, or volunteer positions including things like PTA President.
Thus leaving me to think back into the far depths of my mind, trying to remember what "jobs" I have held. I decided to tackle this chronologically, and it has been a trip down memory lane indeed.

1. Eraser Smacker
I went to Catholic school from Kindergarten through fourth grade. I actually wrote about my attempt to save time in the morning with my uniform , but in reality I was a good girl, a really good girl in school. Smart and studious, often I finished my seat work prior to most of the others and usually completed it with little error. My desk was typically kept orderly and I never was reprimanded for talking out of turn or for being disrespectful. As a reward, on Friday afternoon, while the rest of the class would clean their desks, I (and a friend) would get to go outside with the collection of dusty erasers and bang them together.
Pure bliss!

2.Babysitter
Living in suburbia in a development filled with families gave my mother ample opportunity to pimp my sister and I out as daycare providers. Quite a number of my new year's were spent in someone else's homes listening to their children sleep and many weekend evenings were spent cuddled on someone else's couch again waiting. While my babysitting days were limited, my sister continued through college being that "dependable, reliable source".

3. Swim Instructor
Imagine that?
I swam competitively. Spent the majority of my adolescent years in or around a swimming pool, thus the logical step would be to teach swimming. From 13 years when I began volunteering to my early 20's, I spent hours blowing bubbles, coaxing crying children, and freezing after hours in tepid water. From infants to adults, I taught them all and frankly I was darn good at it!

4. Life Guard
I feel I must start with the position that there is a clear distinction between lifeguard and swim instructor, especially at a suburban YMCA outdoor pool.
Baywatch, it was not.
Besides the lack of hot guys running on the beach and thankfully the inappropriate swim suits, most of the guards were stoned out college kids playing sober every morning while they vacuumed the pool and cleaned out the bathrooms. Sure, they blew their whistles every now and then, but for the most part it was about the social life after hours, of which I was not really interested. '
I did get a pretty kick ass tan though those years.

5. Teacher's Assistant
My first summer after college, a family friend helped me get a job in the field of education.
Eagerly, I started at a reform school for boys.
Yup, me at the ripe old age of 18 was working as a teacher's assistant in a class of boys committed for a variety of offenses such a repeated truancy, drugs and theft, while a few were placed for lack of foster families.
I was significantly out of my comfort zone.
However, that opportunity of working with a well seasoned nun in that environment led me to learn a lot.

6. Student Senator: College of Education
Bryan was very involved with our college's student government. First as a member of the Student Senate and later he was elected Student Government president. I base much of his victory on my pull with the student athlete population.
I dabbled a bit too in the political arena, mainly due to apathy.
My junior year Bry came to me asking if I would be interested in applying for an open seat on the Senate representing the school of Education. I applied, and was appointed.
What did I do?
Not much, I must admit.
It did look pretty good on my professional resume.

7. Alcoholic Awareness Panel Member
My freshmen year of college, there were some concerns among my swim team with body imagine and eating disorders. In response, we were forced to meet with counseling services individually and as a group to ensure we were all on the straight and narrow. It was during this time I met Shirley, one of the counselors.
My senior year, as part of a grant, she was facilitating a project in which college students would go to high school health classes to discuss the realities of alcohol on a college campus. As a panel member, I would offer my own experience and exchange get paid for it. There weren't many money making opporuntities for myself during college due to my schedule between swim practice, student teaching and classes, so those extra bucks were quite welcome.

8.Kindergarten Teacher
Almost the antithesis of item #5, I spent four years in the Kindergarten classroom. First as a self-contained Kindergarten teacher and then two years of bliss as a Kindergarten teacher.
There truly is nothing like that job, nothing.
Teacher, mama, police officer, artisan, librarian, nurse, singer, dancer, comedian, poet, actress, the list of job descriptors could go on and on.

9. First Grade Teacher
The spring of 2005, the principal of my building confirmed I was moving to first grade. I was terrified.
I am not exaggerating when I say that I had greater trepidation about teaching first grade then my nuptials, which were held in October of that year. The enormity in my eyes laid in my belief that first grade was the core foundation for the rest of ones education. Kindergarten was a relative playground compared to first grade, where expectations were high for formal introduction to:
Reading!
Writing!
Mathematical thinking!
My fear easily gave way to adoration of the grade I feel I was born to teach. To this day, the greatest sense of accomplishment I have had outside my own family, has been directly related to my time in the first grade classroom.

10. Mother
What other job could take this cake?
The job I hold now is filled with diaper blow-outs, sloppy kisses, and random ukulele serenades. I have my fill of goldfish crackers, apple juice and grilled cheese sandwiches. No day is ever the same and I couldn't imagine myself anywhere else right now...

except maybe here

Someday
St. Barths
Someday we will meet again

Join in!

Shop Til You Drop

2012-01-07T08:10:00.001-05:00

The car pulls up to the front of the building. With it's high staircase, and grey facade, I can't help but think funeral home; not the first image one wishes to associate with a bridal store.
Remembering what Colleen had instructed, I attempt to push that image out of my mind as we slowly exit the car.

This is her first time.

A Friday night wedding at the end of August, her wedding planning is in its infantile stage. A checklist of "to- do's" still quite long.
Flowers, D.J., Rings, Invitations can all be done at her leisure.

But not this.

The fear and anticipation of the event lies naked on her face.

She is not the girly type.

Rarely wearing make up, cleavage and heels are not part of her vernacular. Instead, she is sensible shoes and button downs. Weekends, rarely dresses to the nines, instead hoodies and jeans. Her hair, with curls many spend hours recreating, usually pulled securely in a ponytail.

This is not typical Jeanna.

She hates shopping.

We know this.

Prior to picking her up, my mother, sister in law and I had the chance to talk. Anticipating the worst scenarios, laughter filled the confines of the car, at the expense of our bride to be. Her shopping history horrors gave us ammunition for our hesitations. Unfortunately, our expectations are low, very low for success this first trip.

Ascending the steep stairs, she walks first. Opening the large door, the crimson rug overtakes our senses as we enter.

Don't judge the appearance.

Colleen's voice resonant through my head, as my sister introduces herself to the two consultants.

The show room is shaped like the letter L, its perimeter a sea of white and clear plastic. Dresses line the walls, as posters of designers hang above. At the consultants insistence, we search. Holding up dresses a chorus emerges:

Too frilly.
Too shiny.
Not Jeanna.
Too much glitter.
Too lacy.
Too much.
No way!

Managing to find acceptable dresses, the pile grows large. The consultant asks Jeanna to the dressing room.

Jeanna looks to us.

Her eyes widen as her mouth downturns. On her chest, hives have created a red polka dot pattern.

Anxiety rears its ugly head.

"I am so not looking forward to this." she begins.

"You'll be fine," we coax. Our words usher her into the dressing room.

Slowly, with the first dress, a safe, predictable design, her first image as a bride emerges.

"I actually like it!" she says. A smile stretches across her face, as the consultant pulls the dress taught.

In agreement, we nod and offer supportive words, as she looks at her reflection. With each smile, a portion of her hesitation lifts.

Closing the door to try on another, she has changed. It is then, we agree it's a perfectly fine dress.

Fine, not a descriptor one should use for a wedding gown.

As the appointment progresses, the hives and the anxiety become distant memories as we watch, as my sister begins to enjoy herself shopping. Sporting various silhouettes and styles, shapes and fabrics, confidence and laughter overtake the room.

And then, like magic, it happens,

Twice!

Two dresses that look phenomenal and beautiful. They are very different and will set the stage for the night the moment she hits the aisle. On top of that she actually adores both.

While I would love to disclose the details or even pictures, I will not. Mainly since I prefer to keep all my appendages! I will say, for those that know her in real life, with either design she will leave her audience floored...in a good way because they are so not Jeanna.

While she did not say yes to either dress that appointment, she left with a little spring in her step. The rest of our party was able to breathe a little easier as such low expectations left us all pleasantly surprised.

Today, we try store number two. Moira has asked to come today, and this time, I can safely say, I look forward to dress shopping.

A Little Math

2012-01-04T11:29:00.002-05:00

Double Ear Infection + Double Pink Eye = One Contagious Maeve

One Contagious Maeve + No School For Moira = Home Confinement

Home Confinement + Waking Hours = Movies + Playdough + Pajamas

Man Cold + Bryan - Sleep = Sick Day
Bryan's Sick Day + Home Confinement + 2 Girls = X
X = undefined

Wine?
Ice Cream?
Cake?
Gin?
All?

New Year, New Me?

2012-01-02T09:09:00.001-05:00

First post of 2012, and how fitting I begin with what has become a great motivator this past year, Monday Listicles! This week, Theresa of Mountain Momma suggested we write of New Year's resolutions we intend to break.
That would be too easy. I could make some grand sweeping promises to myself, like loose a bunch of weight or try to train for a marathon, and with the imminent failure, find myself wallowing in guilt, Ben & Jerry's and cookies.

Instead, I will list my intentions for 2012.

Things I honestly Plan to Do this Year...

Honestly!

1. Continue to write.

This blog has been made a priority for me, by me. It's my hobby, my enjoyment, and my closest thing to therapy. While I don't yet consider myself a "writer", the title of "blogger" fits me fine.

2. Get my girls swimming independently.

I need to enroll them in swim lessons, ASAP! We do a lot where water is involved (beach, Sesame Place, pools) and I can't have a four year old climbing all over me in fear. So this year, no more procrastination of the travel to the closest YMCA (11 miles),

they will learn how to swim!

3. Make more time for Bry & I

My girls are my world and on most days, that's perfectly fine and dandy.

But, there needs to be more time for he & I alone.

Conversation isn't overrated, and that not interrupted with "Mommy, ketchup?" and "Daddy, look at this noodle!" would be fabulous.

4. Learn how to roast a chicken.

I mess it up every.single.time.

How I can make homemade chicken & dumplings, banana bread, piergoies, and quiche, but continue to screw up chicken completely and utter confuses me.

This year, I will master the bird.

5. Do some of those crafts I have pinned on Pinterest.

Here's my Board.

Filled with inspiration, yes?

I have done one, yes 1, project thus far.

I will do more, maybe two?

Dare I say, FOUR projects this year inspired by my Pinterest pins.

6. Decorate our house

We have been in our home for nearly three years and still many of the walls are empty. I confess, we have frames, even some filled with photos and prints, but yet they have made it up on the wall.

I am slightly terrified of our plaster walls and the potential for things tearing/breaking, but sometimes beauty hurts, right?

7. Dress nicer

I feel like I look like slob most days. Thankfully with a shorter hair cut that requires only a little blow dry with a round brush in the morning, I look a little more put together. But, I need to do more for me in the attire department. I'm not saying a whole new wardrobe, but perhaps a little more variety.

8. Use the Playroom

With the addition of the drum kit in our playroom, I think this space will be a more desirable place for the kiddos. In turn, I need to make it more desirable for me. Kids could care less of organization, but for me, it's a necessity. So this year, I'll be making that place a place I want to be in as much as they do.

9. Get my sister hitched, and keep my sanity!

My sister is engaged and planning an August wedding.

I am her matron of honor.

There's about 8 months to go until the big day, and I know there's a infinite number of phone calls, emails and conversations to be hand between now & then related to said wedding.

Give me patience, please!

While we're on the pinterest topic, check out my wedding planning boards for her. Here & Here.

10. Enjoy it!

Somehow my kids are growing way too fast.
I cannot believe we will be celebrating Maeve's second birthday in a few weeks, and Mo is already talking incessantly about her Pirate themed fourth birthday bash for April.

Life is going on, and on, and it's my choice how I respond to it.
Do I sit passively watching it fly by, or do I jump in, and live it up?

I'm trying to do more the latter this year.

Trying to live a more full, happy, and joyful life in 2012.

Time to sweat the small stuff, and let things roll off my back.

Source: yourlifeyourway.net via Jackie on Pinterest

12 in 11- The Photo Edition

2011-12-30T07:59:00.002-05:00

As I scour the photos I have accumulated this year, I cannot believe all we have accomplished, all we have experienced.

This year has truly been remarkable.

I realized a few things:

1. My photography skills leave much to be desired.

2. I have taken a ridiculous amount of pictures this year.

3. I rarely, if ever, am captured on film.

4. I really do have a pretty good looking family.

5. Wow, we did a lot!

Not soon before Maeve's first birthday, I had the quiet realization that the girls actually started playing together.
Their first tea party in our playroom, captured in January

On her first birthday, I had grand hopes of a cake smash of epic proportions with the hand made snowman cake. Instead, it turned into the emotional meltdown of epic proportions!
Poor Maevie baby, but it was a Happy first birthday!

We were reunited with Bryan's brother Casey this January as he visited from abroad, meeting our girls for the very first time. This visit also afforded us the opportunity to meet his lovely wife and son.
Most memorable, indeed!

Moira vs. the Potty
Someday she'll hate me for this photo
Thankfully, diapers went bye-bye around someone's third birthday!

My..I mean Moira's Somewhere Over the Rainbow celebration

Fresh Beat Band at Sesame Place
Front Row
Major parent points for Bry & I on this one!

Our first beach trip of the season
Maeve hated the beach

By the end of the summer, I had to fight to get them to come in.
My two little beach bunnies!

Where did the time go?
This September at the ripe old age of 3, Moira started preschool.

Halloween 2011
Reusing that Dorothy costume from her birthday, I had fun with tulle to transform Maeve into Glinda.

After a summer of anticipation, Moira finally was able to play Tot Soccer. With Bry as the coach, we braved the field early each Saturday morning. Looks like the start of something beautiful, my girls & sports!

Holiday hugs & Giggles

Linking up with My Front Porch Swing & Four Plus Angel's 12 in 12 photos or words

12 in 11- The Written Edition

2011-12-29T14:05:00.003-05:00

1.) This year in blog posts…choose a favorite post from each month of 2011 and share.

This year was filled with a lot of ups and few downs, but overall an amazing year.

January

This new year began with Maeve celebrating her first birthday with me doing my best Martha. O~~ver~~planning. her Winter "One"derland party with tons of red, aqua, and white, became my obsession during the start of 2011. Besides the pin the nose on the snowman, activities were relatively laid back. Our guestlist was tiny, however having our relatives from Taiwan present made it that much more memorable.

Maeve and her cousin Blaise

February

During February, in the post entitled Bathroom Bully I lamented on my epic failure with potty training. I shared my fear that I would be changing Moira's diapers during Kindergarten.
Fun times, fun times!

No doubt, running away from the potty!

March

My grandmother's collection of blue glass inspired the post Blue Glass & Ivory Soap.

April

While Moira's birthday party took centerstage the beginning of the month, our long, long, long trip to Target best exemplified were I was in parenthood during April.

How many Mo?

May
This year, I really believe I have discovered my voice as a writer. In a prompt from the site formally known as the Red Dress Club now Write on Edge, I discussed my defintion of Pride here, cellulite and all for the world to embrace!

One of the few photos of me taken this year.

June
In one of my most favorite posts ever, I discussed grocery shopping and the car cart. In Stalker, I complained of those who misuse my secret weapon for successful grocery shopping trips and praised that regardless of their rather bulky size, they still are a necessity for me.

July
With the loss of my father in law, I took a moment to remember Buddy.

August

In a rut, Days Like These had me writing of the nearly suffocating heat as we headed for yet another trip to my parents for refuge in the air conditioning. I had had about enough, when it was Moira who made me stop for a moment and take in the little things.

My Beach Baby enjoyed the heatwaves

September

With School Days, the momentous occasion of her first first day of school was shared. With smiles and a new red backpack with soccer ball, she was set. Everyday has been a blast since!

October

I seriously contemplated giving up stay at home mom status for a job back in the classroom. With Back to Work? I debated my choice, and ultimately chose to put off the transition for the future.

November
In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I got a little creative and Thanksgiving Prose was the final outcome.

Maeve had a clear opinion on Mommy's blogging this year!

December

Finally, as the year came to a close, instead of sharing news of my pregnancy, I wrote of my loss in Not The Way I had Planned. .

As not to end on a sad note, I think A December to Remember, Ha! gave me a chance to be light and happy again.

See ya later 2011!

I realize technically I have chosen more then 12 posts for this year, however, I think with any missing, it would not have been a true representation of what 2011 had done for me. It was one helluva year!

Bring on 2012, I've got the champagne on ice already!

Linking up with Mama Kat & Natalie of Mommy of a Monster

The Gift

2011-12-28T07:30:00.001-05:00

This year for Christmas, I was inspired to attempt some crafty gifts for those most dear. With the addition of a new ceramic store in our downtown and a Group On discount code, it was meant to be. Meeting up with our dear friends A & M and their Mama, D collectively we two mamas managed our foursome in a room filled with fragile breakables and bottles of paint. The were no causalities, however M, D's 20 month old son, did manage to taste some green paint.

Mo working hard on her mitten for Grammy with the bracelets

Maeve showing her non-painted tongue

Maeve went out of her way to select the perfect gift for Bry. Her painting skills are on par for those in the under two set, and her attention to detail leaves something to be desired, however I can think of nothing more perfect for her father's desk at work.

When I think of it, there should be no surprise that Maeve chose Cookie Monster, especially after seeing her on Christmas day with her new favorite toy.

Linking up for the first time with Germaine of Kiddothings

The Letter

2011-12-27T16:38:00.000-05:00

Wrapping paper pieces covered the floor, as the last of the boxes was opened. Maeve held the stuffed Cookie Monster securely under her arm, as she paraded around the living room, while Moira walked over to her father's embrace.
"Did you get everything you had hoped for." I asked. Her blues eye met mine, and without hesitation she began.,
"Santa didn't bring me the accordion or the drum kit. He didn't get me the *twister too."
*turntable, microphone, & headphones that a DJ would use
"Were you naughty?" Bryan asks.
She is adamant, "I was more nice then naughty this year. I promise!"

This year, at three and half years Moira "got" it. She understood the idea of naughty and nice, and after a few conversations, she respectfully created a wish list of only three items. The list would occasional change as friends and family would ask, but when sitting on the big man's lap, she asked for the drum kit, an accordion, and a twister set. From that day on, those were her three things. She understood that Santa would most likely only be able to get her one, but she understood. There were many children who wanted gifts and she did not need to be greedy.

And here it was, Christmas morning and under the tree there was no accordian. There was no twister, or drum kit.

She could not hide her disappointment.

I knew how to cheer her up.
"Remember last night when we got home from Mom mom's house late?" I asked.
"Yes". she nodded.
"Well, because it was so late you and Maevie didn't get a chance to put out cookies and milk for Santa".
Her gasp filled the room.
"Don't worry" I said, "Daddy took care of it. He put out a few cookies and milk, and a carrot I think? Why don't you go check it out."

She scurried across the room, to the dining room table. Maeve at her heels, unaware of the mood instead interested in chasing her sister.

"There's a letter! There's a letter!" she screamed. "Can you read it Daddy? Can you? Can you?"

Her mood had lifted, as a note from Santa found it's way into Bryan's hand.
In a loud voice he read,

At breakneck speed, she ascended the stairs, leaving the rest of us in her dust.

Up the stairway

Do you see the plaid pajamas through the rail?

Grabbing Maeve and placing her on my hip, we followed.
"Slow down!" I yelled. "Daddy needs to check it out before you go in!'
With camera in hand, he captured that moment.
The one she had been waiting for since she first asked.

Little Girl and her red drum kit

Of course, her sister had to have a turn as well.

As we returned to the kitchen an hour or so later, I casually asked Mo what she thought about Christmas this year.
"Mommy" she said, "This was the best Christmas ever!" as she threw her arms around my waist, hugging me tightly.

I agree Moira. I agree.

My Favorite Day of the Year

2011-12-23T08:48:00.000-05:00

"This is my most favorite day of the year" she boasted, descending the stairs a little bit lighter then usual.
It was December 23, or in our house the day we referred to as "Christmas Eve Eve", and every year my mother would talk of this day as her most favorite of the year. She would share the phrase in a sea of teenage eye rolls and smart ass remarks.

On and on, she would go.

"The excitement" she would say, "the anticipation all leading up to Christmas Eve and Christmas day. It would all be over too soon, but today, pure anticipation".

The last minute frenzy of wrapping and baking could not damper the spirit of she who was ready to celebrate. That combined with the excitement in a house filled with three children, made today the high point of the season in her eyes.

But as a kid, I didn't get it.

Why would she say today was her favorite?

The anticipation of a day?

Seriously, mom?

I remember thinking from my adolescent eyes it was all about Christmas Eve, with the overfilled mass at our Church and then meeting at my Mom mom's for dinner and presents. Oh yeah, the presents!, The only day to upstage Christmas Eve, besides my birthday was the madness of Christmas morning. Even as an teen, we still woke rather early to unwrap presents from a Santa we had long since stopped believing in after getting our yearly photograph on the stairs. Gift cards! Clothes! Money!

Why December 23, mom?

Why?

Sometime in the space between college and adulthood, it dawned on me and I got it. Only to be strengthened more with the birth of my own children.

Today is the best day of the year for all those reasons my mom had listed and so much more.

I hear it as my children whisper of the arrival of Santa down the chimney with wide eyes and firm belief.

I taste it after nibbling on a few cookies as dozen upon dozen more rotate their way through the oven.

I smell it, with each step into our living room, the Christmas tree's scent overtaking the room.

I see it with every light which seems to shine a little brighter each day closer to Christmas.

And finally I feel it with each giggle filled embrace.

Those feelings: anticipation, excitement, and joy are reaching a fever pitch today,
December 23.

Now my most favorite day of the year too.

Thanks Mom.

A December to Remember? Ha!

2011-12-21T08:55:00.001-05:00

During the holidays, many of the commericals seem to pull at the heartstrings a bit, leaving the viewer with a smug little smile on their face. There are the commericals with talking M&M's meeting Santa, big horses pulling beer trucks, and of course, the Hershey kiss commerical where the candy ring like bells.
I find myself tolerating commericals this time of year, to the point I often do not fast forward when I have DVR'd a show.

There are exceptions however to this holiday rule:

The luxury car commerical.

Specifically I find the Lexus December to Remember promotion the greatest violator my holiday cheer.

Why would I allow such a commerical to get under my skin?

Because I'm a stay at home mom on a budget and that's never going to happen.

That's the short answer.

The long answer goes something like this.

Strap in, it's a long ride!

Once upon a time, I worked.

I was a teacher in a fairly suburban and upper middle class school district where I made a relatively decent salary. My paycheck combined with Bry's let us live a rather comfortable lifestyle for two under thirty somethings. Lots of dinners out, weekend overnights to the city with friends, and a rather carefree view on spending. For the holidays, I would spend frivolously on my loved ones without much thought of budget, with the biggest purchases reserved for Bryan.

No, I didn't get him a Lexus, or even a TAG Heuer watch which he desired. I did however have the ability to buy what I wanted using my own cash, thus leaving a relatively untraceable trail of shopping expenditures.

The element of surprise was on my side on Christmas morning when he unwrapped gifts from a variety of stores and price points.

As his personal Santa, I'd like to think I did fairly well, except of course for the year of the pocket watch.

We all make mistakes.

With the addition of Moira and subtraction of my salary, I had to readdress my holiday shopping style. No longer could I just shop. Words like budget and responsibility became part of our combined lexicon, and I looked for sales and other incentives to keep the prices down.

For other family and friends' gifts, I made these concessions easily.

However, for Bryan, it was harder.

No longer did I have "my own" money. There would be no extravagant spending, as I had no money set aside for extravagance.

How could I, with no job or paycheck?

Besides this, Bry balances our books. This means with every expenditure, I must procure a receipt with exact totals. I do believe he would notice a few hundred bucks missing from the account, or frankly I cringe at the thought of him seeing how much I hypothetically spent on gifts for him.

So that's where my disdain for those Lexus commericals is rooted.

I can't frankly surprise my husband with a Lexus or pretty much anything with a relatively high price tag because he's the one with the money and the one that does the books.

I wish I could lavish my husband with the gifts I feel he deserves: the new extra large TV he's been drooling over, the awesome stand from Restoration Hardware, and that TAG Heuer watch he's longed for for years. But that's just not going to happen.

Instead, this Christmas, there will be gifts under the tree for Bry, however none will have the price tag even a sliver of which comparable to a Lexus. There will be something chosen by Mo and handmade from Maeve, and frankly that's about it.

I know he'll still be merry this Christmas with these gifts, however the thought of how much merrier he could be sporting that TAG makes me nostalgic for those past holidays, or at least that paycheck!

I should mention even if money was no object, I would never buy him a car, because frankly I don't see that as a feasible gift for anyone, even if it's a Lexus SUV.

It's Wednesday, so I'm linking up with the fabulous Shell over at Things I Can't Say.

Inside the Blogger's Studio

2011-12-19T08:26:00.001-05:00

It's Monday, Listicle day! One of the fun days of my blogging week. Bridget over at Twinisms suggested this week's prompt. Taken directly from Inside the Actor's Studio, this week I suggest that upon reading the questions, James Lipton's voice should echo within your head.

1. What is your favorite word?
fragile

2. What is your least favorite word?
retard

3. What turns you on?
intellect, confidence, humor, the ability to laugh at oneself, eye contact

4. What turns you off?
narcissism, extremism, if you weigh less then me

5. What sound do you love?
true laughter coming from the pit of one's stomach

6. What sound do you hate?
snoring

7. What is your favorite curse word?
fuck- what other word can be used in every part of speech? For example: I don't give a fuckty fuck what the fucking fucker said.

8. What profession other than yours would you like to attempt?
actor on Sesame Street- not a puppeteer, an actual human actor interacting with Big Bird, Cookie Monster, etc..

9. What profession would you not like to do?
Anything profiled on Dirty Jobs

10. If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?
Yes he was wrong. We let him in.

Join in:

Be Merry

2011-12-16T08:07:00.001-05:00

Most years, those weeks before Christmas I have spent time scouring various photo uploading sites for the perfect card. Analyzing my choices of photos, I would make a variety of mock ups and share them with Bry, who would decide which was best.

This year, didn't happen.

I made a few on Snapfish, shared them with Bry. Then shared them with my sis,G & sis in law,Coll, and chose the one Coll & I liked best. (Sorry G, you were just too indecisive!). While I did have a 40% off coupon with free shipping, deciding to order said cards on December 10 was probably not in my best interest to ensure the made it out before December 25. Instead, I paid for one hour printing at Walgreens.
In a nutshell, had our cards in hand in less then 24 hours.
While I can't figure out how to upload the entire card, I'll share a few of my favorite photos from our holiday shoot with the ever talented Ashley of Ashley Pierce Photography. It's amazing what she can do amongst the Christmas trees at a small, local nursery. Throw in some mini chalkboards, and SUCCESS!

simply perfect

Hmmm, Do I spy a new header photo?

Not the Way I Planned

2011-12-13T21:47:00.002-05:00

On Friday morning, the mall opens at ten.
A green shirt with Christmas trees in a variety of colors paired with her jeans, was the intended outfit for Mo. The intention was for Maeve to wear something similar, as recently she has been more decisive with her wardrobe.
We were to see Santa.
Beat the lines that form later in the day, and have some quiet time with the big man. Share our list of three things, with the hope that he would bring one. Capture the moment forever, paying for the overpriced package and place that picture, most likely with Maeve screaming, in the frame to add to the yearly collection.
That frame remains empty.
The visit postponed.

Instead of a visit to Santa on Friday with the girls, I spent the day in the Emergency Room holding my husband's hand as we learned that I was miscarrying.

The day before Halloween, with my period a day late, we discovered I was pregnant.
Ecstatic and excited, we decided to keep it a secret a little while. My only sister had just the week before returned from a vacation to Jamaica with an engagement ring. With my previous pregnancies, she was the first call I made. This time, I didn't want to steal her thunder, so I kept it a secret.
For two days, it was just between Bry and I. Then on the first of November, my brother's birthday, I shared the news with he and his wife. They vowed to keep the secret.
Over the next few weeks we shared with our parents, and waited eagerly for that first ultrasound. Because of a prior health issue, I am considered a high risk patient. I need to be on blood thinners throughout, so a visit to the high risk doctor early on to confirm a heartbeat is a necessity.
The Monday after Thanksgiving, with my parents watching the girls, Bryan and I headed to the doctor. Entering the office, the familiar faces greeted me, making me feel welcome. The appointment started normally, with the typical blood pressure, weigh in, and like.
As I laid on the ultrasound table, I had no idea how different this appointment would go. At this stage, the heartbeat should be quite visible in the ultrasound.
But it was not.
Things were not what they should have been.
Instead of measuring 8 weeks 2 days, it was 6 weeks 2 days.
The ultrasound tech asked for assistance, and then asked for the doctor.
He struggled to find a heartbeat, and his calculations again had the pregnancy two weeks behind.
My heart dropped, and looking at Bry's face, I knew he felt the same way.
Two weeks behind.
Could our dates be off?
No.
Could the ultrasound be off?
No.
Is there something wrong?
Yes.
He instructed us to come back in two weeks. Another ultrasound would hopefully determine more.
For ten days, the possibilities of what could happen danced through our heads, our hearts, and conversation.

Miscarriage.
Chromosomal Abnormalities.
Having a child with severe disabilities.

Then it was out of our hands.

I was in the emergency room hearing the confirmation that my body had miscarried.
The past few days have been physically draining, but emotionally I am okay.
Really, I am.
Having had the gift of that ultrasound two weeks ago gave us the time to process that a miscarriage could be a reality. We had time to consider our options, to consider what the possibilities could have been and what that would have meant to our family.
We had time to grieve this loss before it was definite, and for that I'm grateful.

The frame remains empty for now, however on Friday, I have a date with Santa and two little girls.

Where I'm From...

2011-12-12T22:50:00.000-05:00

This post was intially written a few months ago, but I feel like it fits this week's listicle perfectly. Not the traditional listicle format, but perfect none the less.

A few months ago, I stumbled upon the template to the Where I'm From writing exercise modeled after the poem by George Ella Lyon on another blogger's site. I initally found it on The Girl Behind in June of this year. Her eloquence, created such a vivid picture of one's childhood that I was floored. Immediately I too copied the template, with the intention of filling my own words, my own life on those empty lines.
But then, it hit me.
That feeling that the task was too large. The task of finding the "right" words seemed overwhelming.
So I clicked, save and there the template sat.
Waiting for my words.
Days turned to weeks which turned to months and then it happened.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered the template listed amongst this week's prompts over at Mama Kat. I debated, should I finish? (really should I start?)
Reading Galit's version over at These Little Waves gave me that last push I needed.

Where I'm From

I am from a town raised from steel, from Louisville Slugger and Heinz ketchup.

I am from the repetition of a suburban development. Black mailbox, Black driveway, freshly mowed grass.

I am from the feisty dogwood tree sharing her spring blooms, the sound of the crickets breaking the nightly silence.

I am from Christmas Eve Mass and overindulgence, from Mom-Moms. and Pop-Pops and extended family too.

I am from the loud voices overtaking the room and the whispers found in it's corners.

From "Imagine if you applied yourself." and "Don't end up like....".

I am from the pew in the middle row. The promise of eternal life, and the Host every Sunday. From education about faith to shared breakfast after. From crowded manger scenes, to washing of the feet. From Amen and I believe.

I’m from small towns in Poland, Slovakia, and Ireland, overly buttered piergoies and tomato sauced topped stuffed cabbage.

From the farm my great grandfather managed, the rides on the back of the tractor down the dusty dirt road and the little boy who learned to ride a bicycle only after riding away on the one he had stolen.

I am from framed photos on the wall and matted in plastic lined albums. I am from little, few family heirlooms or mementos of monetary value. Instead, people filling the confines of a home. Rooms overtaken with life.
Family the core, the center, the most important.

I must add in non-poetic verse.

I am from the land of the Blob.

Yes, this Blob.

This movie was filmed here, and our local theater hosts a Blob Fest yearly.

Snowed

2011-12-08T11:51:00.000-05:00

In layer upon layer, coat, scarf and glove.

Out the door I'm pushed into snow I do not love.

I do not want to go outside,

I do not like the snow.

Yet this falls on deaf ear

As my eyes begin to tear

I do not want to go outside,

I do not like the snow.

My feet feel heavy in my boots,

Down the stairs I slowly scoot.

I do not want to go outside,

I do not like the snow.

Through the glass a smile I see,

I'm jealous it's her inside not me.

I do not want to go outside,

I do not like the snow.

In my face, a snowball hits

God, this snow, it is the pits!

I do not want to go outside,

I do not like the snow.

My hands reach down, a target's in sight,

With a snowball I'm ready for the fight.

I do not want to go outside,

I do not like the snow.

On his head the snow falls

I laugh, then I hear my mom call,

"Do you want to come inside?

Do you like the snow?"

Well,

I do not want to go INside.

I LOVE the snow!

5.) Write a poem about a snow memory.
Last January, at the ripe old age of 2 3/4, she hated the snow. At least, that's what she told us. As I bundled her up, layer upon layer, she reminded me she didn't want to go out. I captured this photo moments before sending her out with Bry, after he had shoveled the front path. Quickly her frown turned into a smile. She had a lot of time to enjoy the snow last year, with record snow fall in the greater Philadelphia area.

Memories Captured

2011-12-06T14:52:00.001-05:00

Time has a way of passing, often without realization or acknowledgement. Routine and the daily repetition of life, often clouds our view, preventing us from seeing those minuscule changes in our children. In what seems like overnight, they are different, changed. At times nearly unrecognizable as facets of their personalities emerge, and their sense of self becomes stronger.
My girls are becoming independent creatures with distinct personalities and preferences. With each new day, I find myself in a constant state of wonder.
How did they get so big?
So smart?
So perfect?

The lovely Galit of These Little Waves and the fabulous Alison of Mama Wants This are hosting a link up entitled Memories Captured. We are encouraged to take a moment and reflect. Combine a favorite photo with text that captures a moment, and share.
For a moment, I did just this. I soaked up my girls as they are, at nearly two and almost four years. I could not help but fall in love with them again. My lovie girl and Sunshine.

Nice Girl List

2011-12-05T07:57:00.000-05:00

Last week, Stasha gave us the guidelines for this first Listicle of December. She wrote "next week make a Christmas wish list please. The only rule, it must be for YOU. We are all making someone else happy and that is all swell, but let us write down what WE want. May it be world peace or a new pair of stilettos, pop it on YOUR list."
Something for me?
What is this idea of creating a list of my own desires?
I am a bit scared, my friends. Where do I start? Initially, I thought I would keep this list to the real world and forward it to my loved ones as a hint for the holidays. Keep things budget conscious, as I usually do. However, I said screw it, and decided to go big, really big.
Budget, Ha!
And Santa, if you are reading, I have been really good this year. I've eaten all my veggies, said my prayers, and been nice to my parents, children, and husband. I hope you consider me for your nice list.

My Nice List

1. Burberry Scarf

There is something about Burberry plaid that makes my heart skip a beat. Perhaps it's the classic style that appeals to me. Wrapped around my neck on a cold January day, this scarf would dress up any day.

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2. Blue Ball Jars

I may be the only person asking for these for Christmas, but I love them. I have written about my grandmother's collection of blue glass which is now mine, and I believe these jars would make the most beautiful and complimentary centerpiece for our dining room.

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3. A Personalized Sign from Barn Owl Primitives

The talented Kristi from Barn Owl Primitives makes some of the most adorable typography word art. Taking inspiration from children's songs like You are my Sunshine or creating Family Rules boards, I find myself imagining these pieces in bedrooms, family rooms, and playrooms in our home.

So cute & so crafty.

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4. Fun Skirts

I spend most of my days in jeans or yoga pants. Being a full time mommy of a toddler and preschooler, means that my need for cute and flirty winter skirts is non-existient. I love the collection of fun skirts from Boden, and only wish I had some place to wear them.

5. Mom Car

I drive a minivan.

I don't mind it.

I'll even admit the potential label of soccer mom doesn't freak me out either.

I drive a minivan, I'm a mom, no biggie.

I do, however, have car envy when I see a mom driving an Acura MDX.

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6. Riding Boots

I don't ride horses.

I don't live on a farm.

I don't spend a lot of time in a position where I would need riding boots.

And I haven't gotten the courage to wear leggings or skinny jeans,

however I long for riding boots.

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7. Calligraphy Lessons

I have always been complimented on my penmanship. Thank you Catholic School and the D'Neilan method. In turn, I have enjoyed writing out things like cards, envelopes, and name tags. I would love to kick it up a notch, and learn how to accurately write calligraphy. How perfect for Jeanna's wedding!

Heck, if I do it well, perhaps I could turn it into a work from home business.

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8. Ghost Chairs

We have a very classic dining room right now: huge Persian rug, even larger wood table, a new Stickley buffet piece, and a small side board from my grandmother. I would love to turn the room on it's side a bit, and get ghost chairs, ten to be exact to offer bit of whimsy in the room.

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9. Mirrors

We have lived here for over three years and a great many walls are still unadorned. Our master bedroom is one of those rooms that just doesn't look finished yet. I have seen these before in the Potterybarn catalogue and thought how perfect above our bed. Alas, their price tag a bit high, so for now I wish.

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10. A Happy Holiday for All

I guess I can't be too greedy.

I have so much to be thankful. My beautiful little girls, my fabulous group of friends and supportive family, as well as the love of my life, Bryan. My final item on my wish list is for all those who read this little blog to have a happy holiday season and wonderful new year.

Me: A to Z

2011-12-01T23:31:00.001-05:00

Things have been a little heavy over here in the Land of Zilla. Thankfully, this fun idea popped into my blog view tonight. Exactly what I needed, that and Pinterest!

let's play {a - z}

A. Age: 33

B. Bed size: Queen

C. Chore that you hate: Cleaning Ugh. Thank you Just Like Mom cleaning service!

D. Dogs: None will ever be as great as Joker.

E. Essential start to your day: Chai Tea w/honey & milk

F. Favorite color(s): orange & green

G. Gold or Silver: Silver

H. Height: 5'7"

I. Instruments you play: Piano, not to well

J. Job title: Stay at Home Mom - Enough Said.

K. Kids: 2 lovely little girls

L. Live: Suburbs of Philadelphia

M. Mother’s name: Joanne

N. Nicknames: Jackie, Jac

O. Overnight hospital stays: c-section times two, week stay for that old blood clot (NOT FUN!)

P. Pet peeves: Beds not made, Dishes left in the sink in the AM, Biting nails

Q. Quote from a movie: Oh too many! We use this one a lot now that we're that old married couple w/kids.
"Well, um, actually a pretty nice little Saturday, we're going to go to Home Depot. Yeah, buy some wallpaper, maybe get some flooring, stuff like that. Maybe Bed, Bath, & Beyond, I don't know, I don't know if we'll have enough time" Old School.

R. Right or left handed: Right.

S. Siblings: one brother, one sister

T. Time you wake up: usually 7:15am

U. Underwear: Yes. I'm a fan of Hanky Panky panties, dare I say, divine!

V. Vegetable you hate: Not many, though I dispise watermelon even though it's a fruit.

W. What makes you run late: one word: BRYAN

X. X-Rays you’ve had: finger (rough four square game), wrist (accident in gym class in 6th grade), hips by my chiropractor

Y. Yummy food that you make: Banana chocolate chip bread, Christmas cookies, Piergoies

Z. Zoo animal: Polar Bears, though recently they've been a bit lazy, and I'm starting to enjoy the otters.

Linking up with Faith, Hope, & a whole Lotta Love and discovered from the lovely Stasha at The Good Life!

My View from the Top

2011-11-28T08:20:00.000-05:00

This week we're throwing a virtual baby shower of sorts. Kim, from the Zook Book Nook is expecting her third little girl this week, and in anticipation of the arrival Stasha, our listicle maven, has moved her link to Kim's site. This week's inspiration, 10 of our favorite photos.

The rain slowly began to fall. The weeks prior we have outlined our intentions for photos after our ceremony.

With each falling drop, our plans evolved. In place of a timely photo shoot on the beach, a few candids.

This my favorite.

Our purse strings and patience were tested. Nearly two years after the wedding day we finally escaped. Paradise at our fingertips.

Those first few weeks of survival, sleep stolen in any moment given. She had yet to discover her thumb, so the pacifier was her solace, my refuge from feedings.

Generations separate them. She recognized her own eyes in her great grandmothers. A smile shared.

Many surprises disclosed on this June morning.

First, upon arrival sharing that the house they thought they were invited to tour had already been purchased. Then walking room to room, the nursery location reveals the anticipation of another grandchild.

Winter 2009-2010

Snow

Piles and piles of snow holding us captive in our home.

The rosy cheeks reminiscent of her sister's. Her small body dwarfed by her father's large hands.

The transition from a home of three to four over, as the new norm has been established. Stealing a moment from play, daddy and his two little girls share an embrace.

Her disposition truly is like that of the Sunshine. Taking a moment from digging, she offers a smile.

She had waited all summer for the fall. She looked forward to being a "soccer girl", for kicking, running, and scoring. She longed for the shin guards, cleats, and soccer braids. Her enthusiasm the only motivation for his early morning wake up on Saturdays.

Thanksging Prose

2011-11-24T08:08:00.001-05:00

'Twas the night before Thanksgiving,

And while the children did rest.

He hurried in the kitchen,

Doing what he does best.

His ritual perfected, as

We'll share a huge feast,

Of stuffing, potatoes, corn,

And an organic roast beast.

Chopping, dicing,

His menu, so grand.
My job so simple,

Just offer a hand.

Our table is set

Eighteen, can you believe it?

There's room at this table,

We'll make it, we will fit!

The hurry, the panic,

Sets in night before.

What were we thinking?
What is in store?

A house filled with family,

Our tradition, our Day.

I cannot in the heart of me,

Think of a better way.

The chaos, the bodies,

The drinking, the food.

The laughter, the smiles,

The altogether good mood.

Each year I feel lucky

Altogether, we're blessed.

To have a home, a family,

A day with limited stress.

I am thankful for family,

The young and the old.

For the food on the table,

and the vodka- kept cold!

It's easy to complain,

When things don't go your way,

But I'm so glad we have the respite

Each year of Thanksgiving Day.
A time where we truly think,

About all we treasure.

How we made it another year,

Survived all we've weathered.

I am lucky this year,

So much to be thankful for.

A husband that cooks, works hard,

I adore.

Two lovely daughters,

Filled with energy and spark,

Running, Laughing,

From sunrise to dark.

Family and friends

Whose support, unreal.

Many who will join us,

And share in this meal.

So Happy Thanksgiving to you,

Whomever you are,

May your days be surrounded

With love near or far.

Linking up with Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop. This week I combined the following prompts.
2.) What traditions do you carry on with your family each year?

4.) Write a poem about something you’re thankful for this Thanksgiving.

Sisters

2011-11-21T08:29:00.001-05:00

This Monday Jen chose an interesting list for us mavens of listicles to make: 10 reasons why you do or do not want more children! OR, if you don’t have kids, 10 reasons why you don’t, including if you ever will.
Having branched off topic last week, I couldn't do it again? Right?
I'm not the rule breaking type, however I couldn't get into this list.
So alas, I did it again.
I'm still keeping the "kids" topic, but instead this week for listicles, I'm thinking back to Sisters! Sorry Joey. When I was pregnant with Maeve, I did not know if She was a She. I had told those asking that I didn't care. I wanted a healthy and happy baby. That's the morally responsible response, correct? However, deep down in the crevices of my heart I hoped that Mo would be lucky enough to have a sister. When they announced "it's a girl" that cold January night, my own lifetime of shared memories with my sister overwhelmed me as I thought, how lucky for my own girls to have each other.
Sisters are...

1. Playmates
Always having a guest for a tea party or oponent in a game of Candyland.

2. Confidants
Having an ear to whisper, and giggles to share.

3. Stylists
Wardrobes to match and when older "borrow".

4. Partners in Crime
Having an extra set of ears, eyes, and imaginations to torment parents.

5. Cheerleaders
Offering guidance, support, and that cruel dose of reality when needed.

6. Sources of Inspiration
Finding a desire to do what the other has accomplished.

7. Each Others Conscience
Knowing and enforcing the rules, just because it's right.

8.Rivals
Jealousy, Envy, and all that jazz, healthy competition (I pray).

9. Nurse
In stolen moments, sharing hugs and kisses.

10. Best Friends
The best gift I have given them, each other.

Happy Birthday Dear Sis!

XOXO

On the Road

2011-11-18T14:05:00.001-05:00

"Are we there yet?" my brother's voice echoes from the back of the minivan. Piercing our ears.
"NO!" they yell simultaneously, their voices strained.
His shoulders hunch over the wheel, as she adjusts the pillow behind her neck. Lying back, her head faces the ceiling as a moan escapes her pursed lips.
My poor parents.
Inching forward, we make minuscule progress.
Kicking my black flip flops under my seat, I attempt to contort myself into a comfortable position. A nearly impossible task in a minivan, I read the title of the novel again:
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings,
I think, do you Maya?
My mind wanders, does Maya Angelou truly know how it feels to be caged?
Stuck?
Or in our case trapped
in a minivan,
on a summer afternoon,
in August,
escaping with other tourists from a pending hurricane,
Only a few days before the five of us successfully managed the eight hour drive to the Outer Banks of North Carolina without bloodshed or mutiny.
For three days, we leisurely lounge ocean side. Basking in the sun, as the waves crash along the shoreline during the afternoon, and playing in the community pool during the night. Our family vacation in its infancy, when ominous news faces us.
My skin has yet to reach it's optimum shade of brown when a buzz fills the air of the rental community. Words like "evacuation" and "mandatory exit" swirl around. Each successive day, the outlook more grim.
On day three, the newscaster delivers the report, mandatory evacuation for all non-residents.
I refuse to believe it, dragging my book and chair across the road to the beach in hope of finding solace in the sand.
The red flag flies high in the sky, as the life guards sit in their stands. The waves are already starting to gain speed and height, as the storm inches closer to the barrier islands.
I stand in disbelief, tears pooling in my eyes.
Our family vacation over before it truly starts.
Back to the car, where we sit and wait.
Crawling along the highway amongst a sea of other families suffering the same fate.
Vacations cut short by Mother Nature.
Hour by hour, mile by mile we slowly retreat.
Our emotions raw, our patience tested, as we survive the unexpected.
Pulling into the hotel parking lot, I feel hope surge in my belly.
My mother reveals she has secured a hotel room just outside Busch Gardens in Williamsburg Va. for the next few days.
And so our family vacation continues without the sand and surf.
This week we asked you to take us on a road trip. So much can happen within the confines of a car, from fraught confessions to detours for ice cream, so we’re looking forward to seeing where you take us.

Remember, your characters can drive as many miles as they want, but they should do it in less than 300 words. Please only link up if you’ve done the prompt, and remember: thoughtful and constructive comments help us grow as writers and as a community

I Used to Be....

2011-11-16T08:01:00.000-05:00

I used to be fun.

I used to be a night owl.
I used to be a riot.
I used to be easy going.
I used to be relaxed.
I used to sleep late.
I used to dress stylish.
I used to work out.
I used to work out of the house.
I used to be someone else.

Sometimes, I miss that person.
She was pretty cool, now that I think back to her.

That girl who's biggest worries were reserved for things like wondering if her pants made her ass look too big, or which restaurant for dinner on a Friday night.
Mortgage refinacing and nap training were not part of her vocabulary.

I think back to my time before becoming a parent longingly. If I could drop in for a moment, I think I would shake myself, and yell, "Sleep more! Eat out more! Vacation more! Spend more time just the two of you alone."

Don't get me wrong.
I love my life now.
We are truly blessed to have two smart, beautiful and strong little girls, a home we intend to live in forever, and a lifestyle that permits us treats like Laurie Berkner Band tickets for Christmas and occasional nights out to dinner.
But, when I think back to that carefree easy life, I'm jealous a bit,
Especially the way my ass used to look in those jeans.

Shore to Please

2011-11-14T14:47:00.005-05:00

It's Monday!
Of course, you know what that means?
Listicles with the lovely Stasha at the Good Life. This week's list is a good one, inspired by Hopes at Staying Afloat , 10 Things that Make a Perfect Vacation.
Now, inspiration has taken me away, swept me away to the Shore.

The Jersey Shore.

when I write of the shore, my definition includes Seaside and towns south of Long Beach Island.

While there are towns above this point, I have limited knowledge and therefore have not chosen to include them in this piece.

Five Reasons why the Jersey Shore is NOT what you see on MTV

1. Families

If you head to the beach on any given Saturday or Sunday between Memorial Day and Labor Day, families populate the beaches. Extended families: grandparents bopping their grand babies on their knees while toddlers dig in the sand. Kids collecting sand fleas and hermit crabs, while the adults sit in their respective chairs drinking and talking.

My family

2. Not Everyone is Italian
nor do they want to be

Cultural pride rings strong at the Shore. However, it's not resevered to singularly to those of Italian descent. Never have more Irish descendants or those who are Irish for the day, been in one place, then Irish Weekend in North Wildwood.

While no specific days are dedicated to these ethnicities, German, Polish, Slovak, and Greek pride are evident through t-shirts and flags too.

When Irish Eyes are Smiling

3. Dress

There are some who dress like they are heading to the clubs. Usually that demographic is categorized to towns such as Wildwood, Seaside, and the like. Visit a few other towns, and you have entered the land of Lilly & Tory,

Polo & Jcrew.

Don't know these designers?

If you're heading to Cape May, Ocean City, Sea Isle, Avalon, or Stone Harbor,

then you better learn!

Think Preppy!
Polos! Pearls! Khaki! Pink & Green!

A lot different then the hair puff & porn star heels.

Bry in his Polo

Me in my Lilly polo

4. Boardwalk

Okay, I will admit the Wildwood boardwalk is very similar to that of Seaside, home to Jersey Shore cast.

BUT, head a few miles up the Parkway and Ocean City awaits.

Those boards are clean and family centric.

There are nights dedicated to families for heaven's sake and the town itself is dry!

No liquor stores or licenses in the entire place.

Clean boardwalk

Family friendly rides

5. Cape May

This town alone serves as the reason why the Jersey Shore is NOT solely confined to the scenes on tv.

Historical the oldest seashore in the country, Cape May takes pride in its history. Weeks dedicated to its Victorian hertiage fill the calendar as its shores are dotted with families and couples. A popular destination for beach weddings and commitment ceremonies, it's venues offer close proximity to the beach. Cape May is filled with small hotels, bed & breakfasts, and large Victorian homes. Bike riders fill the streets as the small, independent shops sell various home wears and apparel.

Hotel Alcott

The newlyweds circa 2005
Cape May

However, I am realist. It isn't all made up. There is truth in what you see on that screen,
and so I offer:

Five Reasons Why the Jersey Shore IS what you see on MTV

1. Tan

Skin cancer is a real threat.

Doctors and other professionals have warned of the ill effects of a suntan. But this does not apply on Jersey shore beaches. Many cannot get tan enough.

Comments such as "You look so much healthier with color."

and "Are you sick, maybe you need some sun." are often regular expressions heard in social circles, including my family. It is bad, yes, but why do I feel so much more attractive with that bit of color?

See that browned leg, that's my mother in law's natural state.
She'd kill me if I put her whole pic on here, but she'd also tell you she's pale.

2. Beach Wear

If you ever feel bad about your body, head to the Jersey shore?

Why?

Because it appears that with the sun, the shore brings out a lot of self confidence.

Skin.

A lot of Skin

Is shown on those beaches, often by those who should keep more to the imagination.

I won't lie. My self esteem does go up after comparing my own flawed body to the others wearing string bikinis and tiny bottoms.

Flattering?
I know, but compared to the people around, I feel fine!

3. Alcohol

The signs displayed at the beach access points warn that alcohol is prohibited, however this is rarely enforced. Frankly, I've never seen anyone told NOT to bring their drink to the beach. Most coolers (of those families I mentioned in part 1) are filled with wine coolers and beer. Secured in their cozies, alcohol is consumed in mass quantities during a Shore vacation.
Be it at the beach, or on the deck or at dinner or the bar, alcohol is a must have!

4. Attire

While many of the beaches seem to have a dress code of khaki, pink, and green, there are places where the porn star look is embraced. The Wildwood boardwalk is one of those. Skirts covering the bare minimum paired with deep. plunging tanks parade the boards while the guys dress in t-shirts and jeans.
There's also the large selection of "classy" t-shirts available in many of the shops.
Shirts that say stuff like "Slippery When Wet" or "DTF".

Definitely not my cup of tea, but it's there, for all to enjoy,
And for those of us with children, to explain.

5. People

There are a multitude of families that inhabit the shore.

However, the single scene is still in effect.

Time to bring out the straigtening iron, mascara, and the heels, because it's always ladies night somewhere!

Bars, Clubs, & the Boardwalk offer just the place to stroll, check out the scene and find that special someone for the night, or for a few hours.
One can never go too tight or too short or too tan,
okay, maybe too tight and too short, but defintely not too tan!

source

The Jersey Shore, the place where families and singles can play, drink in excess, and tan.

I can think of no more perfect place to spend those hot summer days!

Only 6 months, and 14 days until Memorial Day 2012, the offical start of summer at the Shore!

Last night,

2011-11-11T10:37:00.000-05:00

Last night,
I raised my glass.
Last night,
I threw up my hands, and screamed like a school girl.
Last night,
I was surrounded by decandance, alcohol, and profanity.
Last night,
I gave up the minivan and the music class.
Last night,
I abandoned the responsibilites of mommyhood.

I sang.

I screamed.

I clapped.

I danced.

I relaxed.

I rocked....hard.

Brunch

2011-11-10T08:17:00.001-05:00

Descending the cement staircase, I push open the heavy metal door. The voices echo throughout the large auditorium that also serve as the school's gymnasium and cafeteria. Rectangular tables are pushed together as a sea of bodies fill the space. Eagerly, I begin searching for a familiar face.
Waving his arm high, I spy my father. Dressed in his khaki pants and polo, he leisurely sips a mug of coffee. Holding the red ticket in his hand, I rush over.
Having survived another hour of catechism class, this breakfast is most appreciated. Once a month, the reward for my Catholic duty, breakfast in the basement of our church's school.
Tossing the yellow folder onto the table, I throw pleasantries at the adults at the table.
Our church is small, and many of the families have been parishioners for decades. Those faces are so familiar, as I grew up amongst them. The kisses I offer on cheeks has been dolled out many times before, and serves as another obstacle to procuring my brunch.
Returning to the doorway, I hand my red ticket to the matronly ladies working the door. Nodding, they permit me to walk past, and find my place in the line.
Within minutes, I am at the metal food stand. The blue plastic tray in hand, I grab the utensils from their plastic containers. Fork, spoon, and knife placed on the tray as I grab a few extra napkins. I spy my great Uncle Mickey behind the glass divide. Seeing me, he offers me a smile and asks if I want some extra pancakes.
Declining, instead I ask for a glass of milk. Taking the plastic cup, he fills it three quarters of the way. I could choose one of the small plastic glasses of orange juice or tomato, but milk works best for this feast.
Handing the plate to the next man in the line, I move down a bit. Wearing his white hat, I ask for more of the potatoes. His home fries are legendary, and I never can seem to have enough on my plate. Placing the metal spoon into the container, he dollops a heavy heaping onto my plate.
My own smile widens as I decide in that moment my mom and sis will be jealous and no, they can't have that extra bite.
It is only a few years later I will meet his granddaughter in homeroom during our freshmen year of high school, and become her best friend. We are given his recipe, but never successfully can recreate those potatoes. On this day, the man in the white hat is simply the potato guy.
My plate is handed off to the next elderly gentlemen. Another great uncle, I suppose, as I simply categorize them all as relatives.The men, the older members of our church, have this system mastered. Scrambled eggs and pieces of bacon find their way onto the plate, and then a piece of ham steak and one plump sausage.
Carefully he extends the overfilled plate to me across the counter. I grab a dinner roll and pat of butter. Placing it all on my tray, I am ready.
The trek to the table is harrowing, as I navigate amongst the crowd of those in their Sunday bests while balancing a plate of food, utensils and a glass of milk. Dodging winter coats and cups of coffee, I find my family.
Placing the plate before me, I settle into the metal chair. I place the sausage on my father's plate, as he adds ketchup and offers me thanks.
I take my fork and begin.
My most favorite place to eat as a child: Sunday brunch in our Church's basement.

This post comes at a difficult point in my life, as only this week we have discovered the Archdiocese is closing our Church. My memories of our small, neighborhood Church fill my childhood, as both sides of my family were members. Initially a parish for those of Slovak decent, the parish was like family, filled with piergoies, haluski, & stuffed cabbages. While I no longer live in the area, I still considered it "My Church"

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This post was inspired by Mama Kat's Pretty Much World Famous Writer's Workshop
3.) Write about your favorite place to eat when you were a child.

For Four Years...

2011-11-07T08:20:00.003-05:00

High School 1992-1996

Hollywood has made a mint on the trials and tribulations associated with this tortured demographic.
Not quite a kid, definitely not an adult. That somewhere in between filled with self-consciousness, hormonal surges, and doubt.
Stasha over at the Good Life has initiated this month, November as Babes in the Bleachers Month! An entire month of which one can link up their own memories of high school and join in the road trip filled with what I assume is enough Clearasil and Teen Spirit to keep those memories alive for years to come.

What doesn't scream insecurity and embarrassment more then high school?

1. Friends

My best friends were really a Hodge podge of people whom if I try I cannot truly categorize today.

I don't know how we ended up as a group. I seriously am still perplexed. I have only kept in touch with one friend, Ashley since high school, while others I have reconnected with on facebook and a few others have seemed to fall off the face of the earth. When I look back, I wonder how we found each other and why we stayed friends for those four years?

2. Over- Involvement

I played field hockey for a few years, did stats for the boys' track team for a year, threw the javelin my senior year, was in the school play my freshman year, the musical my sophomore year, and was an active member in our chapter of SADD, which was the equivalent of the school's activity board. On top of all that I swam on our local swim team year round and worked as a life guard and swim instructor. I did all these activities but honestly, I don't think I ever truly felt like I found my niche. A chameleon would be a good analogy as I always seemed to be doing something else.

3. Academics

I never really applied myself. I never really studied, completed most of my papers and assignments last minute, and didn't put too much extra effort into academics, yet I was a member of the National Honor Society. I did really well in college when I actually applied myself and often wonder what high school might have been like if I actually studied.

4. My Hair

I was not a Jersey girl. I did not tease.

Dye was my best friend.

Throughout my high school year tenure, my hair ranged in shades from light nearly platinum blond, to red, copper, auburn, and brown. I wore it long. Often, bored in English class my junior year, I would french braid it as the teacher lectured. I then chopped it in layers, similar to Jennifer Aniston, aka the Rachel. At graduation, I sported banged bob just under my chin, dyed a light brown with blond highlights.

5. Self-Image

When I look back at photos of high school, I cannot believe I thought I was fat. I swam four times a week, ate okay and was sixteen, so my metabolism was at it's peak. Athletically built in what seemed a sea of toothpicks, the majority of my friends were about 5 feet tall and weighed around 100 lbs.
As an adult, I understand my complex. However, when I do look back, Damn! I did look good.

6. Mexico.

My Spanish teacher somehow coordinated a trip to Mexico for many of the Freshmen Spanish students. Nearly twenty sets of parents agreed to send their children to Mexico with only two adult chaperons.

Sounds kind of funny now, but away we went!

Staying with a host family for a week, brushing our teeth with bottled water and watching Casper the Friendly Ghost in Spanish, it was intended to be full Spanish immersion. During the morning, small group Spanish instruction while the afternoons were filled with trips to local sites. My housemate, Laurie and I spoke minimal conversational Spanish, as we had only had 3/4 of a year of it. In the end we may have exchanged five words with our host family.
Our next destination, Acapulco!
We then spent 3 days in Acapulco visiting the beach and a water park.
How a trip to Acapulco was educational, I still don't know?

7. Spain.

Again, this same Spanish teacher got a last minute deal on a five day, four night excursion to the Costa del Sol, Spain during my senior year. With my best friend Ashley and ten other people we flew across the world with only one chaperon to visit the coast of Spain. He had managed to squeeze as much culture into those few days as humanly possible. It was one of the most memorable moments of high school for me.

8. Prom

When I look back, I could kick myself.

I had no confidence with guys.
None, nada, zilch!
I guess, having seen my fair share of Molly Ringwald movies, watching too much My So-Called Life and finding way too much similarities with those kids in Can't Hardly Wait. I thought some guy was secretly panning for me and the week before Prom he would finally get the courage to ask.
Where were you Jake Ryan? Jordan Catalano? Anyone?

Nope. Nothing.

Instead, I assumed I would just go with my best guy friend Jason.

Then, another friend, who HAD a boyfriend, asked Jay to go. Her boyfriend, already graduated and did not want to go. So, I was left alone, to my own devices. Either stay home or go alone.

I went alone.
In the end, the prom wasn't anything special. I had a fabulous dress, decent shoes, and nice hair. .
Black, Jessica McClintock with a kimono neck detail with two frog buttons and a kick ass slit up the side. I looked pretty darn good if I say so myself.

I more then made up for my lack of formal experiences in college, thanks to Bry's fraternity formals and our senior ball. These events were much more fun and enjoyable. Perhaps the open bar had something to do with it?

9. My car

My senior year, my grandmother got a new car and her mint green Chevy Celebrity sedan was given to me. I named her Ariel, after the Little Mermaid, and drove that thing into the ground. The heater only occasionally worked. I had an ice scraper stuffed into the tape deck to get the radio to work, and the cloth roof was stapled to prevent it from falling. I loved it. I swear my mother was ecstatic to have someone to share in taxiing, getting to school early, pick ups from after school activities, sports, parties, dances, etc.. I loved having the freedom to come and go as I wanted. I had one rule though, if I drove, someone else had to pump my gas. I don't think I pumped gas myself until I was nearly twenty years old.

10. My social life

If I think back, there really wasn't too much turmoil in my high school years. I never skipped class. I always was on time, and if I was late I did have a note. When I was home sick, I usually was sick or at least faking it, but still home. I got in early for club meetings and often stayed late for practice. I actually got along well with my mom most of the time. I never had a curfew, just had to call if I'd be late. I guess I was a good kid. The kind parents wish for, and the kind I hope I have. I never really did anything to give my parents the impression I wasn't responsible and honest, because I really was responsible and honest. Like I said, I never did drugs, smoked, drank only a few times never to the point of intoxication, and never had a boyfriend. They didn't have to worry about dating because I didn't date. Teachers seemed to like me, and I never got into any trouble.

I guess I was relatively boring kid.

2011-11-04T08:32:00.000-04:00

The silver bowl sits atop the counter. Overflowing with sweetened bliss. The candy accumulated from our three (yes 3!) trick or treating adventures piles high.
They know the drill.
Finish your meal, and as reward, on piece awaits.
Will it be a package of lemonade flavored Mike & Ikes?
new this season, I suppose, as Just Born was a sponsor at the Boo at the Zoo event on Sunday
Perhaps, it will be a packet of sweet tarts?
Their sweetened tart flavor causing ones tongue and face to curl up.
Chocolate is always a good choice. Will it be, Hershey's bar? Mini Snickers? Milky Way?

She turns her face towards the bowl. Balancing herself on the chair, she stands above.
Focused on her task.
She fingers a package of M&M's.
Ah, Good choice, I think.
But releases them, and continues to dig.
Laffy Taffy, Smarties, Starbursts, and Swedish Fish:
Each item examined, closely drawn to her face, then released.
Back into the pool of candy.
The orange wrapper is visible, and I notice it.
How can I not?
It's my most favorite Halloween candy, Reese's Peanut Butter cups.
Yes, cups.
Plural.
Two cups.
The next street over most of the houses give out full size bars, and this piece a relic of that stroll.
Perhaps she has not seen it, but alas, her fingers find the package.
With conviction, she says, "I choose this!".
Raising the orange wrapped candy over her head, I fake a smile.
"Oh good" I sigh, "Peanut Butter cups are so yummy".
I had planned to eat those after bedtime.
To savor each yummy chocolate peanut buttery cup alone, in private, without tiny fingers begging for a morsel.

Damn her.

Then she does it.
"You want to share, Mama?" she starts. "I got two. One for me and one for you".
Who is this creature? This blue eyed, dirty blond child willing to share her Halloween candy which she earned, where did she come from?

Damn her.

"Of course, I'll share". I say.
The smile stretches across her face and she takes a giant bite.
"I like peanut butter cups". she says.
"Me too, Mo. Me too."

What a Trip!

2011-11-03T16:22:00.001-04:00

Mama Kat's Prompt this week:
1.) Did you create a list of 22 things you’ve done in your life last week?
Yes, Here it is.
This week, choose one item from your list and elaborate! We want the story

20. had to rename our honeymoon to a babymoon after discovering myself pregnant three weeks before departure.

I sat back down into the chair. My eyes glanced across the table. Placing the glass to his mouth, his eyes met mine.
I mouthed, "Nope", as the conversation continued around.
His eyes widened.
I believe it may have been fear I saw in Bry's eyes at that moment.
"Another toast", Lynsay said.
My glass of wine raised back in the air, as we congratulated our most dear friend, Steve on his new position.
This celebratory dinner in honor of Steve happened to coincide with another first.
One that had been disclosed to Bryan only a few hours before.
It was still only a possibility, a perhaps, and maybe.

However, it was the very first evening I suspected I was pregnant.

Between appetizer and entree at our favorite Seafood restaurant, I had excused myself to the restroom anticipating a certain monthly arrival.
Already a day late, I was sure it would come.
It never did.

Visiting my mother in law the following day down the shore, I knew it would arrive on the beach. Of course, what could be more embarrassing then an incident in a bathing suit?
The day was spent basking in the sun, wading in the sea, and reading uninterrupted.

It never came.

We dined alone at a local bar, and taking it's absence as a sign, I ordered a soda.
No alcohol for me, as Bry shook his head in disbelief.

Could I really be pregnant?

Over a meal of cheesesteaks and fries, we developed a plan of action. In an attempt to avoid any family members, we would purchase two different pregnancy tests at the drug store down the shore. However, we would wait until we arrived home that evening to test.
It would only be a few hours and then we would know with certainty.

Arriving at our house, we abandoned our bags in the car and fled to our bedroom.
Having consumed a rather large iced tea during the hour and half ride home, my bladder easily performed its duty with the test.
Placing the plastic stick onto the counter, I walked into our bedroom.
Lying on the bed, his arms covered his eyes as he spoke.
"Do you think we can handle this?" he said. Lifting his arms off his face, looking straight into mine.
"I sure hope so," I began, "I mean, if we're pregnant".
I watched the minute pass, and then another, and then another.
Three minutes.
Exactly what the directions has instructed.
Walking into the bathroom, my stomach and heart jumped as I reached for the stick.

+

Tears began to fill my eyes, as I could hear the sobs over take my body.
Rising from the bed, he wrapped his arms around me.
"I thought this is what you wanted" he asked, kissing my head as he finished.
"It is". I said, "but what about our trip?"
Only three weeks from that day we were scheduled to spend seven days on the island of St. Barth's. The honeymoon we had spent nearly two years saving and planning for, was less then a month away.
Now, how would pregnancy throw a wrench into those plans?
"I guess you just won't drink" he said, laughing.

And that's the only thing I did miss.

Three and a half

2011-11-02T09:02:00.001-04:00

Dissociative identity disorder is a psychiatric diagnosis and describes a condition in which a person displays multiple distinct identities (known as alters or parts), each with its own pattern of perceiving and interacting with the environment.
source

While this is the definition of Dissociative Identity Disorder (aka multiple personality), I think it also is a fitting definition for a three and half year old, or at least MY three and a half year old.

I just don't get.
One moment, she is loving and cuddly. Playing nicely with her toys and her sister. Sharing, laughing, and smiling,
Everything is good.

Then it happens.

Like a switch,
Her alter ego takes over.
Thrashing, kicking, screaming.
She has no control.

Who is this child?
How did she get here?
What the f--k did I do to her?
Then the realization takes hold.

I told her no.

Lunch could not be Halloween candy,
or I requested she share the five toys she was hoarding
or nap time had arrived.

In response, an action comparable to Regan from the Exorcist, takes hold.
As her body contorts and her hair tosses from left to right.
Primal screams from the pit of her stomach fill the air.

I am at a loss.

I try to stop her.
Raising my own voice, I start.
"Time Out" I yell.
"Do I have to take away Jessie? Mermaid? Red Dog? Peyton?"
Her smug response only agitates me more.
"No Video, tonight!"
"No Chick"
No, No, No....

I can feel my own blood boil, as profanity fills my brain and whispers escape under my breath as her rant continues.

A new approach,
I pick her up,
Toss her into her bed.
Tell her not to get out.
Shutting the door (okay slamming the door), I walk away.
Leaving her interchanging sobs with screams.
I am done.
Defeated.
Disappointed.
Done.

Mere minutes pass as I hear footsteps on the hardwood floor.
The sound of the knob turning echos in the hall.
She opens the door,
Tear stained cheeks, with eyes face downward.
Her breathing strained as she chokes,

Mama, I
breath
can't
breath
breathe.
breath
Help
breath
Me
breath

I gather her up in my arms, reminding her to breathe in and out, as her face buries itself in my shoulder. Her body heavy as her chest rises and falls quickly against my own.
It's over.
"I'm sorry." she mutters as she looks up to me.
Her eyes are different now, as I see contrition and love, which had been missing earlier.

Three is tough.

Kick me in the ass tough.

I love my kid, but I won't lie.
In those moments,
I really don't like her too much.

Halloween Role Model

2011-10-31T09:21:00.003-04:00

As is October 31, it was only fitting that today's set of Listicles be inspired by this great holiday - Halloween!

The world appears to have clear distinctions in terms of Halloween excitedness. From what I gather, in my 33 years of life, most find this day to be tolerable at best. They find a costume for the kid or kids or self, grab a few bags of candy, mainly the stuff they want to eat (or stuff they won't eat) and tolerate the trick or treating, Halloween decorations, and parties. Almost as a gateway to Thanksgiving and Christmas.
These are the folks with the jack o'lanterns on the porch a few days before and maybe a couple of stray cobwebs and skeletons for good measure.
There are those that hate it. The ones that keep their porch light off, and hide in the back of the house as the kids come round.
Add in those that don't celebrate for religious reasons and there are a few left.
The upper echelon of Halloween celebrants. Those that meticulously plan, decorate, craft, and scavenge to make the 31st of October awesome. Their houses look as if Halloween vomited over their front porches and yards. Their candy selection may include full size bars, and their costumes rival those of a Broadway performance.

Growing up, my mother was of that upper level.
Halloween was her day. Our costumes, her obsession from the beginning of summer through the town parade the week before. She took it seriously, thus leaving an indelible mark on my soul and causing terrible self doubt and disappointment as I dressed Mo in that first Halloween costume purchased at Old Navy. My Mom would have made something kick ass, because that's how she rolled.

Today, my list honors the ten best Halloween themes my mother used during my childhood. I would be remiss if I did not mention that she took the art of family costume to another level, which may or may not have included borrowing other children to make her vision come to life.

1. Hershey's Candy

This was the first year my mother forayed into the art of family costumes. Meticulously, she crafted two brown and orange fabric into rectangles, effortlessly painted, and topped both with glittered top hats. Then using cardboard, more paint, and one silver tutu, she finished the pieces. In the end, my father and sister stood, with arms stretched wide as a Hershey's Chocolate Bar and a pack of Reese's Pieces. My brother dressed in a circular cardboard cut-out, became the piece of Reese's pieces with the bite out. While I, in silver from head to toe, became the candy Kiss.

The photographer from our local newspaper captured this shot and we were featured front page.

2. Liberty

As I recall our years of a family costumes, I often found myself the center of attention. This year was no different. Dressed in dyed green sheet from head to toe, and my face painted to match, I stood tall as Lady Liberty. My sister dressed in a red robe, mini glasses, white bonnet and small flag with needle and thread in hand, became Betsey Ross, while my mom found an Uncle Sam costume complete with red and white striped pants and white beard for my little brother. At the time, he must have been about seven, which only added to the hysterical nature of the costume. My parents in their matching white wigs, my mom in a house coat fashioned to look like a dress with added ruffles to the sleeves with white apron complemented my father in his regal jacket, pants hiked up with high white socks & shoes, ruffled sleeves, and three point hat. Martha and George Washington in the flesh.

3. Wizard of Oz

It all started with the dress.

My mom's cousin was in the local high school pageant and for her talent portion, she clogged danced. Can't make this up. Her costume of choice, a dead ringer for one young girl swept away to the land of Oz.

With the dress only a bit big for me, inspiration had arrived. Finding red kitten heels at the local shoe store, my costume, complete. Using a pattern from Simplicity, my brother became the Cowardly Lion. Finding some old jeans and plaid shirt, she hot glued straw to create my father's Scarecrow. My poor, poor sister. In what seemed to be an unfortunate pattern, her costume became the most unfortunate to wear. A box the size of her nine year old torso, covered in aluminium foil covered her grey sweat suited body. On her head a makeshift hat from a silver funnel and her face covered in grey paint. A heart fastened to the front completed the look as the Tin Man. My mother, as the Wicked Witch, dressed in head to toe black, donned a black wig, then covered her hands and face with green paint. We followed that yellow brick road right to a victory in the family section of our town parade.

4. Peter Pan

Sure, me in drag as Peter was memorable, as was my school aged brother in blue footed pajamas, my sister in drag and top hat, and my mom out in public in her nightgown, as Michael, John, & Wendy. Those costumes were fine. We borrowed a friend's four year old that year as Tinkerbell. With brown hair and brown eyes, and a name that started with J, Jessica fit the bill perfectly. Hook made the show. In a wig similar to something Cher would wear, my father embodied Hook. With the pirate hat and hook on his hand, my mom transformed a pair of sweat pants, and a standard waiter costume into Captain Hook's pirate fare. Emblazoned with ruffles down the middle and sleeves, she added starts and buttons to the piece, and simply Pefection!

5. Mickey & Minnie

I was thankful that year that I was not the central character. My sister and brother became Minnie and Mickey Mouse with their white four fingered gloves, black ears, turtlenecks and leggings, and the black swim caps covering their heads. They were those two icons. Dressed in white turtlenecks and jeans, my mom and I had it easy. Using a marker, she had written "Annette" & "Sharon" arched across our chests, and a curly wig covered my own hair. I was Annette of course, and I needed the hair to match.

6. Alice in Wonderland

My sister stood front and center in this grouping as a blue look alike dress precipitated this theme. My brother became the Cheshire Cat, in a striped turtleneck and a pair of cat ears and nose. As the White Rabbit, I dressed in a white sweat suit. A puffy tail, hat with ears, vest with watch, and plastic teeth completed the look. My uncle Steven, an artist, drew the Queen of Hearts playing card on a piece of cardboard. Wearing all black underneath, her hair under a hood, crown atop her head, and her face painted white with ruby red lips, my mom was the Queen of Hearts.

7. Fairy Tale

My poor sister, another year where she was subjected to the worst costume.

Having been a junior bridesmaid in a wedding a few months before, my mom became inspired. The pepto bismal pink gown was exactly something a damsel in distress might have worn trapped in a tower, and with the addition of a the cone shaped hat, the damsel was born. In grey sweats under the plastic helmet and chest pad, my brother became the pint sized knight in shining armor. My mother and father, in their robes with the addition of holiday garland around their sleeves and down the center, and crowns atop their heads, became the regal Queen and King

As I mentioned previously, my poor sister, the victim of circumstance, donned the green dragon costume my mother sewed. As if the costume itself was not enough, she agreed to paint her face green and wore a plastic dragon mouth.

8. Devil & Angel

I think this was what precipitated my mother into making us dress together. For my brother's second Halloween, she found a pattern for a devil cape with hat at the local fabric store. Sewing it up rather easily, she realized that at his age, she would most likely be spending most of the evening carrying him. In response, she made herself the angel, wearing a white draped dress, wings, and halo.

She slacked that year for my sister and I. Perhaps it was our own insistence, but we wore borrowed costumes, I the tap dancer with faux eyelashes, and my sister the beautiful bird.

9. Addams Family

My parents were invited to a costume party, an adults only version. I remember my mom looking around our dress up box and closet in an attempt to find a cheap and quick costume pair for my dad and her. Finding a seventy's dark hunter green dress, something I can now imagine someone wearing to a disco, a long back wig, my mom became Morticia. My dad wore a suit from his closet and with his mustache, he was an easy Gomez.

10. Barbie Ballerina

There was a time where most Halloween costumes were made of plastic. One typically would sweat ridiculously in the jumpsuit as a plastic mask would cover one's face.
I don't remember my mom every permitting me to wear those.

In retrospect, I am thankful, especially as I look at the costumes she created over my childhood. However, at five, I wanted nothing more for Halloween then to wear the plastic Barbie costume I had seen at Jamesway store.

My mom compromised.

She permitted me the Barbie mask, as long as I wore the pink costume and tutu we had initially agreed upon.

Of course, I agreed and Ballerina Barbie emerged, ready for the Kindergarten Halloween parade.

I don't remember much of that year, except that I believe the mask spent most of the time off, then on.

Let me take these last words to thoroughly and thoughtfully thank my mother for all the time, energy, thought and love she put into those most memorable costumes. I am forever thankful for those memories. While you have left huge shoes to fill, I hope I am doing you justice.

Halloween 2011

Maeve in her DIY Glinda costume minus the crown & wand

Does this look familiar?
Learning from the best, I reused this costume from Mo's 3rd birthday party.
What a great $4 thrift store find, Grammie!

Happy Halloween from one of those who longs to be in that upper level!

My Life in Twenty-Two Moments

2011-10-27T16:21:00.003-04:00

I am thirty- three years old and in my life thus far I have:

1. received the swim team as a Christmas gift at five years old.

2. been known to subject my younger sister to a childhood filled with imaginative play where she was the pet. Think me: Annie, she: Sandy, me: Dorothy, she: Toto

3. had perfect attendance in Kindergarten.

4.. been chosen from the audience at the now defunct Sea World of Aurora Ohio to feed a killer whale a fish during our only trip to Ohio.

5. survived a nearly 24 hour car ride in a rented minivan with my parents, grandparents, sister, and brother at the age of twelve for first (and only) trip to Disney world.

6. stopped going to our local public library when I was a kid, mainly because I lost a book and thought I would have to pay an exorbitant amount of money in fines.
You know, like $100. It never crossed my mine that they would just fine us the cost of the Dr. Seuss book.

7. spent a week in Mexico living with a family after only taking 3/4 of a year of Spanish in high school. I still am not sure of most of what they said.

8, starting tossing the javelin, at 17, the last few months of my senior year in high school.

9. waded into the Mediterranean Sea during a long weekend in Spain.

10. met the love of my life sometime within the first month of college.

11. walked on to a Big East Division One swim team as a Freshman.

12. earned a partial athletic scholarship on that swim team.

13. received votes to become assistant captain my senior year of that very swim team.

14. stretched out my college experience an extra semester just for student teaching.

15. started my first real teaching job approximately forty-eight hours after finishing my student teaching.

16. forgone family tradition, to spend Christmas in shorts and flip flops in Key West, Florida.

17. exchanged wedding vows in a simple beach chapel on the eve of a near monsoon.

18. spent time intended for vacation in the hospital.

19. lived like an international rock star for seven days for our much delayed but anticipated honeymoon.

20. had to rename our honeymoon to a babymoon after discovering myself pregnant three weeks before departure.

21. endured the anticipation and heard "It's a girl" two times (on different occasions*) in the delivery room.

22. found my hopefully someday perfect happily ever after house after nearly 8 months and close to 80 house tours.

What are your 22?
What 22 things have you done in your life? Join up with Mama Kat.
* Reading comments, I realized intially this read as if I had twin girls. Nope, two girls just under 22 months apart. No twins here!

Evaluating Expectations

2011-10-26T09:26:00.000-04:00

Moira started nursery school this year at a small program in our town. Twice a week, for two hours and fifteen minutes she joins fifteen other three year olds. Together with their two teachers, they paint, sing, learn, and play. Throw in a snack and bimonthly time in the chapel, it's the perfect first school experience.
Having had worked in the early childhood level, in Kindergarten and first grade for nearly eight years before babies, I feel like I have a pretty good background in child development, and in turn, realistic expectations in relation Moira at school.
For the most part, the routine has been going well. The transition has been seamless, as she enjoys going each day. The teachers are lovely, and the class appears to starting to interact with each other. I assume by May, just as the school year finishes, she will master all their names, instead of referring to them as "I don't know" or "the boy with the Phillies backpack".
Perhaps, that's why yesterday surprised me.
We had our first field trip, and in keeping with the autumnal theme, we headed to a local farm for a early morning hayride.
Driving ourselves, as a way to keep costs a minimum, we navigated the directions and arrived at the farm. Minivans, SUVs, and school buses quickly filled the dirt parking lot, and we walked to the entrance. Meeting the teachers, I noticed a few other parents and children. Three other classes from the same school waited as well for full attendance.
Our good friend D arrived with her daughter A, and together we discussed the awkward directions and the cool weather that surprised us at our arrival.
Soon after, we were instructed to line up and walked toward the tractors and wagon. Hayride time!
Filling up the hayride, Mo snuggled into me as I leaned back onto the wooden side. The tractor started forward as the wagon circled the large apple fields. Coming to a clearing, a field dotted with orange pumpkins spread before us.

Leave it Moira, to run ahead into the field of pumpkins, as her classmates gravitated towards the same spot. Within minutes she found the most perfect one and with pride (and a little dirt) shared with me her discovery.

Climbing back into the wagon, we started back towards the farm. Sharing giggles with A, my goofy little girl was excited about the remainder of the trip.
As we readied ourselves to disembark, our teacher reminded us of the corn maze, play area filled with hay, and small animal area open for our enjoyment. Watching others leave the wagon, I notice they are walking away. Classes around us are joining together for a group photo.
Upon descending the stairs, I notice one of the teachers had wrangled many of the parents and children back. Bringing them into a group, the cameras and iphones begin snapping away at the adorable scene.
Again, the teacher mentions all the things for which to play, and dismisses the kids.
Off Mo runs, into the haystack maze, where many other children have taken to climbing on the top. My first instinct is to tell her to get off, but as I look around, it appears that running on top is acceptable.

D and I spend about twenty minutes with our girls and some other parents and children in this area. We make small talk with a few others as A & Mo ask to go somewhere else. As she runs into the corn maze, A, D, and I follow. About ten minutes into our trek, my phone begins ringing. It is Bry.
Mo's pumpkin is missing.
Someone stole her pumpkin from our front steps.
Luckily, we're at a farm so a new pumpkin is on our list to carve later with Popsie. (Who's home watching Maeve.)
After what seems like countless turns and a small bit of worry that we might be lost forever in the maze of corn, we find the exit. (Thank you D!) Walking around the other areas, we see parents and kids haphazardly. Other schools have arrived, filling the farm with an array of children and adults of all sizes.
As we walk to the farm store, I notice in the picnic grove, groups sitting down together for snack. Cider and donuts, or juice boxes and popcorn, as the groups sit, parents conversing in the background.
At the store we find a suitable replacement pumpkin $9 worth!, apple cider donuts without sugar Moira's request, strange I KNOW!, and a bottle of water. D buys similar stuff as we walk back to the picnic tables.
We spy no familiar faces at that point, and finding an empty picnic table, we sit and eat.
I expected other parent child duos to walk by, or to be sitting in the grove, but aside from one other mother and child, we see nothing.
After some time sitting and eating, I notice many of those around us are eating lunch. The clock reveals it's 11:20.
The trip is officially over.
There were no formal good byes.
No comments about Halloween on Thursday.
Nothing.
At first, I thought I was alone in my disappointment, however Mo revealed the same as she asked me to find her teachers and other friends. D confesses she too was disappointed.
Besides the hayride, the field trip was no different then one we could take on any weekday.
Sure, the kids from the class were all at the farm, but their presence made little difference over Mo's time at the farm.
I assume my definition of field trip needs to be altered.
Interaction amongst classmates appears to not be a necessity.
Providing snack for the group, again, not a requirement.
While I believe it to be a major oversight, I must understand a formal dismissal is not in the cards.
This field trip may not have been the learning experience I expected for Mo, but for me, I learned a lot.

Pregnant Pause

2011-10-24T09:23:00.001-04:00

Cookies Mom chose a wonderful topic this week for our Listicles. Her suggestion: 10 tips for new moms.
While this is a great topic, I decided to spin it a bit, and in turn, came up with

10 Tips to Survive Pregnancy

without causing physical harm to anyone

1. Practice the art of selective listening
Family and friends may suprise you with their comments. Lines such as "Wow, you're SO big!" and "Are you sure you're not having twins" when only 6 months pregnant will cause your blood to boil, or perhaps, throw you into an emotional tailspin.
This can be prevented, however, by learning the art of selective listening. When their mouth starts moving, tune out, think about your To-Do list or the chips (ice cream, pickles, or cream cheese bagel) you'll eat.
Nod, smile, then excuse yourself. Perhaps, throw in a belly rub or better yet, a small massage of your back and wail away.

2. Remember: People are morons.
For some reason, one's bump appears to be a magnet for crazy people. Strangers will come up asking to touch or perhaps, they will miss the ask part and touch without asking.
Not okay.
The acceptable response in those situations, is to ask to touch their belly or better yet, touch it too!
Want to really make it uncomfortable, start rubbing their belly.
The look of horror will stop them dead in their tracks.
Lesson Learned!

3. Give up the Guilt
You're pregnant, not sick or lazy.
There's something growing inside you twenty-four seven for forty weeks. That alone affords you the right to pass off responsibilty without feeling guilt.
Laundry, cleaning, cooking,
hah!
That's why there's the cleaners, housekeeping services and delivery.
(Or in some cases Mom.)
Delegate and take it easy.

4. Buy these Books

This will help you figure out what the hell is happening inside your body.

This will help you decide which brands to purchase for all those items your little lovie will need.

There's way too much and getting lost in Babies R Us is not fun, trust me.

Borrow this from the library

I really do not like Jenny McCarthy due to her autism perspective (not going to go there now) however this book is a light and funny read.

5. Embrace the Bump
Most people are self-conscious about dress. Camouflaging flaws with layers hide those "problem areas" and getting dressed daily can be a real pain. However, around 18 weeks when the bump appears almost overnight, dress to showcase it. I'm not saying go Britney on me. Keep the Daisy Dukes and midriff shirts in the drawer (or trash) instead wear some form fitting shirts to show off the bump. For most of us, it's one of the few times our belly is showcased.

6. Talk it Out
There most likely will be moments where you'll feel overwhelmed and emotional. The hormones racing through your body will only add to crazytown.
Find someone to talk it out with. Preferably, someone who's been pregnant.
Not that a never been pregnant person can't understand, but it's having someone who has done it, being able to sympathize without hesitation and often explanation there is a relief.

7. F--k with People a Bit
Maybe it's just my nature, but I like to play around with people and being pregnant gave me the best excuse. My personal favorite was the name game.
We chose on both occasions to refrain from sharing our name choices and we didn't find out gender.
Of course, that opened the gates to everyone and anyone offering their suggestions. So, I started giving out misinformation just ot mess with them.
"We're thinking Cordelia Francesca and Sven Oskar Oliver."
Some would try to hold in their opinions while others could not.
Faking labor pains also works well here, but please take into account your audience.
I would not do that with my sister, as I believe she would have called 911.

8. Keep a Food Stash
What's the only thing worse then a hungry baby?
The hungry mama to be!
Keep little snacks in the car, your work desk, and the kitchen. Or at the very least, have some change or dollar bills for emergency runs to Wawa (of course I'd mention that) or the vending machine.

9. Allow Yourself to Enjoy the Moments
Easier said then done when your ankles are swollen and the indigestion keeps you up all night! However, remember the kid will be out soon enough, 40 weeks isn't really that long in the scope of life.
For some, it's the chance to have boobs for the first time.
For others, it's the thrill of watching the baby under the belly.
While others, it's simply pregnancy itself.
It's frightening, amazing, thrilling, and exciting all at once.

10. Screw Everyone Else, and Do What's Best For You

Want a water birth and done the research, but your parents are upset?
Go for it. It's your body, birth, and baby.

Want to eat pizza on Thanksgiving because turkey gives you indigestion?
Do it.
Pizza is awesome any day of the week
.
Want to skip out on your brother's girlfriend's 30th birthday party?
Ultimate excuse, next to the actual baby, pregnancy gets you out of those events without much reaction!
Stay home, dress comfy, and watch tv or better yet, curl up and sleep.

Want to buy the $700 stroller because it's pretty?
Now, don't be a jackass.
Put it on your registry and let the other jackasses buy it for you!

If you're reading this and knocked up for the first time, congratulations and enjoy the ride!
If you're a seasoned mama, feel free to add your own advice in the comments.
If you fall into the other category, I guess you just wasted five minutes of your life that you'll never get back.
Sorry.

In honor of my favorite Preggos right now! You know who you are!

Doctor G

2011-10-22T23:25:00.001-04:00

"Are you sure we can park here?" I turn to Bry adjusting my dress in the car as we park. "The parking around here has so many rules." I add.
"Yes, we can. Don't worry, we have plenty of time" he responds as he successfully parallel parks.
The butterflies have taken refuge in my stomach as the motor stops purring. Removing the keys from the ignition, he tosses them into my lap.
"Put them in your purse, would ya?" he says, slamming the car door.
I can't help but notice the throngs of people passing on the street, as I step out of the car onto the city sidewalk. The need for directions is moot, as many are on the same pilgrimage.
Families walk, pride across their face as they pass the regular workday commuters consumed by cell phones and routine. I hold back the urge to grab a passing stranger and share my excitement and pride. The feeling is overwhelming, as we make our way down the cement sidewalk.
Thirteen years of primary schooling, then four years of undergraduate work, one year of post-baccalaureate, then four years of medical school and now here we are waiting for the stroll across the stage and the piece of paper.
This final act changing the Miss to Doctor.
Reaching the front of the Center, our final destination, I attempt to scan the crowd for a familiar face. Unfortunately, my vision is overwhelmed.
"Jac" I hear the disembodied familiar voice yell. "We're over here."
It is in these situations I am thankful for tall and big husband and he easily located my family. Walking forward, the crowd appears to part as I follow close behind.
"Can you believe this crowd?" my mom laments. Her anxiety reads across her face. "It's going to be hard to find seats."
"I'm not worried" I say, "We've got dad on our side!"
They laughs and nod in agreement, then continue to wait.
As the doors open and the throngs gravitate to the doors and stairways leading to the balcony.
"Keep your dad in sight" my mom insists, as he makes his way through the crowd. Easily he finds his way to the front of the crowd, going up the stairs, he disappears into the auditorium.
Holding on to each other, we patiently follow behind. Slowly ascending the staircase, and entering into the balcony,  my father's voice echos.
"Over here! I've got enough seats for us all". he screams across the collection of rows.
The heat rises up my cheeks as I navigate the rows to the seats my father has secured. Embarrassment is an emotion he seems to lack.
Sitting down,  I have the first opportunity to read the program. My fingers trace the embossed logo. College of Medicine Commencement the program reads.
Tears fill my eyes, as I open the beige pages. Following along the rows of names, I search. Listed under those who secured the requirements for medical doctorate, it is there in black and white.

My little sister is a doctor.

The graduation ceremony is a blur. During the various speeches and honorary doctorates I am thankful for the stash of mints held in my purse, and decide against a game of hangman with Bry at one exceedingly long and boring speech. After two hours, the announcement rings that hooding will begin, and a buzz overtakes the crowd. The time has arrived.
I steal a glance at my parents. Dabbing her eyes with a tissue, the tears well up easily today for my mother. The emotions are overwhelming.  While he finds himself in a precarious position over the side of the balcony. My father often attempts to find the perfect place for a photo, and today is no different.
Looking down into the sea of black robes, I spy her curly hair tamed under the black cap. She looks up to us, and for a moment, her smile meets mine.
Walking across the stage, her name is announced. Arriving before her professor, she turns and faces the audience. The green hood is placed over her shoulders.

This post was initially written June 2011, and edited today. The topic "Success" was the inspiration for this week's Dare to Share link at the Lightening and the Lightning Bug. Immediately, my mind returned to this moment, and the pride I felt as I watched my little sister graduate medical school.

Red Writing Hood: Fear

2011-10-21T08:31:00.001-04:00

U know what U did
now so does every 1 & ur mom 2
<3 twitter & FB 4 that!
biatch

What can be worse then those fears we have as adults?
Why, teen angst fear of course!
This post was inspired after reading my high school age cousins posts on facebook.
God, I hope that they know how to write a complete sentence with proper grammar and syntax!

This week, we invited you to compose a text–160 characters–that would either elicit or express fear.

So Thankful

2011-10-19T21:57:00.001-04:00

The table set.
Exquisitely decorated place mats, courtesy of Mo define each setting, as the anticipation of Thanksgiving dinner swirls with the scents from the kitchen.
Our tradition, bringing our respective families together for Thanksgiving is in full effect. They sit in the living room, waiting, snacking, and enjoying "not" cooking.
The turkey removed from the oven, resting under an aluminum foil tent. It's perfectly golden brown skin crisp and inviting sits on the counter.
The buzz of the timer rings, as cornbread stuffing with crisp bacon and sweet potato casserole are removed. After a few years of experimentation, the perfect balance of sweet potato, maple syrup and butter has been achieved, creating a deliciously yummy dish.
On the stove top, pots of green beans and corn simmer, as the asparagus with roasted garlic finishes it's roast. Taking the large pot of potatoes over to the sink, the water is dumped. Milk, salt, and an obscene amount of butter is added. Under the weight of the masher, the potatoes turn into a creamy velvety mash. The spoon meets mouth.
Perfection.
Twisting the handle, the jelled cranberries are poured into the plate. One of the few items not created from scratch. The twist and pop of the biscuits from their cylindrical container, the other.
Transferring the vegetables into serving bowls, the feast begins to take shape. Moving into the dining room, the bowls line the center of the table. Serving spoons are matched to their respective container.
The crowd begins to gather. Drinks in hand, as they find their seats, awaiting the main course.
I enter the dining room, pausing for a moment to look at those around the table. I find my seat, as he enters. Carrying the white tray, the turkey is presented.

Damn him.
Another fabulous Thanksgiving dinner under his belt.

Daddy teaching Mo the ways of the turkey

Turkey placemats care of Moira

Dinner

Linking up with Mama Kat
3.) Describe a meal your spouse actually cooks better than you.

Autumn's Arrival

2011-10-18T21:19:00.000-04:00

He walks over to the red wagon sitting on our porch. Grabbing the little blue rake, he insists on taking care of the leaves.
"I'll help you." he says. "You got a lot of leaves".
Our next door neighbor often comes to play with Mo and Maeve. Only six years, but in their eyes, an expert. The pride visible in his eyes as the parade follows.
Mo first, accomplished on the art of stair climbing she asks him of his intentions as she follows close behind.
Maeve reaches her hand to me. The stairs still a daunting task to her nearly two year frame.

Step, Step, Step, then hop.

Reaching the final step, her hand escapes mine, as she runs to meet the others.

He works intensely. His inexperience with the rake evident by the lack of piles. The leaves looking no different then when he began. They stand, watching.
In a moment, inspiration overcomes me.
"Watch the girls for a moment" I ask. "I need to go get something."
Grabbing the keys, I begin down the drive, to the garage. Unlocking the door, I find it easily. Balanced against the wall, the silver rake sits. Hibernating through the year, now with autumn's arrival, the rake is alive again, a tool of necessity.
Walking up the path, I hear the familiar voice before I see her
"What you doing mama? Whatcha got in your hands?" she asks.
Her blue eyes look up inquisitively.
"I'm going to rake the leaves." I explain.
Her giggle overtakes her body as she explains, "You no rake! That's daddy!"

Today, it is my turn.

Red, yellow, and orange overtake the green of the grass, as the weight of the rake falls into my hands.
The small, blue rake has been abandoned. Bodies race by in a whirl of laughter and shouts, as my own rake begins it's task. Creating small piles, the green is revealed again, occasional leaves fly by.
The pile emerges slowly. Quietly, they assess the scene.
Without reservation, they jump. Their smile and laughter fills the air.
I abandon the rake and join them.

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns. ~George Eliot

For you, what does autumn evoke?
Show us in 300 words or less

So Good it's Bad

2011-10-17T09:53:00.000-04:00

Wasn't that an intriguing title? I assume the mind is spinning over what I could be speaking.
Today is Monday, therefore Listicle day at The Good Life. This week's topic, chosen by the hysterical Jacqui at Chick Tuition is Guilty Pleasures.

I will admit, all week my brain has been simmering. Slowly thinking, pondering, this topic, mainly because I find little guilt in the things I love.
Alas, I arrived at the following list.

Pleasures

(Guilt may or may not be associated)

1. Ice Cream

On the boardwalk, I prefer soft served frozen custard from Kohr's - chocolate vanilla swirl w/chocolate jimmies. (If you aren't from the Philly area- jimmies are what others refer to as "sprinkles" such a girlie word)

At Duffer's challenge, it's the Fluffernutter sundae.

Yes. The whole sundae is mine. No sharing of the peanut butter ice cream, swirls of peanut butter & marshmallow, sprinkled with peanuts and the homemade pizzele on top.

Late night, it's my friends: Ben & Jerry.

Have you met their offspring?

Milk & Cookies and What a Cluster?

(At our local Wawa what a cluster is named Clusterfluff)

I apologize if you read this blog often. This post seems eerily familiar.

Yes. I just wrote about ice cream in the last post.

Can you blame me? It's good!

2. Wawa

There are convenience stores. From what I hear, 7-11 is okay and in Taiwan quite the local hangout*. Quick Chek is good for coffee in the early morning, while if one goes south of the Mason Dixon into Maryland Royal Farms pop up. I've heard of Cumberland Farms

There is nothing, however that takes the place of Wawa.

Nothing.

Need a hoagie at 4 am?

Try Wawa.

Milk for your breakfast cereal?

Ben & Jerry's after bedtime for the kiddos?

Sugar cookies that are super soft and sugary?

Soft pretzels? Iced Tea? Mac & cheese? Gatorade? ATM? Gas?

Coffee after Thanksgiving dinner, since the hosts (that would be us) don't drink coffee.

One word:

Wawa.

Mo is three. She knows only a few letters of the alphabet, yet she can read Wawa.
I don't know whether I should be proud or scared?

My friends outside of the Wawa universe. I am so sorry. My heart goes out.

Just ask anyone from the greater Philly area, and they'll let you know, how important Wawa can be.

Information gathered from my brother in law*

3. Pedicures

There was a time where I did not like people touching my feet. As a teen, I scoffed at the idea of a pedicure. Why would I pay someone to touch my feet?

I was so stupid.

Pedicures are pure bliss.

From the hot water bath, to the foot massage, to the attention spent on my feet that usually are so neglected, it's worth every single penny for that forty plus minutes of uninterrupted time.

A pedicure is complete pleasure, no guilt at all.

4. People dot Com

I place 100% of blame for my interest in those in Hollywood from my mother.

Growing up, some families had the nightly news on their television, my mom had the tv tuned into Entertainment Tonight. From a steady diet of People and those TV shows, I developed a fascination for this. People dot com somehow seems like the grown up version of those shows.
At times I embarrass myself with the things that have somehow made it into my long term memory.

I can't remember the formula for finding the area of a square but I can rattle off facts about real housewives, the actors in Lost, and the name Tori Spelling used for her third child.*

Hattie Margaret

5. Fluffernutter Sandwiches

A few months ago, I was obsessed with the idea of making homemade whoopie pies. It seemed that every site I visited had a recipe, and the photos looked amazing. I jotted down a recipe and at the grocery store picked up the ingredients, of which Fluff was one. I never got around to making the whoopie pies, however the Fluff sat on the shelf. One morning, I was out of cereal and imagine my surprise when I spied, Fluff in the cupboard. Paired with crunchy peanut butter on a potato roll and a cup of orange tea, that Fluffernutter sandwich was a delicious breakfast.

I admit it, for the next few days, that was my breakfast.

There was a bit of guilt with this one, especially as I ate it with two sets of little eyes staring inquisitively at me.

Mo asked for a bite and I said no.

Mama doesn't share her fluffernutter!

6. My Message Board

On facebook, I have 300 plus friends of which about fifty are women I have never met in real life.

I have belonged to a message board for nearly seven years. (I will not disclose my refuge, for fear of outing myself as a complete and utter mess.) I have offered advice, recipes, parenting guidance, and recommendations with a multitude of women whom I know mainly from screen names. I have purchased toys that were "must haves" Sophie the giraffe & Sing a Mi Jig , I have been updated on world events, Celebrated births, mourned losses, read reviews of vacations and gotten straight up advice from these ladies. Checking in daily, I find happiness in Friday pregnancy announcements, heartbreak over miscarriages, empathy over illness and diagnosis, and at time laughter at the opinions related to tv shows & field trips.

This place is my sanctuary in times of chaos and a place to brag over successes.

7. Pizza

Is there such a thing as bad pizza?

Even pizza deemed as less satisfying is still yummy.

A good slice of pizza covered with warm cheese still stringy, the aroma filling the confines of our home.

In our fifteen years of being together, Bry and I have lived together for ten. We are in our third and hopefully last place together. With each move to a new town, we were on a mission to find the best pizza. Until we found that, we truly didn't feel like we were home.

Sad?

Yes, but good pizza makes it worth staying in to eat.

8. The Amazing Race

This is by far the best reality show on television.

I know as you will see in entry #9, but this show is heads and tails above all the others.

Season to season, the pairs are extraordinarily casts as they weave in and out of airports and foreign countries, dealing with language barriers, sleep deprivation and crazy stunts like bungee jumping off a bridge in Australia or unrolling stacks of eight foot high hay for a clue in field in the middle of Germany. All while testing the relationship of the twosome, be it the married couple, or the friends/former showgirls, or the lawyers dating.

Each week is something new, and exciting as those lucky pairs race around the world.

In our house, the conversation has remained the same.

Who would be pair best made for casting?

Bry swears it would be either he & his brother, he & my sister (lawyer/doctor in-laws) or he & my father (in laws). The thought of that last twosome would be horrible, or brilliant?

I think my sister & I might make good for tv, though we might kill each other and neither of us know how to drive stick, yet?

9. Bravo TV

Andy Cohen, the Real Housewives, Rachel Zoe, Top Chef,

I could go on and on.

I am a closet Real Housewives watcher. I don't set the DVR, I mean, do I really have to? Bravo shows those episodes over and over, but those trainwrecks make really bad/good TV.

The new show, Mad Fashion, showing Chris March from Project Runway (formerly on Bravo) is ridiculously fabulous creating over the top dresses for his famous/nearly famous/ want to be famous clientele.

I'll even admit, I've watched a few episodes of the Millionaire Matchmaker. Enough to realize that Patty would tell me to lose a few lbs, get a tan, make up application, and wear a better bra.

Whatever goes on at the Bravo clubhouse has me hooked.

10. Monday Listicles

I'm not just kissing up to the talented and terrific Stasha, but I really love Monday Listicles.

These weekly prompts have helped me break out of some writing blocks and more importantly given me an opportunity to write a lot about my family, my culture, my traditions, and me.

A guilty pleasure?

Mostly no.

But pleasurable none the less.

Thank you Stasha!

Five Question Friday

2011-10-14T09:46:00.001-04:00

I was looking for something a little light & fluffy this week for inspiration. As I perused the blogosphere I came across Mama M at My Little Life. She hosts a Five Questions Friday link up, and this ladies and gentlemen was exactly what I was in the mood for, especially when I read the first question...about ice cream!
Consider me a follower!

1. Do you prefer your ice cream in a bowl or in a cone?

Difficult question.
I guess I'm a bit of an ice cream snob.
Soft serve? Vanilla chocolate swirl in a sugar cone with chocolate jimmies. YUM!
Hard ice cream? I prefer in the bowl, no toppings.
Late at night, trips to Wawa = The cardboard container of a pint of Ben & Jerry's to be the closest thing to heaven on earth.
Have you tried their Milk & Cookies flavor yet? Oooh, what about Clusterfluff?

Ben and or Jerry if you're reading, I love you!
Drop me an email: notwifezilla7@Yahoo.com if you're looking for a taste tester or want to do some sort of ice cream related giveaway.
I'm your gal!

2. What three things do you love the smell of?

Ivory Soap - Whenever I smell that, I think of my mom-mom. I wrote about her a few times, but most memorably in this entry.

Coffee - I love the smell. Unlike many in my extended family, I never liked it. I tried time and time again to start drinking it, but I just can't. Yuck to the taste, but yum to the smell.

My Kids - I remember reading a fellow blogger comment on that smell of her children, freshly woken from slumber. Grabbing Maeve from her crib, she burrows her face into my shoulder, turning her body into mine, as my lips kiss her head, I breathe her in.

3. Giftcards or no? (In regards to gift giving...)

There are people (Jeanna) who regardless of what they (Jeanna) tell you will never like what you purchase them (Jeanna).
Gift cards are necessary in those (Jeanna) situations.
I do try and purchase cards for places I know they shop, and I usually try to find some tangible little gift to go with it to wrap and then unwrap. Be it a bottle of wine or book, or something of that nature.

I personally love receiving gift cards too. Easier then returning things!

4. What sports did you play in high school if any and do you still play them?

If you read any posts on here before, you know I was a swimmer. While I became a serious one in college, in high school I was "eh". Here's a link for further explanation.
I joined the field hockey team as a freshmen with my friend Ashley. Most of the girls had played in middle school, thus leaving us in the dust. I stopped playing my senior year. I wasn't too good, and I don't think the coach liked me.
During my junior year, the track team was looking for people to do the stats. So Ash & I volunteered. It was okay, gave me something to do between winter and summer swimming.
The following year, my senior year, I decided to join the track team. Not as a runner, but as a thrower. The Field coach knew I was swimming in college and was terrified I would injure myself. He forbid me to pick up the shot put, though I think had I started earlier, I might have been okay at that. Instead, he suggested the javelin.
I was the second best javelin thrower on our team, out of five. Not bad for someone who picked it up a few weeks before the start of the season.
Looking back, I wish I would have tried throwing earlier.

5. Were you in band in high school? What instrument did you play?

No. No band for me.
My parents did push the piano during elementary then middle school.
I had no drive for it. My sister, the perfectionist was far more talented then I, and honestly I didn't really like it.
Now as an adult, I wish I had the opportunity to learn how to play the violin. I do know, however based on the week my sister took up saxophone, my parents probably didn't push string instruments as a survival strategy!

Back to Work?

2011-10-12T09:01:00.000-04:00

My resume has been updated. There have been discussions recently in our house over my return to the working world, and so a few weeks ago, I began the honest search for a new teaching position.
A visible break comes across from April 2008 until the present, leaving the inevitable questions:
Where have I been?
What precipitated the leave from a tenured position?
What have I been doing?

I can answer that in one word:
Motherhood.

However, during the interview process I do not think this will be an acceptable explanation.
Those three plus years will be explained away with excuses.
My husband accepted a new position which required us to relocate.
I became pregnant again.
We moved to this area.

Now, I am in a position to begin teaching again.
All of these things are true, but are excuses for this past three and half years.
Why did I give up tenure and a job I loved?

Because, honestly I found something I loved more.
My girls.

Now, I am scared, frightened, sad. Torn even, over whether this is the best decision for our family.
What sacrifices will we have to make with me working full time?
I was a teacher for nearly eight years working at the Kindergarten and First grade level.
I poured my heart and soul into every moment.
Getting there early, staying late.
I was vested, truly vested in my time as a teacher. Hours spent at home cultivating the perfect lessons and activities to motivate and educate. I remember feeling as if those students were my kids for the year, their happiness and success my responsibility.

Thus a problem has emerged.
That spark for teaching is gone.
That motivation that got me out of the bed every morning for my "kids" now has been transferred to my kids. I cannot fathom leaving my twosome for twenty other faces.
What will I miss?
What won't I see?
But the money will be helpful. In time for the holidays, the paycheck will make things that much easier. Then there's the personal fulfillment, walking back in the classroom, doing what I love and am good.

After a week of deep reflection, tears, and unfufilling sleep, a message greeted me yesterday for an interview for a leave of absence position. This opportunity brought the idea to reality. Discussions of daycare, finding balance, and the costs of my return peppered our evening conversation. The realization emerged simply.
I'm just not ready.

So the resume and cover letter sit, accumulating a little more dust. The time between my last position and the present continues to pass, making the possibility of return that much more difficult.
However, this is what's right for me, for our family, right now.

Branches on our Family Tree

2011-10-10T08:51:00.000-04:00

I think I may say this every week.
I love Monday Listicles!
And this week, I Love, Love, Big Squishy heart Love this prompt! I apologize if I write that every week, but when somethings good, it's good!
In case you are new here, or live under a rock, Stasha at the Good Life hosts a weekly link up with her famous Listicles. This week we're encouraged to write of "10 family tree related things".
If you know anything of my family in real life, you know we've got quite the family so you can imagine my excitement with this list!

10 Facts about our Family Tree

1. Our family likes to reproduce

Usually you hear adages about large Italian or Irish Catholic families, however in our case, I come from long lines of large Polish/Slovak families. My mom is one of six. My father is one of eight. Every one of my aunts and uncles except one has at least one child, most have two or three. My uncle Jim has seven.

Throw in my grandparents siblings, my parents cousins, and their children and what have you got?

Chaos!

No family related function is small.

Poor Bry when we were wedding planning.

2. Grandparents' marriage stories.

Legend has it, my father's parents HAD to get married. (wink, nod)

While my mother's parents eloped after only dating a few months.

Funny, all of their children had traditional weddings.

3. President Adams'

My mom swears my grandmother's lineage can be related back to John Adams & John Q. Adams. I have yet to see the paperwork on that one, however it makes for a good story.

4. Military Service

Both grandfathers served in World War II. Pop-Pop L as a cook in the Army, while Pop-Pop D was a seaman in the navy. Both my father and his brother, Paul were drafted into service during Vietnam. Uncle Paul followed my grandfather's footsteps and became a cook too. Somehow, someway, my dad ended up in military intelligence.

We still are trying to figure that one out.

5. Names

If you're pregnant, I've got a suggestion for a name. Go with Steven, Paul, Frank, Joseph, Kathy, or Marie.

In our family that appears to be the naming guidelines, hence Uncle Joe, dad Joe, Brother Joey, Uncle Jimmy, Little Jimmy, Pop-Pop Paul, Uncle Paul, cousin Paul Michael, Mom-Mom Marie, Aunt Marie, Pop-Pop Frank, Uncle Frank, Great uncle Frank, Cousin Kathy,cousin in law Kathy, & great cousin Kathy.

Then there's the Steve conundrum:

Uncle Steve, Great uncle Steve , Cousin Steve, Second cousin Steve, Uncle Steven (or Steve-out if you're Mo), and Bry's best friend who is Uncle Steve too.

And people ask why we chose Moira & Maeve?

6. Small Town Ties

Both our families have very strong and deep ties to my hometown, as both sets immigrated here five generations ago. Our town, originally a steel town, gave refuge to a large group of Eastern Europeans. Lots of Slovaks- like both my grandfathers, a bunch of Poles- like Mom-Mom L. and then the Irish/Welsh mixes like Mom-Mom D.

7. My Parents Courtship

Baseball brought my parents together, so it only seems appropriate they are the Phillies fans that they are today.

My dad coached Babe Ruth baseball and had both his youngest brother and my mom's middle brother on his team. My mom, being nearly 8 years younger would go out to the field to watch the games and would swoon over my father. Eventually they started dating and the rest is history.

Family legend has it that their wedding reception, the last to be hosted at the Slovak Club, was wild and crazy.

8. Teaching & Health care

These professions are prolific in our family, and not just for the woman. Besides myself and my brother, there are three other members with teaching certification, while nursing has been a field that at least five close relatives have chosen, one cousin is a respiratory therapist and then, of course, there's my sister, Auntie Doctor G.

9. The Traditions

I have mentioned before that there are quite a number of Polish/Slovak traditions that have been lost over time. Mainly as the generations have passed, so has our ability to speak the native tongue. Except of course, for a few choice words. My girls now know two polish words: that for butt & sit.

Really what else do you need?

10. Our Story

I met someone from "elsewhere", which seemed to expand the family tree. We chose not to place our roots in my hometown.

We're crazy like that.

Now, all these stories from above are being mixed and melded with Bry's family tree to create our own tree. Those stories, those roots will have an important part as will those stories Bry shares, giving our girls their own unique family tree. As greater cultural mutts then I, they've got a lot of learning to do!

Alma Mater

2011-10-09T09:19:00.001-04:00

"Are we there yet?" her voice rang through the minivan.
I took another glimpse out the window. The scene looked familiar, as we made the left at the stoplight. Looking down the large hill, the village (really a downtown) laid before us.
It looked the same, yet quickly as we passed, we noticed the differences. New restaurants, stores and outdoor seating peppered the pavement. Familiar sites were there too. The drug store, the Indian restaurant which hosted the Halloween party where I was the farmer and he the cow, the pizza shop that delivered until 3 am, looked the same.
Imagines of that very first day quickly came to mind as the tall metal fence came into view. I could feel my heart skip a beat as we turned into the entrance. Fifteen years ago, I had sat in the back of my parents minivan, my belongings stuffed in all its corners as my anxiety was at a fever pitch.
The first day of college, seemed like lifetimes ago.
We were back.
There it was, the place we called home for four (and a half) years.
College, a place like no other.
An alternate reality, for those lucky enough to partake in all it's splendors.
College; the bridge between childhood and adult responsibility.
College, the place where I feel I found myself (and a husband).
College.
As we pulled into the incredibly tight parking spot, I looked around as did Bry. It looked surprisingly so similar. The dorms stood tall, overlooking the parking lot, as Bry unloaded the double stroller. I watched as a father carried a case of water for his daughter down the path to the dorm. They engaged in some conversation over their respective shoulders. The scene could have been my father and I a few years ago, I thought and then, a shiver overcame my body as I thought that in fifteen years, this scene could be Bry and Moira.
"Is this it? Is this your school?" Mo asked as she climbed into her seat. Her voice regained my attention.
"Yup." I said, "This is Mommy and Daddy's college."
Attaching the straps to Maeve, I attempted to point out our surroundings. As Bry pushed, I began marveling to Moira. Informing her of the dorm that was Bry's home for three years, the library, the cafeteria, but it fell on deaf ears.
"Them got a bouncy?" she asked.
"Don't you want to see some more of Mama's school?" I pleaded.
"No." Her response short and without contrition. "Them got a bouncy? I LOVE bouncies."
And so we headed to the field house for the bounce house and other kid friendly activities.
Meeting up with a few friends over our trip, we all agreed somehow, returning here brought memories to the surface. It felt so similar, it was still the same in many ways, yet it had all changed. It was the same but yet so different.
Kegs and red plastic cups had been replaced with diaper bags and sippy cups. Walking leisurely with arms intertwined across the green now involved strollers and threats of time out.
Perhaps, the school was the same and it really was us that had changed?
Returning to the pool was the reunion I looked forward to the most.
The smell of chlorine hit our faces as we entered.
Arms and legs splashed about as they finished their practice for the day. Moira's eyes were as large as saucers, as the enormity of the natatorium stood in front of her. Diving boards, lane lines, and starting blocks abound.
I found her place of interest.
For me, the pool, this pool was sacred ground. I had spent the most time during my tenure here, so sharing it was so personal.
The crystal blue water turned calm as the swimmers returned to dry land. A few girls came over. Introducing themselves as two seniors and sophomore, bits of nostalgia floated to the surface. With her little hand in mine, I introduced Mo. Gushing over her cuteness, I quickly offered my warning.
"Enjoy your time, every little moment here," I begged. "It will be over so quickly and you'll be wishing for one more night."
They giggled as they walked away, perhaps making light of my plea to each other, or maybe discussing their plans for the evening or lunch.
It was then I introduced Mo for the first time to my pool.
We toured the deck, stopping to touch the water in the hot tub for the divers. Looking up, she gasped as I pointed out the 3 meter diving board, and asked to bounce on the 1 meter. She laughed at the pirate face on each starting block, and then told me the numbers as they increased on the digital pace clock. Rounding the corner, she seemed honestly interested and intrigued, and I couldn't have been happier to share my place, my history with her.
Not soon after our pool visit, we attempted a viewing of a production of the Wizard of Oz unsuccessfully and then arrived at the book store minutes after closing time. It seemed a good time to end our return.
We returned home.
Sitting down to dinner that night, Mo looked up to me and asked, "Tell me about your swimming pool, mama." A smile came to my face as I recalled my memories of the pool.
I guess our trip was a success.

Conjure

2011-10-04T12:23:00.001-04:00

His hand reaches out to mine.
His embrace so familiar,
So strong.
Into his arms I melt.
For the moment, nothing else matters.
With each breath, I find my calm.
The hurricane continues around me,
But shelter, his gift to me.
My mind finally abandons the turmoil
And I let go:
The sadness,
The hopelessness,
The fear.
In its place he gives me hope.
My rock.
My love.

This week Galit asked to conjure something. An object, a person, a feeling, a color, a season- whatever we liked keeping it under 100 words. Not sure about the word count, but this is exactly what I needed.

Summer Rewind

2011-09-26T09:37:00.002-04:00

The leaves are beginning to turn. Shades of red, orange, and yellow highlight the surroundings as autumn slowly creeps in. The days feel shorter, as the darkness rolls in earlier and summer becomes a beloved memory.
Stasha at the Good Life inspired us this week to compose our Monday Listicle with Summer as our topic.
So without further adieu,

Ten Battles of the Summer of 2011

1. Our Sanity vs. The Fresh Beat Band in Concert

So technically, the concert at Sesame Place starring Kiki, Shout, (new) Marina, & Twist was at the tail end of spring, but that show in the middle of May really started the summer for us. We waited an hour and half in the drizzle, and then another half hour in our seats. Maeve tethered to the stroller attempting to free herself from the restraints, while Mo asking over and over, "Is it time yet?". Our sanity on the brink. Thankfully we came with reinforcements. Two juice boxes, a zip lock baggie of craisins, a plethora of goldfish crackers and a few lollipops later:

Front Row seats!

Do you see that pigtailed girl jumping in front of the stage?
Yes, that's Mo.

And that wait?

, Worth. Every.Single.Minute.

2. Maeve vs. the Grass

A love/hate relationship evolved with Maeve and our backyard. She loved to run, walk, and play, but the moment she lost her balance and her hands would come near the grass, she would cry. Her hands would tighten into little fists, and she would look up, as if she was in pain. I swear I could hear her subconscious yelling "mommy, please!". Luckily, Maeve's fear of the grass diminished by July, but it made for an interesting beginning to our summer.

Everything is fine until....she falls!

Look at that face!
Complete and utter disgust

3. Mo vs. the Roller Coaster

There is a small roller coaster at Sesame Place. A roller coaster safe for children three and up. With a smile on her face, and a skip in her step, Mo walked through the metal turnstile and onto the Vapor Trail. She seemed happy, eager and excited. She laughed as we took a moment to smile at the camera. We repeated this adventure two more times on two separate visits.

Imagine my surprise when, on our fourth trip she suddenly was terrified.

"I no like the roller coaster mommy." she said as the tears fell.

I don't get it?

I'd love to be able to share that eventually she overcame this fear,

but unfortunately that never happened.

She says, "Next year, when I'm four I'll ride it."

I'm holding her to it, cause Mama loves her roller coasters.

I know. I know.
I'm way too excited while Mo looks terrified.

4. Maeve vs. The Sprayground

This summer had it's ungodly hot days. We sought refuge a number of times at the sprayground. Her imagination in full swing, the sprayground park became Mo's private Wipeout arena. She dodged. She ducked. She covered. She weaved. She had to be carried out kicking and screaming.
Then there was Maeve.
Nothing could get her to like the sprayground.

Mo with a smile pasted on her face

No tears on trip 3, as long as she was in my arms

5. Jackie vs. The Heat

It is widely known that I don't like winter. Snow is not nice. While sweaters and warm coats are nice on a crisp fall evening, I hate the gloves, hat, and boots that become necessary in the Northeast when winter storms have hit. I formerly would refer to myself as a summer girl.
Then this past two summers happened.
The heat kicked my ass.
Perhaps it's the lack of air conditioning, or the fact we had to make numerous treks to my parents house a.k.a. Summer Camp for relief, but this summer filled with quite a few days where the temperature hit near 100* was enough.
In the heat's defense, it did provide opportunities for us to visit the local sprayground, YMCA, playdates with one of our favorite families, and spend quality time with Gram & Popsie.

Dinner at Gram & Popsie's during one of our many stays

6. The Kids vs. The Strawberry, Cherry & Blueberry Patches

D and I thought it would be a great idea to take our four little cherubs on a trip to the farm to pick strawberries, cherries, & blueberries.
In the end, it was a massacre.
Read about it here.
I swear the farm will never be the same.

After three hours, this is all we came home with

7. Jackie vs. The Fudgie Wudgie Man

We are very blessed.
My mother in law lives on the outskirts of the beach. At least once a week for the majority of July and August, we head down. Upon arrival to her home, the girls consume a quick snack, we change and apply ample sunscreen, pack back into the car, and head to our favorite beach. This year, my girls became true beach bunnies. Digging in the sand and jumping waves like pros.
The voice could be heard in the distance. He quick cadence, "Ice cream sandwiches, Water Ice, Popsicles" filling the salty air with promises of sweet, cold treats.
I made the mistake of telling Mo about the Fudgie Wudgie Man.
"He's a man who brings a bunch of treats to the beach for people to buy and eat".
Finishing that sentence I knew there was no hope.
My mother in law then continued that while growing up, she always carried money to the beach for Bry and his brother to get their treats.
The Fudgie Wudgie Man became a integral part of our summer conversation.
Mo repeatedly asking with each trek to the shore, "Will HE be there?" and "Do you have money?"
Oh, Fudgie Wudgie man you won this battle!

Her face after her frozen Dora pop

8. Jackie vs. her bathing suits

I have mentioned before that I have some issues with a specific part of my anatomy. My belly area is a hot mess. (Sorry Aunt Nancy Jo, but it is!) If you saw it, you would agree. Short of a tummy tuck, I doubt there is much that can be done for this extra skin.

I brought a fabulously cute tankini from Athleta, thinking the two pieces would camouflage the area.
It does, as long as I don't move or if I'm sitting.
However, that's not happening too much when I'm at the beach with two kids under four.
The only one piece I own, was okay. My boobs were a little squished (not the good way) and the pattern not my favorite, but it worked better then constantly picking up my bottoms.
Next year, I WILL find a good fitting one piece that keeps things in check.

There is no need for a photo.

9. Moira vs. Domonic Brown, Philadelphia Phillie

The poor guy never had a chance.
It was photo day. Citizen's Bank Park was filled with fans and phanatics. Cameras in hand, they called out his name, hoping for that one on one picture. He came over just as she finished with her beloved Chase Utley. Popsie called out his name "Domonic, my granddaughter's a huge fan". Gingerly he hands the small three year old over to the professional ball player and

she loses it.

Poor Mo, and poor Domonic.

10. Our Kitchen vs. Our Bank Account

There were quite a few crazy days this summer. This day was one I'd love to forget.

First, we realized the dishwasher was no longer doing it's job. Upon ordering the first stainless steel appliance, two more unexpected issues came up.

Pretty, Stainless, & Functional
Who knew this was an option?

The refrigerator went first. When you notice the quiet buzz seems to be more quiet then buzzing, you know something is wrong. Four hundred plus dollars for repairs, dumping food, and five days later, it was fixed.

Just in time for our stove to break.

I cannot make this up.

Having gas, we were able to use the stove top with a lighter, but no oven.

Another four hundred dollars, and five days later, our stove was back.

Honestly, you can't even tell it's fixed.

The only thing that made this worse was when it occurred.

Those days leading up to my thirty-third birthday were quite memorable.

In retrospect, this summer was quite a memorable one, and mostly for the good.

The Package

2011-09-21T08:43:00.002-04:00

It sits collecting dust I assume, on the top of the cabinet in our dining room. Wrapped in crayon marked paper, the Father's Day gift we will never be able to give.
I walk past it countless times during the day. Sometimes, passing without notice, other times my eyes fixate on it, and I pause.
Thinking of the "should haves" and "could haves".
The days leading up to Father's Day this past June, we prepared handmade gifts. for Bry and the grandfathers.
Entering Michael's we found the aisle easily. An array of t-shirts stood in nice piles before her. White, grey, yellow, blue, red, green, and black sitting in their size specific spots. Of course, without delay she reached for two red shirts, her favorite color for some time. Placing them into the cart, I turned my attention to the variety of fonts available of iron-on letters.
Unfortunately my procrastination in purchasing the items led to a depleted supply. Instead of uniform color choices, I was forced to be creative. In desperation, I was able to create a black & white pattern. Two P's, One O, One S, One I, and One E for Popsie, and Two D's, One B, One U, and One Y for Buddy. Luckily, the fabric paints had not been picked over. I decided on a variety pack of squeeze bottle paints and placed them into the cart.
I remember vividly taking the items to check out. I looked to Mo. Her smile gleamed as she eagerly offered, "I cannot wait to make these shirts for Popsie and Buddy! Them are going to LOVE them!"
I agreed. It would be the perfect gift for the two grandfathers, personalized t-shirts with hand prints of their two granddaughters.
Just perfect.
We returned home with our supplies and I went to work. Dusting off the iron, I easily attached the letters to the t-shirt. Waiting for the little hands to mark below.
Upon waking from their nap, we eagerly worked. First painting Mo's hand with black paint, then carefully placing it on the red shirt. Slowly removing the hand, her print perfect. We repeated the process again on the corresponding shirt, and then repeated the process with Maeve.
The shirts were completed with the addition of the girls' names under their respective hand prints.
The days passed, and Father's day was approaching. It was time to wrap the gifts. Giving the girls crayons and old paper made specifically for wrapping valuables during moving, they created personalized wrapping paper.
Their hand strokes evident as I wrapped the shirts for Popsie and Buddy.
Father's Day arrived.
At a small picnic at my brother's house, Mo eagerly offered her gift to my my father. It was just as I had imagined. Meticulously, he unwrapped the paper, mentioning to Mo the beauty of her art work. Finding the t-shirt, he held it up for all to see. She looked to him, jumping up and down with excitement. While sitting in the living room, he removed his standard Phillies shirt and replaced it. The new red Popsie shirt displayed for all to see.
He wore the shirt for the remainder of the picnic, making comments throughout the day about it to both Mo and Maeve.
We had initially planned to visit Buddy the following weekend. But as is customary in life, things come up and so the package sat on our table. The shirt hidden beneath it's paper covering.
As his health made a turn for the worse, a visit with the girls was out of the question.
We just assumed, like always, his health would improve and we would have the chance to have that visit.
But it never did.
I wish he had never gotten sick.
He missed out on so much.
He never really got a chance to know my kids. He never got a chance to run around the dining room table, or sit on the couch and read a book. He never was able to walk the perimeter of our property with Bry, examining the exterior of the house nor offer advice on old house maintenance.
He never got to unwrap that package.
And so that package remains.

Wish for the Kids

2011-09-19T09:35:00.001-04:00

Monday = Fun Day over at the Good Life with Stasha and her famous Listicles.

This week's theme:

10 things you wish kids could do like back in the day

1. Play without Play dates

We would have friends come over, but I don't remember the term "play date" ever being used. We would just go outside and play. Most of the time, we would meet up with other kids in our neighborhood, sometimes in a backyard or the neighborhood playground. There would be little interaction with our parents until one set would remind us it was time to eat, or come in for bed.
What a foreign concept today, lettting the kids just play without structure or formality.

2. Learn how to lose

There weren't any trophies, ribbons, or awards just for finishing. If you won, you won- You got the ribbon! The big trophy was yours. If you lost, then you licked your wounds, maybe wiped away a few tears, and got on with it. In those instances, the losers learned how to lose gracefully, to accept (eventually) that someone or some group was that much better. The winners got to enjoy the spotlight.
Everyone doesn't win, and that's okay.

3. Lose the plug

The Nintendo NES game system came out in 1985. (link) For years, we begged my parents to have a gaming system. They refused. Christmas lists and repeated mentions that others had it, did nothing. Left to our own devices, we played. Life went on. Then in 1989, our school district went on strike. My parents finally budged as the thought of an extra month of us home, without the local swimming pool as entertainment, scared them.

When I taught a special education Kindergarten, I remember quite a number of parents commenting on how well their five year olds were on the computer or their personal gaming system. The speech therapist I was working with at the time made a comment which to this day has been influential in my own view of parenting.
For every minute a child spends engaged with a computer, gaming system or television, that's one less minute they have to engage with real people and learn socially acceptable behavior.
So true, so very true.

4. Know our history

My family has been in the United States for five generations, thus many of cultural celebrations have all but disappeared. While I don't have memories of my great grandparents, the older members of our Catholic Church hold a special place in my heart.
I grew up in a Catholic town. There were five Catholic Churches within five miles, and each had a ethnic group primarily associated with it.

My Church was Slovak.
Which was perfect, as I was a Slovak, Polish, and sliver of Irish/Welsh kid!
On Christmas and Easter, the older members would always sing at least one hymn in Slovak. Easter baskets were brought to the Church to be blessed, with its contents for Easter dinner inside. Occasionally, a prayer or some phrase would be overheard. Yearly Church picnics were filled with piergoies, stuffed cabbages, & haluski.

Over time, the cultural ties to our Slovak heritage became less and less evident, as these members passed.

With new membership, the retirement of the Pastor, the Church is no longer the same, and gone are many of those traditions I held dear.

5. Sit for three hours worth of Saturday Morning Cartoons

I remember going to bed Friday night and being excited for cartoons on Saturday morning. Sitting in the couch, three hours of cartoons were at my disposal and then the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling, GLOW. There was no DVR to tape episodes of Backyardigans or Fresh Beat Band, and no Sprout or Nick Junior to pump twenty fours straight of kid friendly fare across to the masses.

We had three hours on Saturday. That was it.

6. The Vastness of the World

I may wax nostalgic as I write of how large I thought the world when I was a child. But I did! I thought Florida was so far away, and the thought of another country, like Australia or Taiwan, ridiculous. We never called my mom's friend in Australia because the phone bill would be crazy. Now, with the Internet, cell phones, and Skype, it's easy to communicate.
The world seems that much smaller.

7. Eat

When we moved into our new house when I was going into fifth grade, our next door neighbor brought over a plate full of cookies.
"They're all organic" she proudly informed, "no processed food for us". The smile gleaming as she continued. Informing my mother of the dangers of most of the food we purchased at our local supermarket, my mom nodded along. I think she may have thrown in an eyeroll when the neighbor wasn't looking.

It was 1989. "Organic" was not part of our family's vocabulary. Taking a bite of that cookie, I almost choked. My sister and brother's responses were similar. After our shared complaints, the cookies ended up in the garbage. Knowing now what I do about organic, I can only imagine the price tag for that dozen?

We ate without worry of high fructose corn syrup, or pesticides, or arsenic in our apple juice.

8. Know the Extended Family

I grew up in the same town as virtually all of my family. My father had seven brothers and sisters, and my mom had five, all but one lived within a twenty minute car ride. Our family tree was expansive to say the least, and we were close. Great Aunts and Uncles around every corner. The running joke in my circle of friends was that no place was safe in our town, because we were bound to run into one of my relatives. It seemed as if everyone was a cousin. We had large family picnics three times a year, and most attended our Church. As a child I knew all these faces.

My girls don't have that.

Many of these faces, these relatives, they only see once or twice a year and so they're virtually strangers.

While I cannot imagine living in my hometown as an adult, I do wish my girls knew more of our family.

9. Girl Power

Where's Punky Brewster, Cyndi Lauper, & the Spice Girls when we need them?

10. Write

The beauty of a postcard, the heartfelt emotion put into a thank you note,

the seductiveness of a well written love letter,(maybe when they're older),

these things are slowly falling out of fashion.

The art of the pen and paper, replaced by the immediacy of email and texting.

Bring it back, I say! Bring it back!

Plus, the post office will thank you for the work.

Sweet Dreams

2011-09-16T09:08:00.001-04:00

Last night I had a dream.
I was back at my school. Teaching, I assume, however I don't remember any children's faces. I looked to the row of windows, to the table there sat my friend Kathie.
She had been my classroom assistant for a number of years.
We had a ball together, sharing the ups and downs of teaching Kindergarten and First Grade together. She was so much more then just my assistant. She was my confidant, offered an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on. She gave me the confidence through her words of wisdom, on the days when I needed it. She would share stories of her four daughters to lighten my mood. We shared a lot in that classroom, tears and laughter. Most days, we could just look to each other and without a word, she knew what needed to be done.
She was fabulous.
She passed away after a courageous fight with breast cancer a little over two years ago. Gone much too soon.
I miss her and I know I am not alone.
In my dream, she was there, healthy. Her hair shoulder length and the natural shade of reddish blond many seek to recreate with a bottle. She was laughing, throwing her head back and smiling. The way she used to when something would amuse her. She was leaning against the table, as I stood in the front of the classroom. The way we usually would start our day. I remember smiling back and waving.
My memory of this dream is fleeting, only lasting a few moments, however, waking up my mind immediately went to Kathie. Seeing her again made me think that wherever she is now, I hope she is at peace and happy. I hope she has been returned to her former fabulous self, with a smile on her face.
I still miss her.

Moments

2011-09-15T15:20:00.000-04:00

Once in a while, there are moments in time where I wish I could press the pause button.

Where everything is absolutely perfect.

Moments that are luckily captured on film,

To cherish and enjoy.

To look back longingly at the smiles and happiness.

Those happy moments make it so much easier to deal with...

these type of days.

Join Shell & I as we share our Magic Moments over at Things I Can't Say

School Days

2011-09-13T21:01:00.001-04:00

For days she asked, when she could go,

Off to school like a big kid, to learn, to grow.

A backpack she picked, red and grey,

Waiting patiently for that first day.

She told me she'd miss me, with a smile on her face.

I told her no way, she'll love that place.

We picked out her dress, with loving care,

That morning I fought tears as I put up her hair.

With a smile, and a giggle and a hug, she turned.

She was ready to go, ready to learn.

With a wave of her hand, up to the classroom she went,

And like that all my worry, my fears were all spent.

All smiles, and giggles, not even one tear,

Here's to a fabulous and happy first school year!