Palm potting in the moonlight

Oh... it did it again.... put everything aside until the proverbial later, and then decide that I must make a gigantic gesture to try and rectify the situation so that I may give myself solice when it doesn't work out... and what am I referring to in that incredible long run-on sentence with big fluffy words? Well if you have hung on this long... follow me to the next paragraph.
Several months ago my sister blessed me with a ton of beautiful plants that she had obtained at a vendor show she put together for work. It was great. I would love to tell you their names but I can only some it up with 2 palms, 2 rose bushes, a bush that kinda looks like mexican heather, 2 spikey long leafy things with a big bloom out the center, and 2 roundy leafy things with blooms out the center. Great stuff. - pretty stuff - stuff I have no idea how to take care of, but they look great under my patio. She told me that I was going to have to re-pot them and I said great no problem. That was approximately 6 weeks ago. They sat in a beautiful little pile and slowly wilted day after day as I walked past them morning and night on the way to and from the car.
Now I wasn't exactly cruel. At one point they looked near death, I watered them and made a promise that the following weekend I would give them their new homes. That was about 3 weeks ago.
Well of course they were giving me the hospice look again yesterday and I knew that a big cold front with freezing temps was on the way, so I made a trip to my mother's to pick up some empty pots and headed to Walmart for some dirt... at 9 o'clock at night. Of course the garden center was closed, so I place five 40lb bags of dirt in my cart and head to the checkout. It is around this time when I realize... it's pretty quiet in the store, Mike's got the kids in bed already, and there's a couple of things I could pick up. So I proceed to (in work clothes and heels) push 200 lbs of dirt all over the mega Walmart picking up make-up, gifts, cornflakes, marshmellows and green food dye for cookies.
I get home to Mike cleaning the kitchen. I take a few bites of the dinner he is currently cleaning up and head to the bedroom. I return with grungy clothes on and start to head out the door.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I am going to re-pot my plants…”
“It’s after 10:30?!?!”
“I am NOT going to lose those plants… they are worth a lot of money and it is supposed to freeze tomorrow night”
“WHAT THE….. whatever.”
“Are you coming?”
“I am cleaning the kitchen. I am going to clean the kitchen. I am going to finish the list of things I started today and I am not moving until I finish them.”
“Okay…I’ll start without you”
It is the last sentence that could very well have ended my marriage last night, but it didn’t. About 15 minutes later he wanders outside, pissy but willing. He gets his powerful light he uses in attics for work and proceeds to help me hoist 200 lbs of dirt into pots to save dead plants.

I love that man

We get it done, he cleans up and heads to the door and I turn in the opposite direction.

“What the hell are you doing now?”

“I’ve got to water them….”

“Goodnight…..”

“Goodnight!”

That's enough......

So I had a very full weekend. Up late on Saturday working on my friend Allison's drapes (they turned out gorgeous) and Sunday helped my mom prepare her house for my grandparents arrival this week. Very long hours but worth it.
This morning our ritual began as all mornings. Mike brought the boys into my bed to wake them/me up with some snuggle time. I get up, use the restroom and feel some pain. Ah hell.... I really don't care to get a bladder infection this week... mental note, stop for a gallon of cranberry juice to flush it away. Moving on with my day.... ouch.... damnit that hurts a little... I'm gonna lay on my heating pad for a bit before I get into the shower. Kiss husband good bye... ouch... what the hell... ouch... major ouch ... okay... constant pain. Not throbbing, not waves, but constant pain, front/back, up and down, constant pain. Now I start to get scared. The pain is getting worse and worse, I am at home alone with 2 small children. I call my mother, I'm crying partly because of the pain, partly because I am scared. Mom is on the way, call husband, he is barely out of the neighborhood, turn around and comes home.
Oh God, Oh God... what is this? Am I going to make it to the hospital? Should we call an ambulence... oh my God what is this pain?!?! I haven't felt this pain since..... oh shit.... since I was 8 months pregnant and got kidney stones.
We get the kids to school and me to the ER. Signed in, was taken to a room and had and IV within 15 minutes. First round of drugs, nothing... I am dizzy and sleepy with a pain scale of 10 and vomiting. Second round of drugs finally gave me enough relief to get a CT scan. Sure enough...kidney stones. Doped me up, wished me luck and said it will pass within 2 days. Came home and slept ... all day.... at one point Mike brought me a sandwich which I thought I was awake enough to eat, but then I woke up an hour later with food in my mouth and the rest of the sandwich in my hand.....and now I am going to go sleep some more.

Happy Birthday, Max!

My dearest Max,

My baby, my first, my angel.... words will never describe my ever growing love for you. I never thought it was possible for me to possess such an undescribable love, as my love is for you.

Four years ago, you came into my life after a long hard night. You amazed everyone with your ability to hold your head up when you were only hours old. You balled yourself up like a turtle and nuzzled into your daddy's neck. You forever changed our lives in one brief moment and for that I will be forever grateful.

Three years ago, you were a man on the move. You were not quite walking yet, but you would be in a month or so. You were more interested in how toys worked, not necessarily what they did.

Two years ago, you were becoming a big brother. You were so excited. You truly believed that Mommy and Daddy made Ben just for you. It never occurred to you that you should be jealous or upset because there was a new baby in the house. You loved your new big boy bed and zoomed through the house pretending to be an airplane.

One year ago, you were shaking off your toddler years and comfortably settling into your big boy status.

This past year you have amazed me with how quickly you learn things and how you challenge yourself to do more. This is the first time when I have held my breath, stayed a few steps behind and watched you soar. Climb the tallest heights, take off on your own on playgrounds and let you stay up and watch cartoons while Daddy, Mommy and Ben take naps. You love, LOVE, L-O-V-E gymnastics, you love to dance, sing, and regularly recite the dialogue with your favorite movies. You teach me sign language, you regulary inform me of the events of the day, and are more than willing to assist me with disciplining your brother. You love to play on the computer, build things with your legos, and convince your brother to play games with YOUR rules. You go to bed reading books, and wander into my arms every morning for snuggle time before Ben wakes up. You know what you want and are not afraid to tell me - "I want bread with no skins, turkey, cheese and no white stuff (dressing)"- and with this strong mind comes very strong will which tests Mommy and Daddy's boundaries daily if not hourly.

Your hugs and kisses are unannounced and full of real emotion. Every "goodbye" comes with a hug, a kiss and a "I love you, I'll see you later, I miss you already" (which you recite with me everytime)... and every "hello" comes with excited squeals and a running hug which almost knocks me over.

You are such a big boy, you out grow your clothes in one laundry cycle. Your favorite new thing is your new boots which you would wear with everything from jeans to shorts to PJs if we let you. You still have the same beautiful red hair that you had when you were born and we cannot go anywhere in public without one person remarking at how handsome you and your brother are.....

I love you, pumpkin...
Mommy

Ahhhh...the holidays....

I would like to thank the many comments in recent days... it is sad that we can't all be adults and have adult conversation, but most of you were well behaved.... and I really enjoyed finding all the new blogs from new commentors!!

So I was thinking of how my holidays were stacking up and I realized that for the last 8 weeks of the year...

I will let you all ponder the horrific thought that there are only 8 MORE WEEKS LEFT TO THIS YEAR!!!.

.... and I realized that I have something significant to do each and every weekend. It made me fell abundant, tired and dizzy all at the same time.

I have found a new sign of my age is calculating the time, energy, cost of the holidays in my mind rather than getting excited about Christmas lights and holiday cheer. I can literally feel my internal checklist going into over drive.

And I do it to myself.....I completely did this to myself. I got married in November because it would be "so great" to get married at the Holidays. I had my children weeks apart in Nov-Dec because it would be "so great" to be on maternity leave for the holidays. And now, I am dealing with birthdays, anniversaries, and holiday gatherings, as the cherries and nuts on my already over flowing ice cream sundae.

It's my own "rock hard, tastes good at first, but then gives you indigestion" fruit cake every year.

And yet.... the little "it's gonna be so great" holiday elf in me just won't stop jingling those bells. My Polar Express is pulling into the station and I am off to the North Pole, people! I am dressing my internal Grinch up in bling bling and headed to all events with holiday cookies in hand and tinsle in my hair. My children will wear matching outfits and my house will ooze with holiday spirit and cheer.

Bring it on, Christmas.... this turkey is already cooked and ready for the long nights of leftovers!!!

BRING IT ON!!!

Why I do not vote.....

Driving into work today, I was behind this heavy duty tricked out SUV with a big sign on the back:

Due to expected voter turnout
Republicans vote Nov. 7th
Democrats vote Nov. 8th

I kind of chuckled to myself and thought, sorry buddy.. I'm not voting either day!

I really hate that I am not voting. I want to. I want my voice to be heard and my vote to count, but it doesn't. I don't have a voice. I don't get one. All I get to do is pick sides. I don't get to vote issues. I get to vote on mudslingers and paper dolls. And even if I did pick sides, my individual vote doesn't count. The collective majority of my neighbors' thoughts count. Just because I choose a state, city, neighborhhood, and street to live on, doesn't mean I agree with everything my neighbors think. If I chose to live in a old or art driven part of town doesn't mean I am a democrat and just because I chose a neighborhood because of the elementary school doesn't automatically make me a republican.

Why can't I be for gay marriage and support the war in IRAQ? Why can't I support parental notification for underage abortions and support the choice for an abortion in itself? Why does it have to be red or blue? Why do we even have red or blue?

How can we come up with a system that tracks billions and billions of dollars down to the penny, yet we can't create a system where I get a choice, I get a vote, and at the end of the day 1 billion votes means 1 billion votes?

What the hell am I doing?

Ever heard the expression "jump and the net will appear" or "if you follow your passion, your true passion, doors will open for you that may not open for others"...?

I am trying to show some conviction. I am trying to create a forward motion that leads me in the direction that I think I am supposed to be going. I belive that the drum beat banging in my ears is God trying to tell me something... something very important.

I cannot shut up the inner voice competing with the drums. I cannot stop the.. who the hell do you think you are? You are barely surviving with what you produce now, and you think you can take a cut? You don't have the energy for your current life and this "new" life you want to create is going to expect more than you could ever imagine! You know you aren't going to be able to handle the bureacracy.... you are getting older now.. you are never going to make anything out of your life if you keep jumping from career to career.... you think you hold the aces... you think you can handle the pressure, but you just jump ship and move on when the cooker gets too hot... you created the pressure and drama in the first place.

shut... up.... SHUT UP.....S-H-U-T U-P...S-H-U-T U-P ...S-H-U-T U-P!!!!!

I've lost my confidence, I've lost my drive, my "why the fuck not?!?"... I've lost my ability to key into the drum beat, isolate where it is coming from and give all abandon to follow it... knowing full well it is beyond me, above me...driving me to a higher purpose. When I graduated high school early, I didn't know why, someone showed me the door, and I walked through it. When I went to college, I picked Theatre Arts as my major.. why? Not because I was the most successful high school actor getting all the big parts... no.. because I loved it! When it was time to move to NY, I had nothing but a dream and luck on my side, so I packed it up and moved to a city where I new only 3 people... the biggest fastest most expensive city.... when it was time to move home, again... a drum beat telling me my time here is done and there are bigger reasons for you to go back home....
And there were... everytime.... amazing opportunity... amazing people... amazing husband... amazing life altering experience in the illness and death of my father. I didn't move because I knew my husband was in NY... I was told by that inner drum beat to move and he showed up. I didn't move home because my father was ill.... the drum beat brought me home and 8 months later he was diagnosed.
My point is that I have no idea where the drum beat is sending me, I just know damn well that I better follow it. This particular drum beat has been slow and steady for awhile. When I have tried to ignore it or go in a different direction than it is leading me, it gets louder and I catch myself falling down mid step and being paralyzed until I get up and make a movement in the direction I am being called.

Being called

I have always been called. My life has always been one calling after another. I have never questioned my callings, I just followed. So, why now? Where in the past 10 years.. past 5 years... did I lose my ability to listen to my inner voice? Am I that emotionally bankrupt?

I know the answers, so why don't I believe them?

A baseball cap

So God played a little trick on me this morning. I decided to go for a walk before getting ready for my day. I played mental games with myself for about an hour before kicking my own ass out the door for my walk. It was only little muggy and damp outside, so I trudge on. About 5 minutes into the walk, a very light drizzle starts to tickle my arms and the back of my neck. No problem - no one got hurt by a little rain. Moving and grooving along...then just about the time I get to the track to really hit the pavement - pouring rain. Hard, wet, thick drops - millions of them. I convince my self I am already here - I am already wet - just keep going. I am halfway through my walk, completely drenched, and tired of wiping the hairspray laced raindrops out of my eyes and I decide to cut this walk short. About 15 paces before the turn to either go home or continue the workout, it lightens up - we are back to the light tickle. I look up, the clouds are lightening, I decide to make the turn to continue. God then laughs really hard - so hard He is crying - all over me again. I laugh back and keep moving and grooving to "Unwritten" on my CD player.

"Feel the rain on your skin - only you can let it in!"

... next time I will wear a baseball cap to keep some of the river of old hairspray from my eyes.

Halloween at our house

Yet another memember of our family is old enough to enjoy the excitement of Halloween at our house. This morning, Ben (22 months) came to me and with perfect ominous delivery and presented me with

"..... p o o k y b i d e r z ........."

He was giving me a handful of "spooky spiders".

Just randomness

No particular reason.... just in a bullet-y type of mood

- Having a garage sale this weekend. I was hoping to be purged a little more than I am... Terrible realization that between my husband's paranoia and my own, we will literally drown in paper in our own home. My husband is terrified of identity theft and I am haunted with the thought that someone is going to come out of the wood works and claim I didn't pay or that I am responsible to pay for something I am not. So I basically have every statement of ...well... everything.. electric bill, cell phone, medical bills, etc..... for the past 8-10 years. I also have grand plans to turn cute/important drawings made by my 4 yr old and 2 yr old into beautiful backgrounds for scrapbooking even though I do not do scrapbooking. My home is a house of cards made up of old receipts, cable bills, and construction paper with glue, glitter and beans.

- Does anyone really care what the hell is going on with Anna Nicole Smith?!?! I am very sorry that she lost her son...it's terrible, really it is... but come on...it has made headlines for weeks now!

- For the first time in a really long time I am looking forward to an exit plan from my mother's company (my current job) and on to a profession I believe is my passion. This absolutely terrifies me...because what if it really isn't my passion and I am just jumping to another ship that is sinking?

- My husband got a haircut this week... he went shorter than he normally does. Sitting across from him at a very well lit dinner I realize...he is losing his hair. My facial expression must have been quite severe because without me saying a word, he says, "I have been telling you I think I am losing my hair... great... now THIS is going on the blog!" I took that as permission, so here you go.

- Ben - issues... that child is nothing but issues for me.... I love that little rascal. Our current lesson is boundaries and determination. We set the boundary that he must stay in his bed a bedtime and he is determined to ignore it. Several nights of up and down, begging, pleading, crying (both of us), naughty wall and pack and plays resulted in the following night:
He had once again gotten up and down out of his bed several times, so I put him in the pack and play to contain him. He obviously did not like his night time cage and
was pleading, crocodile tears in his eyes, to get out. So I got on my knees and pointed to his bed:
"Stay in your bed?"
Looks over at thebed and back at me
"Answer me... stay in your bed? Yes, mam'm?"
Stares blankly at me
"Yes mam'm,?!?"
and in the faintest, almost nothing but air, whisper, "...no...."
"Okay, that's it...goodnight!"
He literally flung himself backwards on his pillow and wailed!! I could actually see his thought expression ..."WRONG ANSWER!!"

Not lost or forgotten....

Incredibly stressful week this week....work issues... way too much to get into here...let's just say it is over for now and my body physically hurts from holding so much tension.

I have realized why my blogging has decreased so dramatically in recent months. I have been having one on one daily therapy thanks to my dear old friend, Tiffanie (and by old, I mean I have known her longer than I haven't known her). Anyhoo... I am completely blessed in that, even though she is thousands of miles away, we are closer than we have ever been in our friendship. We hold email conversations daily throughout our day which are comforting, entertaining, and therapuetic all at once. (I think we are about to celebrate our 2500 email sometime very soon - yes I have kept every one - Update: I just sent her #2531). Anyway, a lot of the things that I would probably blog about here, I send to her.

I need to put some of the stories here, because I use this as an electronic diary of sorts. And this is the closet my children are going to get to a baby book or scrapbook.

Here is a good Ben story....

The other night was a difficult night getting the munchkins to bed. Ben was playing his up and down game opening and closing the door to the bedroom. So after 10 minutes of up and down from my own bed, I gave him a stern, "get back into bed" from their doorway and shut the door. Rather than walk away, I stood there with my face at his eye level so that when he opened the door I would be right there. Sure enough...c-r-e-a-k.... only, he was so surprised to see my face he quickly slammed the door shut....DIRECTLY ON MY FACE... wham.. after the little birdies cleared and I stopped laughing, I opened the door and found him face down into his pillow in his bed...squealling with delight.

Where were you?

9-11 is to my generation what Kennedy's assasination was to my parent's generation. The "Where were you?" moment you are always interested in hearing from others. Here is mine:

Tuesday, September 11, 2001

I was living in New York. My husband and I had an apartment in Queens with a beautiful view of Manhattan. The morning of 09-11-2001 began as it usually did, My husband got up way before me and left for work and I got ready and headed to the street for my morning commute. I was standing at the bus stop, reading my book. Had I looked up, I would have seen the 1st plane hit the tower. I continued my commute from bus to subway. As I walked into my building at 35th and 7th, the security guard hollered after me as I entered the elevator:
"Did you hear?"
"No?"
"A plane clipped the World Trade center"
"Holy Shit!"
"Yeah, wierd, huh?"
"Yeah"
...and the elevator doors closed....
As I rode up to the 14th floor, I remember thinking a prop plane must have clipped the antenna on the top of the tower. Sucks to be that guy... he is going to be in a lot of shit for that one....
The doors opened again and I see our receptionist scrambling to answer phones, in between each ring and "Please hold" she yells at me... "You better call your family!"
Oh my God, something happened... one of my grandparents died... someone was in a car accident... my mind raced as I flew to my department which was still dark. No one had made it in yet and the message light on my phone was blinking red and the phones were ringing at every extension. I pick up my phone.
"This is Rebecca..."
"Are you okay... is Mike okay?!?!" my mother asked in a panicked voice.
"Yes, I am fine, what's going on? Are you guys okay?"
"Becky...didn't you hear?!?! Two planes hit the World Trade Center!"
"What?!?!"
At this point people have heard my voice in the office and are coming in screaming, "... there are more planes... they think one might hit the Empire State building!" (Which was 2 blocks away)
"Mom, I gotta go... I'm okay...I gotta get a hold of Mike... I will call you back."
I try calling Mike's cell but get a rapid busy signal which means there are no lines available.
"Isn't there a TV in here??"
"Uhm, yeah... over here..but it has shitty reception, we gotta move it to the window"
"They have shut down Manhattan... nothing in or out"
"I got it...I got it...."
Our entire office crowds around a small black and white screen for more information,
for what seems like forever, listening to commentary saying nothing but to stay put.
We all try to call out but nobody can get a line....
Damnit Damnit Damnit.... I gotta get a hold of Mike....
"Oh my God... they are jumping!"
Then suddenly... rumble, rumble, rumble.... the Tower 2 collapses.... inaudible gasps followed by shrieks and sobs....
My mind kept racing....
"There were people in those stairs... THERE WERE PEOPLE IN THOSE STAIRS TRYING TO GET OUT!!!"
Panic... pure panic as the streets fill with smoke and debris.... and it hits me... OH MY GOD... MIKE PICKS UP HIS TRUCK FROM DOWN THERE!!! He is trapped... he is trapped under all that debris.
I continuously speed dial and redial between my husbands cell and his work, praying for an available line.... I get through to his dispatch. They tell me they haven't gotten a hold of anyone because all the lines are busy, but he can assure me that Mike already got his truck and was uptown before the tower collapsed.
"Do you swear to me?!?!"
"Yes, ma'm... I assure you he is fine"
Rumble, rumble, rumble... tower one ... gone.... tumbling like blocks and sand.
I gotta get a hold of my family... dial/redial... mom cell...Karen cell...mom cell....Karen cell....
"Hello?"
"Hey it's me"
"Are you okay... are you okay?"
"I'm okay..."
We exchange "I was so scared" and "I was so worried" about a thousand times. Someone in my office realizes that I have gotten a line out.
"Can you have your sister call my parents and let them know I am okay?"
So my sister then uses her home phone to call my co-workers' familes and let them know we are okay.
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know... there is no way in or out of Manhattan. The subways/tunnels/bridges are closed. I guess we stay here until we are told we can leave."
"You can't get on the subway...what if they bomb it"
"I don't know... I don't know...."

Around 4 o'clock we hear they are letting people get out of Manhattan. I gather my things and head down the elevator. I took the eerie walk to the subway. There were no cars... not one. The streets were empty except for people, dust and debris. I got on the subway and exchanged "can you believe it" looks with total strangers on the train. As the 7 train came up from the river to its elevated above ground tracks in Queens, an entire train car of people crowd the windows facing West to view the empty hole with rising dust and smoke where the Twin Towers used to stand. The only words spoken were, "Oh my God...."

That night the only sound you could hear were the jet planes racing over head continuously. I remember asking Mike if it would be okay if we slept with the TV on that night. I needed to hear the TV in case an emergency broadcast signal came on for real.

The next day I became dizzy reading the scroll on the bottom of my TV. I was glued to every image played and re-played, every new theory, every new expert. I called our best friends, Todd and Allison.
"I can't watch anymore"
"Neither can I....let's go get a drink..."
We met them for dinner to escape the constant news on the TV, and walked into a resturaunt with TV's in every corner. As much as we wanted to escape it, it was comforting to have them on in case anything new came on.
Todd saw both planes hit.. he was a stock broker with a perfect view of the World Trade center from his window. When the second plane hit, he flew down his building and caught the last train out of Manhattan before the city was closed. He watched the towers fall from the platform of the Queensboro Bridge stop.

There was a great urgency to do something... to just head downtown and start pulling debris and helping with the search. It was very clear from the TV that unless you were a professional, you would be turned away. Late that night in the bar, the front doors opened up as two very dusty and very worn firefighters walk into the bar. There was a mad rush in the resturaunt to thank those two beaten men and fights to pay for anything they wanted. They humbly bowed their heads, shook off any praise and retreated to a corner for some space to clear their heads.

Thursday morning, we were told not to let the terrorist win... head back to work with our heads held high. I walk into my office, put my things down, and head to the bathroom.
WHOOP - WHOOP- WHOOP - WHOOP
The alarms go off.... I come out of the bathroom and look around at all my colleagues standing in the hallways looking at one another for someone to decide what to do. At this point the emergency exit opens from the outside as a security guard calmly but sternly asks us to leave the building.
"There has been a bomb threat at Penn Station" (which is across the street)
Panic...PANIC.... we head to the emergency exit stairs to crowd into the hundreds of people flowing down from floors above us.
Floor 14
Floor 13
Floor 12
(Oh my God this was what it was like for all those people)
Floor 11
(I realize a friend is having a panic attack and stumbling down the stairs in her heels)
"Take your shoes off"
"I can't"
"Hold on to me... we are going to get down the stairs... HOLD ON TO ME"
Floor 10
Floor 9
(We are not moving fast enough... dear God....dear God... please please)
Floor 8
Floor 7
Floor 6
(Will we know it when the bomb goes off? Will we feel it?)
Floor 5
Floor 4
Floor 3
Floor 2
Floor 1....
"Ladies... please head North towards Times Square... everyone...PLEASE HEAD NORTH!"

We follow their instructions and head North. As we are quickly moving in mass uptown, we are hit with a crowd of people heading downtown. After pushing and struggling to get further uptown, I stop and ask someone where they are coming from.
"There is a bomb threat at Times Square!"
"There was a bomb threat at Penn Station!"
I turn to a cabbie sitting in his car parked on the side and ask him what is going on and he informs us there are bomb threats everywhere... Penn Station, Times Square, Grand Central, you name it.

I find a large group of my co-workers and explain what I have been just told. My boss turns to us and says, "Ladies... that's it... go home and don't return until all this settles down... nothing is that important and I won't jeopardize your lives until we know more." We all hugged and smiled and got teary eyed because we were all scared to death to get on the trains and head home. We couldn't get back into our office for safety and we surely weren't safe on the streets. I prayed every step down the stairs to the subway and every breath until I was safely off the train in Queens.

The events of those days will never leave me, but they cannot compare to the pain and anguish suffered by those directly affected by this tradgedy. I hate the fact that those events caused a predjudice in me causing me to stare at every Middle Eastern man who got on the subway with a long coat or back pack. I asked for forgiveness the moment the thought would cross my mind, but could never fully let my stare go....

Weekend Warriors

No...no..no... I haven't fallen of the face of the Earth! I have gotten a couple of emails/comments about my absence here in the blog world and there are many factors which I would love to get into but let's just chalk it up to busy social calendar, work more obnoxious than normal, stomache flu that laid me on my ass and the most important time consumer of all......

Max and Ben's new Big Boys Room!!!

Yes.... we did it! We have been planning for months to change the boys' nursery into a room fit for two big boys. I have slowly acquired everything and Mike and I made serious plans on how to make the most of my sometimes over the top designs. It is bascially an homage to our favorite Disney movies - well PIXAR movies. It is a combination of Buzz for Max, Nemo for Ben and Cars for their play area. It was four very long days (especially since I was still recovering from the stomach flu) but it turned out better than I expected. We have painted, built, painted, sewn, (did I mention paint) and the results are below....Before and After ... And yes... I made those curtains myself (with my mother's help) and I am damn proud of myself!!!!


BEFORE - Nursery Theme


BEFORE - View from Door


AFTER - View from door


BEFORE - Bed Corner


AFTER - Bed Corner


Max's Suite


Ben's Suite

Uhm....helloooooo

So I was on a website today and I came across this:



If I were visually impaired how would I see this?

It was only a matter of time

This morning we took a major step in the direction of brotherhood bonding and ingenuity and parenthood nightmares.

The boys have had this box with wheels that came with a bunch of mega blocks. It is very small and light (picture a small foot rest/ottoman type thing) I hear the wheels zooming across the floors for awhile and paid no mind... until... the crash into the TV followed not by screams, but uproarious laughter... then zooming again. I come around the corner to see Max straddling the box and Ben pushing full throttle behind. "Look mommy, it's a horsey!" they both proudly presented to me!

I knew it was only a matter of time, and that time has come....I must now imagine all incarnations of every item in our home, and here is the key point, before THEY DO!

In a New York state of mind....

I am aching for the Big Apple lately..... I can't put my arms around it other than Fall is approaching and there is no better place in the Fall than NYC. Today at work, all the music que'd on my yahoo music reminds me of a cozy pub, a glass of red wine, and long coversation wearing a great turtle neck sweater, sleek boot leg black pants, and a great high heel boot. Then the next song will be from a musical from the Great White Way!
I miss New York very much. I loved the city, I loved the life. I didn't like the cost and being so far from family. And I knew I wasn't going to be able to have kids in the City and I knew I would never be able to afford to live out of the City and commute.
I know my love affair with that city is not over. My husband is a born and bred.. Brooklyn through and through. It may not be until we retire or when God blesses us with a winning lottery ticket, but I feel that I will live in that city again someday.

Be Honest!

How many of you knew that the tune for "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" and the "ABC" song where the same?

I am nearly floored at the amount of people who never put the 2 tunes together.....

No time (or desire) for flowery wordiness....

- Ben - fever, no idea why, no symptoms other than fever, took 5 hour nap and fever went away. Keeping fingers crossed.

- Nothing cuter than a 20 month old trying to get a wad of double stick tape off of their fingers, but having no idea why it "won't let go"

- Is it adorable or terrifying that the 3 1/2 yr old knows how to use the pause/play buttons on the DVR remote?

- Is it okay to laugh out loud when said 3 1/2 yr old pauses Jimmy Neutron, heads to the bathroom, turns around and finds favorite book, places it under arm and heads back to bathroom announcing, "Mommy I gotta go poop, I'll let you know in a minute...." referring to the "I'm done come wipe me" yell.

- Is it wrong that even though I have been home all day, I have no desire whatsoever to cook dinner?

Here's to not playing the game......

I was pissed.... I was in a pissy mood, I had spent all day doing 2 jobs because my assistant did not come in to work, I had a lot more to do and I needed to make arrangements to make sure Mike would pick up the kids.

Call his cell... straight to voice mail....

Okay, so we have 2 otpions here... his cell battery is dead or he is out of range. I am praying for the latter since that one gave me even a hope of being able to speak to him. I know that his company is basically shutting down after 2 PM and BBQ-ing to celebrate a good week last week. It is now 4:oo.

Call his cell... straight to voice mail....

Damn it!

Maybe I can luck out and he went home because it was hot and he is actually at home watching TV....no luck.

I am hoping upon hope that he is taking into consideration that I am always the one who has to chauffer the kids around and his early day is a great opportunity to pick up the kids. I know he will go back to the house first so I call and call and call and call....

In between calls I am trying to speed through the last things of my day, shortcut some other issues, and cram an hour's worth of work into 10 minutes. I know I am defeated now, and I am going to have to risk a ticket for 90 miles an hour in order to get to the kids on time.

This is were it goes bad.... all this erratic behavior, work cramming and straight to voice mail calls has turned my PMS into overdrive.....

Why am I always the one to get the kids to school?
Why am I always the one to pick the kids up from school?
Why am I always the one to decide, cook, and clean dinner?
Why am I always the one to why always the one to get the kids up and dressed and breakfast made?
Why am I always the one to clean up breakfast?
Why am I always the one to clean the whole house?
Why am I always the one to think of what we need at the grocery?
Why am I always the one to go to the grocery?
Why am I always the one to do the laundry - gather, sort, wash, dry, fold, and put away?

WHY IS IT ALWAYS ASSUMED THAT I DO EVERYTHING?!?!?!?!??!?

So rather than turn right out of daycare to go home I turned left. I took them to dinner with a playground and sat there while my phone rang and rang and rang and rang... for an hour.....

I came home, Mike meets us outside. The boys run up to him, I walk to the other side of the car and into the house with no words.

He knows exactly what is wrong... he knows exactly why I am pissed....and guess what....

He doesn't play my game.....
He refuses to play my tantrum game.....
We get the kids ready and into bed....
I walked into the bedroom and read... he walked into the living room and laughed out loud at something he was watching on TV....

As pissed as I was... I was kinda proud of him.....

This morning's rituals were just the same.... he called later in the morning and asked how everybody was this morning..... fine..... and how are YOU this morning... I smiled at the comment but was cold on the line...

I don't appreciate that comment.
Okay.
From now on, it is NEVER okay to assume that I will take care of everything.
Okay.... but if you want my help in the mornings that means you guys have to get up ealier...
(Ouch)Okay... that's a deal
Okay.
Love you - bye.
Love you - bye.

Cheers to that sorry son-of-a-hoo-haw for not playing my game....

I feel like Chicken Little

I am pretty sure that we are witnessing the beginning of World War III.

Here is my question. Back when World War I and II were starting... did they know? Is it something that just slowly creeps up on us or is it a major incident that rocks the world and the next thing you know we are running for cover and praying for our lives?

And why do we have to continue to buy safety? Someone says they have a bomb.... it could reach us and cause major physical/economic harm..... here is some money, do you promise not to bomb us? 10 years later..... we have a bomb.... now we want this.....

I can't watch TV or read the articles anymore, but I can't stop.....

What the??!!?!?

These are the 4 headlines on My Yahoo....

Barbaro (the Kentucky Derby horse) doing much better....

Hezbollah: "We are ready for open war"....

Mr. T has post Katrina makeover....

DC crime emergency prompts extra patrol....

A horse with an infection, a Middle East War, and 80's fallen star's clothing choices, and a spike in crime in our nation's capital.

These are the 4 most important things going on in the world right now 4:15 PM, Friday, July 14, 2006.....

Seriously people......