So, yes, now it is getting to me.

Seriously, I am OVER it today. I am so tired of not having a kitchen or living room, everything dusty and in shambles, never being able to find anything, and changing poopy pants. My car had a leak in one of the back shocks, is making a lovely noise when I drive it (which I am told is just "cupped" tires), and now my dryer is buzzing all the time and someone has to come look at it. I missed getting P into tumbling, and have to go shopping for my 20 year class reunion. I have nothing to wear and I suspect shopping for something is going to be as dreadful as poking myself in the eye with a pencil.

My chest is tight all the time with anxiety and getting little help from hubby with the kids lately b/c of all the work. And to top it off, I am told to not expect things to get done really soon. "We have to wait for the contractor's schedule, then we have to order the countertops, which take a while to get in. You can't have a sink until we have countertops." Why can't it just be "next week the contractor lays the floors and sets up the kitchen. We'll order a dishwasher so you have it to help with dishes and get the stove in so you have someplace to cook other than the toaster oven and hot plate."

If it was just hubby and I complaining would be useless because we could handle it....AND I'd be at work most of the day and not in this pile of rubble. Throwing two very young children in the mix makes me feel overwhelmed and annoyed at the situation. Also, the fucking fire alarm keeps going off each time I use the toaster. One more thing, if hubby calls one more day and asks if we are out having fun when the baby has naptime I am going to lose my shit.

ahhhhh......

Now that the volcano has errupted, the mountain can settle.

Little hiccups

Being my age....hrumph, ahem..., I have found that life is full of u-turns, stop lights, wrong turns, and those nasty speed bumps that make you slow down. I look back on choices I made and sometimes wish things were different. What if I went away to college? What if I majored in voice instead of history? What if I chose polos instead of black leather biker jackets? What if didn't move to NYC? What if I didn't befriend that girl that truly needed me? What if I stayed one hour later? What if I didn't go at all?

Then the questions of "what if I truly stuck to my guns to never marry?" Did I truly want to grow old alone? Then, could I possibly want to not only grow old alone, but grow old without my children by my side?

Ewe. No. The most important things in my life right now are because of my choices - right or wrong. My "what ifs" can be quietly stowed away in one of the files of my brain. I'll put them in a box and look back on them when I have time. Right now, my time is for the precious joys I have in my life...and they ride the highway.

Miss P's First Summer Camp

P went to her first summer camp this week. She is doing a performance art camp with Open Heart. When I read through all the camp would entail, I thought it would be perfect for her. She loves to sing, dance, and dress up....all the things the camp offered. It was only three days for a little over two hours each day.

The first day of camp bubbies and I stayed the whole time because I thought she "needed" me there with her. When we first got there she said she wanted to go home and kept walking towards the car. I had to talk her into staying and show her that mommy was having a great time, which meant that she could too if she gave it a shot. She ended up loving it. It was a fun day of puppets, dressing up, and playing. I actually was having a tremendous time, but I wasn't the person it was for...ahem...so I tried to back off and watch my little girl do her thing and wrangle the boy. P did great. She loved hanging out with Anima & Pete, the puppeteers/actors, and loved Heidi, who is the owner/creator of the camp. She was thrilled that she was going to get to go back and play with everyone again when Wednesday rolled around.

When we got home the first day we talked about what she did, how she liked it, and how she got to dress up in a princess ballerina costume (that alone made it pretty worthwhile). I wasn't worried about taking her back on Wednesday, but I was worried about how I was going to handle it because I wanted to drop her off and leave. Part of me thought it was good practice for preschool, but part of me struggled with leaving her. I didn't want to leave her but I kind of felt I had to. I mean, c'mon, it was only for two hours. Yeah, two hours. Two very long hours for mama.

I spoke with Heidi and she assured me P would be fine and she would do everything she could to make her comfortable. Heidi told me the last thing planned was snack-time, so I told P I'd pick her up after snack. Friend Susan just took her daughter to preschool camp a few weeks ago, and said to tell P something concrete such as "I'll pick you up after snack" rather than "I'll come get you in a couple of hours." They don't really get time at this age - but they will remember that mommy will get them after they have a snack. It worked! P was more than happy to stay with Heidi, gave me a hug good-bye, and an enormous hug hello when I picked her up. I really missed her for two hours...and I cried off and on for those two hours b/c I missed her so much and hoped she was having fun. I know she'll read this one day and say "mommm - you're a dork."

Kitchen and living room construction

So it begins.

We moved into our home in the fall of 2001. We looked and looked all over Clintonville (I had lived there for years), Beechwold, Grandview (hubby lived there for years), Worthington, and even the Dublin area for a suitable abode. Suitable meaning a decent house that fit into our price range and could be inhabited without having to do immediate repair work. We had a realtor, but hubby was the one who found the home where we currently live. I loved it immediately. The big trees out front, the clean look. When I saw the inside I loved it too - hardwood flooring in the bedrooms, bright kitchen in front room, and lower living space with a laundry room that wasn't in a deep dark basement that would eventually scare me, and a private bathroom in the master bedroom (barely big enough to turn around in, but I am not a jacuzzi type, anyhow). It was great.

We even got a great deal on the house. Mainly because the owner lived in Colorado and was renting out the home to Honda employees for years. He wanted to get rid of the property so he didn't have to keep coming back to Ohio to do repair work...which was shotty, as we have been finding out over the years.

The house was soooo obviously built in the early seventies. The lower level had a bar with fake wood beams surrounding it for ambiance, paneling painted white that covered the walls, parqued flooring that was full of asbestos, and a bathroom decorated with gold wall paper. That was the first to go as far as we were concerned. We totally gutted it and replaced everything but the ceiling. The next was the deck. We had water flooding the basement, coming into the walls of the downstairs bathroom, and pooling right outside the back door. It had to be taken care of. We tore out the concrete patio and built our deck. Then we knew we wanted kids and I got pregnant with P. She needed a decent room, so we did her nursery. Then along came bubbies, so we did his nursery. Next was the laundry room - it was dank, dark, and disgusting. You can see my update from a previous post here. All along we were wishing we could do the kitchen!

Well, we finally have the money and have decided to redo the kitchen. Not only redo the whole kitchen, but take out the wall between the living room and the kitchen to open up the whole space. Everything must go. We are getting new cabinets, an island, hardwood flooring, new windows, new slider, all new appliances, new kitchen table, and a more liveable space. I feel better when a space flows, and right now it doesn't. When you walk in, the only way to the kitchen is around a big wall, and then while in the kitchen the long counter creates a barrier between getting to the fridge and getting outside. I can't wait to demolish it all!!!!!

Where we are now is....we have the new windows in and the cabinets were delivered yesterday. Today hubby is picking up the flooring and then tomorrow a couple of friends and hubby will be taking up the tile. good- bye awful white tile, may you RIP.

Another poopy update

Man, P is random, random, random. Yesterday morning she totally went poo on the potty for daddy - and announced it to the guys that were putting in our new windows. She was so proud of herself. She got to wear her leotard and tutu AND her ballet slippers for that one. But then....

We had to stick around the house all day because were getting windows put in. I decided later in the day that since were we hadn't been out I'd take them for Frosties and the park. We drove through Wendy's to get two baby Frosties and went over to the park with the little picnic table. They enjoyed sitting there eating their little frozen delights, which they really each only at about 1/4 and wanted to put them in the trash can, and then they ran to the swings. We swinged, we took the magic lane to the open field and ran up and down the hill. It was so fun. P even saw a couple of boys without their shirts on playing tennis. She promptly yelled - hey, why are you boys naked?? They just laughed, it was cute. I did a cartwheel, even.

Well, then it happened. We were walking back to the car to get the big ball to kick around, and suddenly she decided to hide under the gym set. OOVVVVFFFF course there was no place I could get her to quickly to poo, so she did it in her pants. I was SO mad. All I could think was my car is going to be ruined. Luckily, I put a diaper on over her panties and got her home. I didn't talk to her all the way home. I acted like it was a mission to get home and get her cleaned up. She could tell I was upset. This is it, though, and this is the part that ticked me off.....she sat in her car seat, looked directly at me and said "SQUIIIIIIIIISH. SQUIIIIIIISH." while she moved her butt into her seat. As if the poo was a big joke. She had already peed her pants earlier and didn't tell me, nor did she listen to me when I said we had to get changed. Did I breed a newspaper-for-pants kind of girl?

Anyhow, I made a decision that I am not proud of, but now I have to follow through with it. I told her she needed to earn back her tiara and princess dress. I put them away and told her she needed to poo and pee in the potty for one week to earn them back. I put a chart on the fridge and everything. She cried and cried - it totally broke my heart. But, nothing has worked up to now, so I am hoping this will work. If not, I am just a big mean mom.

Potty Training the Girl

Potty training is like pulling out eyebrow hairs - painful, inconsistent, and if you don't keep on top of them they just do their own wild and unruly thing.

I have been potty training P since before she was two...and she is now three. This means for over a year I have been cleaning up accidents, begging, pleading, bribing, cheering, flushing, and rewarding. I can't even write how many times I have cleaned up turds off the floor. I even have pictures of turds in random places in my house. The one by the play kitchen was my favorite because the thing sat in front of the oven like it belonged there. Yes, turds in the house. I am just very, very thankful the dogs never wanted to indulge. They just eat their own from time to time.

We had an awesome day on Saturday. The girl pooed in the "Elmo" potty. We have two potties: Elmo, which is a seat on the big potty, and the "Froggie Potty," which is a little kids potty you have to empty into the big potty. She prefers to poo in Elmo and pee in Froggy...whatever floats your boat, I guess. Her pooping in Elmo was a huge triumph for us because she would rather poo in her underwear or hold it than to poo in the potty. It has been a struggle for me because it is really gross to clean up, and it is frustrating when I know she can do and just doesn't. She has pooed in the potty countless times....why can't she do it everyday? She knows how, and she has been rewarded BIG time for doing it.

On Saturday when she pooed she got a tiara and a princess dress. She had been holding it for three days and trying and trying to poo. She kept complaining about her tummy hurting and I told her to just go. She refused. Then finally, she did it - and I had to go over the top in hopes this was the beginning of consistency.We went to Target and she went around telling everyone she saw "I got a sparkly tiara and a sparkly dress because I put a big snaky poo in the toilet." Yes, folks, everyone. She even stopped two little girls to tell them and their mommy. She told the cashier in a very loud voice what she did too. It was really funny, but kind of embarrassing for me. My kid yelling about that she did a big snaky poo made me laugh nervously.

Look, Mama! I pooped!

I thought we were on the road to pooing-in-the-potty land, and then we went to our friend's for dinner. I heard the other girls yelling "ewwe! gross! she pooped in her pants! It is everywhere!" My heart went into my shoes. I knew what happened and I was really upset. I was upset because she pooed her pants, it was a friend's house and got all over their floor and the playhouse, and because she didn't tell me she had to go. It was so embarrassing for me, but not for her! She needed a bath, new clothes and a pull-up because I didn't bring anything. It didn't bother her in the least - she was excited to play with the other girls' bath toys. We were only going for dinner and I thought for sure if she had to go she'd tell me. Not so...and I have learn a lesson that I need to be prepared for those types of accidents.

I seriously hope she never does that in public. I don't know what the heck I would do! Thankfully my friend was understanding.

She asked that bubbies stand next to the poo and take a picture, too.

Ah, melanoma

I went in for my (supposed to be 6 month...oops) skin check-up and seems I had a new weird looking mole on my left breast. They suggested I remove it because of its shape and color. The odds are that it is not melanoma, and chances of it being abnormal are 50/50. If it is abnormal I will have to remove more tissue around the area in question. I am praying for a clean scan so I don't have to undergo more stitches (I hate stitches), but I'll do whatever I need to do.

Right now it is a small incision of only two stitches - easily covered with a Nemo water-proof bandage. I could have chosen Pooh, but P likes Nemo better. I have to wear a sports bra all day and to sleep in for three weeks. Now, sports bras don't typically bother me, but being "tied down" for 24 hours sucks. They recommend the bra to lessen the scarring from the incision. Because of the location, the skin will open up 40% causing a stretched scar already, and keeping the girls from juggling about should help keep it from opening further. Sounds kind of gross, doesn't it? ha!

The doc suggested a scar cream which is a mere (har har) $50/small bottle. I spoke with hubby and he said "why? do you really mind your scars? I sure don't!" Good friend Heather said the same kind of thing - she said she never even questions the scar on my arm. It is just a part of who I am. I am grateful that I am a 10 year cancer survivor and hope that I have tens of years before I have to ever face that beast again! I was so lucky too - no chemo, just a few stitches on my arm. I can't wear anything on that arm like a watch or a bracelet because it still hurts to this day, but that doesn't bother me in least. At least I have an arm - at least I have a life and my melanoma was just a minor bump in the road.

Cute! Cute!

I have been really watching my kids lately, or should I say "observing" them. Both of them have certain things they do and I grab them and kiss, kiss, kiss them. They get so annoyed with me sometimes, but I don't care - I can't take not smothering them with love when they push the love button.

For instance:

• bubbies saying "chuuuuzzz" and giving an adorable toothy grin when you pull the camera out to take his pic. I have learned that smile and can pick it when I look at pictures. P's "cheese" is pretty obvious...take a look:
• He waves like it is the last time he'll ever see you again. It is a big all-arm wave with a big smile that just melts my heart everytime I see him do it.
• The walk and nod. When he is singing to himself he takes big steps and nods his head back and forth while looking at the ground.
• Speaking of singing - he is trying to talk and sing. Right now I can make out Baa Baa Black Sheep and he requests My Bonnie when I put him to sleep.
• Miss P and chapstick...or lipstick as she calls it. Before bed I'll read her books and then she hops off my lap telling me she'll be right back. She goes into my make-up drawer and puts on her "lipstick" and then proudly says that NOW she is ready for bed. If she comes in to sleep with me in the middle of the night she stops in my bathroom to put on her "lipstick."
• P uses words such as huge, gigantic, freakin' me out, gorgeous...I love her vocabulary.
• She knows we are at the zoo b/c she reads the sign. She can spot certain words now...if I worked with her more I could quite possibly have an early reader on my hands. She has been writing the letters "L", "O", and "T"....like I mentioned, if I work with her more....
• P likes to change words in songs, but ever so slightly. Songs that have a boy doing something we change it to a girl doing something, or as in White Coral Bells we change the last verse to the "fairies WON'T sing." not sure why.

Now, say "cheese!"

The latest

I seriously need to start using my iPod touch recorder....especially since that is the main reason hubby bought it for me. I want to record myself reading to the kids so they have a copy of me reading books to them or singing our favorite songs. I also want to record them singing, talking, etc. We have tapes from when my Grandma B. taped us. She had this incredible recording "studio" in her house. It was pretty advanced for the time.

She would play her favorite records and then dub in her voice so it sounded like she was singing the song. The music with her singing would be recorded on a cassette tape that we would then play in the car on our excursions to the grocery store or the pool. I used to think it was the best thing EVER. She was so awesome. Her favorite singers were Ann Margaret and Sheena Easton. damn I loved that woman.

I have a tape somewhere of me singing "Sugar Town" by Nancy Sinatra when I was 9 years old. I used to sing that song and "You Light Up My Life" for talent shows throughout school and my acting classes with Steve Anderson (who now, I believe, heads up Phoenix Theater Circle). I also LOVED the The Beatles. We sang a lot of "I Wanna Hold Your Hand."

Anyhow - vocal recordings are wonderful to listen to later in life. My cousin and I laugh our asses off at some of the stuff Grandma B. recorded us doing. I love having that memory and the audio cassettes to listen to...if I could find a cassette recorder anywhere...ha!

No jogger is safe

No jogger is safe from harassment when my daughter is around. I was walking the kids in the stroller this afternoon and a nice man jogged passed us. He said hello and gave us a smile and went on his merry way. P noticed he was not wearing a shirt, and proceeds to yell:

"Hey you are naked. Put your shirt on."

"Hey, man, did you hear me?"

"mommy, that man is naked." I explained it was hot and men sometimes exercise without their shirts. She yells:

"my mommy said it is okay you are naked. now run faster"

"faster, run faster"

"mommy, why won't he run faster?"

Then we pass him again. She sees him coming our way and promptly puts the lid down on her stroller and screams:

"there is that naked man again!"

He just smiled. I smiled and shrugged my shoulders.

sad

bubbies stopped nursing this week. I am sad. I am sad because I won't nurse another child, and my plan was to nurse him until he was two. I am also very sad that my boobs hurt so bad that I almost picked up package of hot dogs and put them on my breasts when I was grocery shopping.

Well, we had a good run. And, really, it is kind of a relief because he was SO rough. He was always pulling my hair, scratching me, biting me, pinching me (yes, my other nipple while he nursed...and it wasn't pleasant), rolling my skin...kicking, laughing, screaming, yanking my jewelry. It was quite time we gave it up - for my sanity. He is/was 17 months - 3 months longer than his sister.

The only reason I would try to keep him on the boob is so I could get some relief. Guess that is what red wine is for...

Oh the little things.

Not going to beat around the bush here, but having two children ages three and one is tough. Sometimes it is awesome, sometimes it is annoying, and sometimes I get short-tempered with them, but when it comes right down to it, it is the first thing I listed. Things that make it awesome include the fact that I gave birth to their unique little souls, and watching them grow and experience new things is like butter cream icing on a dark chocolate cake baked with chocolate chips. Then there are the other things that make it awesome...even if it is tough....

Things by P:

• I wanted to clean her face with "mommy spit." She says to me "don't touch me with that lick!" I thought she was being silly, so I tried again. She said the same thing. I was cracking up. She was serious. She ran from me. I ended up getting the washcloth.
• She was mad at me because she got in trouble for taking a toy away from her brother. She sobs, "YOU aren't my mommy!" I said, "who am I, then?" She says, "I don't know, but YOU aren't my mommy!"
• The way she only wants to wear dresses. I could put her in the cutest outfit with pants or shorts. It may stay on for a few hours but by the end of the day she is in a dress.
• Her princess shoes. The first pair deemed "princess" she peed in and I couldn't get the smell out, so we got a new pair. I was smart this time around. I ordered her current size and a size bigger. Now I will not run out of "princess" shoes. By the way, we have princess tennis shoes too, and they are the only tennis shoes she'll wear at this moment. She had the coolest pair of Stride Rite Superballs....we gave those away and she wasn't the least bit sad about it.
  
• Picky food eater. Now, this gets on my nerves. And, I swear she can smell a vegetable a mile away. She'll nibble on veggies and that makes me happy, but she won't eat a serving. I bought the second Sneaky Chef book to hide the good stuff. I haven't tried a ton of stuff out of the book, but I am working on it. I need to make room in my freezer for the purees so I have them quickly.
• She's a reader. I love how interested in books she is and that is rubbing off on baby brother. I am thinking preschool will be tremendously fun for her. I am putting her in at three just because of the kind of kid she is. If she seemed more immature and more interested in just playing I would have waited.
• She loves music and gets hooked on songs. Right now it is Spiders in the Kitchen by The Eels. It cracks me up. The only thing is, the song right after it stars off "It's a mother f$$ker," and sometimes I am not quick enough on the off button. oops.
• She just left for lunch with hubby and his buddies in her pink leotard and tutu completed with ballet slippers.

bubbies, or lately, E-baby:

• "Up" has officially been agreed upon as his first word. He babbles about other things and we can make out ball and milk...kind of.
• Smart. Seriously, I don't know if it is just because he is the second kid and has lots of examples and modeling, but he can do things I don't remember P doing at his age.
• Easy-going. I can wake him up from a nap, change his diaper, and throw him into the car. As long as he has something to drink he is happy.
• He smiles all the time, pretty much.
• His laugh is A dorable.
  
• He loves to be tickled.
• He loves to dance and does this arm pump thing with his left arm. I will have to upload it some day.
• He is a good eater. I have fed him so many different things and the only thing he doesn't really like so far is left-overs....same as his mom.
  

Three Sisters Garden

There is a community/student garden going in at my local elementary school called The Three Sisters-Settlers Garden. I am currently volunteering to do their PR and also to help prepare the garden for planting, helping plant seeds, and also garden maintenance and harvesting. This passed Saturday I worked hauling mulch, raking the mulch out in the beds, planting seeds, creating the Three Sisters mounds, and being the media contact for the local press that showed up. I haven't done media escorting in three years, and it was a lot of fun. It felt much more relaxing to do a media tour for a volunteer effort than it did when I got paid. I don't know why, because I feel just as vested in this community garden that is getting local press as I did for the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show when I was doing national and international press. crazy.

Anyhow, I created their blog (http://threesistersgarden.wordpress.com/) and am trying to keep it updated, reached out to local television, print, and internet-based media and am getting a great turn out. On Saturday WSYX/ABC6 and This Week (coverage coming out June 4), which is a small weekly that covers the suburbs of Central Ohio. Next Saturday I am expecting more press...I hope!

Working on the garden I have met the most incredible people. I am so excited to get to learn about Local Matters and Urban Wild. Amy at Urban Wild is designing and implementing the new rain garden at COSI with plants native to Ohio. She is really cool and is a sustainable gardening expert. She said she'd come over and help me decide what to plant in my yard. I have learned so much from her already and feel so fortunate to have made her as a new friend.

Saturday I took P over when the press left. I didn't want to be talking to media and have to rassle my three at the same time...even though I knew P would be an angel. She is typically really good when it is just mommy and P. (Put bubbies in the mix and she gets a little needy and rambunctious because she knows she can get away with more when I have my hands full of bouncing, chubby baby.) She raked and helped water the mounds. Hubby walked bubbies over in the wagon. Hubby was really impressed with what we had done so far...and I am not surprised. The garden is impressive. I am going to be annoying and take each of my friends over who come for a visit to my house. I am just so proud of the work Brookside, Local Matters, and Urban Wild have done...and so excited to be a part of it.

Anyhow, here are a few pics from the day:

P helping spread mulch.

Mr. Monroe, principal of Brookside Elementary, being interviewed by WSYX/ABC 6

Candy Brooks, reporter for This Week, interviewing Blake Cullens. Blake was a very mature, well-spoken 6th grader.

P and bubbies playing in one section of the garden when the work day ended for volunteers.

Awakenings

I prefer to call milestones "awakenings." It makes more sense to me. It just seems as if when babies are born their brains are asleep and as they grow, it wakes up. For instance, when they learn they can see you and smile. There is finally a connection there that tells mommy "hey, I see you...finally....and I can do something that shows I am coherent." Rolling over, crawling or scooting, walking, eating on their own - all awakenings. It is so cool to see them figure those things out too - I love it when they wake up.

Currently for P, it is all about communicating effectively. She is starting to understand manners are manners because they get you somewhere. The latest on our list has been saying "excuse me" when you want someone's attention. She, being the egocentric 3 year old that she is, would just get louder and louder when she wanted your attention. It is still a work in progress...but, I am very proud of her when she remembers on her own. little sweetie.

This, though, was one of those awwwe moments. I was in her room getting her ready for bed. This was our conversation:

P: mommy?
me: yes, my love?
P: can you do me a favor??
me: of course, what would you like? (giggle, giggle, smile, awwwwe in my mind)
P: could you get me a glass of water?
me: yes!

I went downstairs just smiling to myself because she had never asked for a "favor" before. What is up with that? That part of my daughter's brain about communicating effectively is starting to stretch in bed. Now, I know the shades aren't up yet because she still screams and yells, but the alarm clock is going off for sure. She said that she was mad at me today because I was mad at her for dumping dog water all over the floor. She said that Ethan did it first and that I should put him in time -out and that is wasn't fair. WHAT? Who are you? Has my child been abducted and an alien child is using her body as a host? NOOOO. She is just growing up. :( No really, I am very happy about it and think it is uber cute most of the time.

Mother's Day

I have been a mother for 3 years, and it is still weird when I get a card or a gift on Mother's Day. This year hubby gave me beautiful flowers, some cash to go shopping for new clothes (what? tired of my ratty t-shirts and man pants?), and a lovely card. He said he didn't like the pre-arrangements and actually picked each flower out himself. Seriously? What a guy. Not sure what I did to deserve him!!

My mom and my sis-in-law gave me something "hinting" at something too. D gave me some Slimwear lotion that is supposed to reduce cellulite and my mom gave me a grilling basket for vegetables. hmmm..what are they trying to say?

This year we went out for a nice brunch at Confluence Park. We had table by the window so we could overlook the river and see the downtown skyline. The day was beautiful, so the view was lovely. After brunch we visited the cemetaries where my Grandmother W. and my Grandma B. are buried. We always leave flowers and visit the "greats" too. I love cemetaries. They are so peaceful and beautiful . Watching P and her cousie Annie run through the graveyard was very cute - and I think the actual feeling of quiet and sadness lifted. Almost as if the spirits were happy to see children run and play...I dunno, it was really cool. Grandmother W. is buried out in Reynoldsburg and Grandma B. is buried at Union Cemetary by Riverside Hospital. I always felt that Grandma B. was close when I had my two children - and I know that they both visited when I had them. But, that is another story, another day.

After we went to the cemetaries we went to mom and dad's to hang out and have a cookout. P and bubbies made Grammies a bird bath and got drenched when they filled it with water for her. I was thinking about making one for myself, but seeing how the children loved to play with it and play in the water, I think I'll wait until they are older. I would hate for it to break and then the wee ones get injured by sharp terra cota pot pieces.

Today I am tired. I wish I got a nap yesterday. :)

Happy Birthday Peyton!

My daughter is three years old. Three! She has changed so much each year that it is difficult to keep up with her. I am currently dealing with the fact that she wants to do everything herself and has a difficult time taking "direction." Me being the control freak that I am has a hard time letting her do her own thing and make her own decisions. I need to lighten up. I want to have fun with my evolving neanderthal, not be in a battle over wits or clubs. Hubby tells me that the art of offering choices is a study that should not be ignored. Friend Heather recently reminded me that being a "yes" parent makes life much easier and your child much happier. Mix the two together and I shouldn't have to face another time-out, right?! Well, I am currently practicing both mixed in with a little, or a lot of my own no's, stops, don't do thats, and not nows. Hopefully my recipe for discipline will turn out like a french silk pie and not a cowpie. Cross your fingers for my success in parenting a three year old.

It just is so baffling to me how much I need to change. It makes sense, I mean she is changing by the minute and I need to keep up and be sure I am doing the most I can for her at her developmental stage. For one, I don't have to be her only entertainment - she pretend plays and has fun by herself reading or playing, and that is hard for me because I like her needing me. I know she still needs me immensely, but it isn't the same. Since she is getting the hang of potty-training that is one more area where my help will be a memory....not so sad about that, but to think I'll never be changing Dora pull-ups again in the near future makes me tear up a bit.

Miss P is such a sweetie when it comes right down to it. I am very lucky to have her as my daughter. She holds a very special place in my heart that noone else will - and I will never give up the key. Her determination, imagination, intelligence, and kindess amaze me everyday. She loves her family, her friends, and her two stinky dogs. Everyday she HAS to wear princess shoes and a dress. Many times I have had to bribe her into thinking a shirt is a dress or into wearing a skirt because it is like a dress. She complains if I sneak veges into her quesdillas, but will munch on raw carrots and inhale broccoli like it is going out of style. I think it is the whole "what pleases me today attitude." Every little princess at three has it, I'm sure.

Happy Birthday Peytie-pants. Mommy loves you more than the use of her arms and legs.

bubbies is 15 Months Old!

I took bubbies to the pediatrician on May 4, but I am changing my post date to April 24 b/c that is when he actually turned 15 months.

He was such a good little boy at the doctor's office, and so was his sister. Poor little thing had to get a splinter removed from his hand and two shots, on in his arm and one in his leg. P asked lots of questions when bubbies was getting checked out. She HAD to know everything the doctor was doing. It was very cute. I immediately thought- OH, she wants to be a doctor when she grows up! hahaha! What am I, her mom?

Anyhow, he didn't roll into the 90 - 100th percentile for his weight this time. He actually ran into the 50th percentile for weight and the 90th for height. He is turning into his sister, long and lean. We'll see, though. Seems his chub factor is increasing lately. I like him chubby, so I am happy about the added rolls and ooey gooey belly.

Ethan's "Purple Crayon"

Givin' kisses

P lovin' bubbies

Yes, I told her to give her brother a kiss...but that was only after she did it herself. My two babes love each other, but P can also be very "mine-focused" and kind of mean to her little brother sometimes. I have to keep reminding her that he is just a little guy and she has to be careful. I am amazed at how well he takes it, and also sad that sometimes he gets the shaft. Sibling love/rivalry...I guess that is what it is all about. I think children act out of what they see from their role models (particularly me and hubby) and from their surroundings. Hubby and I try really hard not to have arguments in front of the kids, and we fail miserably, but we at least try. My parents didn't try. They fought all the time when I was growing up or said said mean things to each other on a pretty regular basis. I think that is part of the reason Paxton and I fought so much...our role models did it and that is what we thought we were supposed to do. That is part of the reason I really hate myself when I am angry and the kids have to deal with my anger. Last time I was totally pissed off I called my poor friend Susan and vented. She told me to see a therapist...hahaha! just joking.

I have seen other brother and sister pairs that either ignore each other or are so mean to each other that it makes you gasp. My children are not mean...they do some things that aren't nice, but all in all they are very loving and kind individuals. I feel fortunate that their true nature is beautiful and that their little mishaps are probably just because of their age...or they are pissed at mommy for a yet another time out (thank you P for testing the waters.). I am not surprised - hubby is one of the nicest people I know and he passed on some of those good genes...that is part of the reason I married him. He doesn't talk about people, he makes fun of them to their face, but he never talks about people in general. His thought is "there are people who talk about people, people who talk about things, and then people who talk about ideas. I want to be a person who talks about ideas." I admire that...and wish I could stop being such a fence hen. hahaah! But c'mon, Paula Abdul is a train wreck.

The Easter Bunny Came to Our House!!

Easter Bunny at our door

I was upstairs giving the kids a bath when I heard the doorbell ring. I thought it was just the girl scouts or one of our local high schoolers collecting for sports or what not, and thought hubby would just handle it. Well, hubby comes running up the stairs and says the kids HAVE to come down because the Easter Bunny was at the door. P, bubbies, and I just looked at him stunned as if we were thinking "yeah, right." He said he was serious so we wrapped the wet kids in towels and took them downstairs. The Easter Bunny was indeed at our door with the cutest little baskets full of candy and an Easter egg. How stinkin' cute. I love my neighborhood. We have such special people who are always doing something nice....such as dressing up in a bunny costume to deliver baskets to the kids.

P with the Easter baskets from the bunny

Hubby and I were laughing because bubbies is so different than P. bubbies inhales candy, and when P was his age she was playing with it because I told her candy was toys. My boy is far too smart to be outwitted when it comes to food. hahaha! So, they are both upstairs on a sugar high with their daddy.

bubbies dives right into the candy

P cracks me up

P has been cracking me up lately. I am starting to see some foreshadowing into her teens years, and I am not so sure I am ready for it! A few things that have me concerned:

1. The other day I saw her lounging out on her kitty chair with her feet propped up on the table. She was twisting her hair round and round with one hand and the other hand she was pretending to be on the phone.

2. She turned on the TV and a soap opera was on. I said I was going to change it and she said "nooo! I am watching this! Turn it up."

3. She answered my phone and had a conversation with my friend Stephanie....for like 5 minutes.

4. She yells at me like I am the child and she it the adult. "Pick up the toys, mommy. Be sure to put the dishes away! Don't eat your food if it is too hot!"

5. And, finally, this was what I found:

Our Garden

I am so excited about my garden and growing plants from seed this year. It is awesome mommy and P time to put together the little pods and then stick them in the windowsill. We are currently growing broccoli, tomatoes (grape and biggies), lavender, basil, lemon/lime basil, cilantro and marigolds for her fairy garden. I am planting seed out for carrots and spinach as soon as it warms up just a bit more - so probably later this week or this weekend. My thyme, oregano, and parsley came back - who knew! Hubby and I are deciding about another area of the yard. He wants to plant fruit bushes, but I want to grow squash. I think the fruit bushes would be fun, but I am concerned with thorns and bees. But, I guess I can just teach the kids to be careful. duh. Guess I best get researching on the best fruit to grow outside (thinking it will be berries in Ohio...yummy!)

The best part of gardening it doing it with P. She loves to help. She helped pick out seed, went with me to Beth's, who so kindly shared tomato, carrot, lavender, and butternut seed with me. She is a potager gardener and has done a ton of research on growing veggies. I like reading over her gardening blog for helpful suggestions: http://potagergardengirl.com/.

P also filled the pod pots, put the seed in the pots, and even sings to them and welcomes them to the morning. We love the Inch by Inch Garden Song and sing it to the plants so they know they are "loved." We are crazy, I know, but I think giving loving words to my plants will help them grow. Who doesn't like nice things said to them? I generally say "My your soil looks awfully rich today." or "How about a nice drink of the good stuff?" or "You are going to grow up to be HOT." You know, sweet nothings that make seeds grow.

The Garden Song

Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna make this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
And a piece of fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm them from below
'Til the rain comes tumbling down

Pulling weeds and pickin' stones
Man is made from dreams and bones
Feel the need to grow my own
'Cause the time is close at hand
Grain for grain, sun and rain
Find my way in nature's chain
To my body and my brain
To the music from the land

Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna make this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
And a piece of fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm them from below
'Til the rain comes tumbling down

Plant your rows straight and long
Thicker than with pray'r and song
Mother Earth will make you strong
If you give her love and care
Old crow watchin' hungrily
From his perch in yonder tree
In my garden I'm as free
As that feathered thief up there

Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna make this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
And a piece of fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Someone bless the seeds I sow
Someone warm them from below
'Til the rain comes tumbling down

'Til the rain comes tumbling down

Lights! Camera! Action!

I just did a piece with WBNS 10TV on being a stay-at-home mom and why I decided to quit my job to do it. The segment came about through my cousin who is the PR guru at Ohio Health. I actually used to work with the producer who came to the house. She is a wonderful woman and totally reminded me of a younger version of my Aunt Millie.

I "prepped" my 2 yo by telling her that we were having guests who wanted to talk to us and take pictures of us. P was excited because I told her that there was a photographer coming with a really cool camera. I said we'd ask him to show us how it worked. When the producer and photographer arrived P was SO excited to see them. She couldn't wait to see the camera and she grabbed her camera to show the photographer. He seemed to really enjoy showing her the camera, how it worked, and just talk to her. I was so enamored by my little girl being so interested and so polite about it. She just smiled and looked and listened.

We went down to the play area for the interview. The kids were awesome. The baby was really good about staying out of the shot and not crying to be held. Both of my children were so well behaved, smiley, and welcoming to our guests. I was such a proud mommy.

I feel lucky to have had an experience like that because it is just another thing to expose my children to. Things like the interview and having the news at our home showed the kids another part of the world, and allowed them (and me) to meet new and interesting people. Plus, I just got P a digital camera. She steals mine all the time to take pics...and, she is a good little photographer! I wanted to get her a digital camera for Christmas, but with everything else I thought I'd wait until her birthday. Mainly because they aren't cheap! Well, I came across one on Craiglist that was in great condition...and only, get this...$10. I looked online for a similar camera and they were $60 - $130. This is probably the best deal I have ever taken advantage of in my life. Anyhow, meeting a "real live" photographer seemed to be so fitting given her interest in taking pictures.

We had fun and can't wait to see how we did! It is going to air in the 5pm news...since I worked in media relations for years I know that this is one of the more popular time slots. I hope I don't look like a jerk.

WHAT?!

Okay, all mommies have a case of "what did you say?" from one time to another just from sheer lack of understanding. Well, I had the doozie from my daughter today. This morning I was changing her diaper on her bed and bubbies was playing in her toy box. She screams "I want my cock."

I tried so hard not to look in complete horror at what she said. I calmly said "what do you want, honey?" She said again "I want my cock." Then it hit me - bubbies was playing with her plush Golden Macaw she got for Christmas. She was asking for her Macaw......I either am hard of hearing or have an extremely dirty mind.

no comments from the peanut gallery.

May Coco RIP

My mom called me crying yesterday. Their Shar Pei Coco took a turn for the worse and my dad had to take him to MedVet. They had to put him down. I am so sad.

I spoke with hubby because I don't know what to say to P. She loved "Cokie" so much and when I would say we are going to Grammies and Papa's house she immediatly would pipe up "AND COCO and PHEEBEEEEE?!!!" Coco always made her giggle and was always full of licks for her. That dog loved bubbies too. Never failed, first thing Coco would do was give a big floppy jawled drool lick to the baby's head. bubbies' head would be half dry, half wet the rest of the day.

My poor parents. They are so distraught. This is the third Shar Pei they have lost in ten years. Luckily, Phoebe is strong and will hopefully be around a lot longer. She is already nine and fighting cancer like a trooper. I am keeping my fingers crossed that the chemo keeps working!!



When I got home yesterday I gave lots of love to my two stinky dogs. I seriously don't know what I'd do without them. They are my two other children. I can't even think of them getting old and sick....just can't go there.

Let's fly a kite!

I took the kids Targeting in hopes of finding some fun outside toys. It is getting warmer here and I don't have much for them to play with in the backyard. Well...sticks, dirt and stones seem to keep them busy, but I really do hate that they both think taking the dirt out of my flower box is fun. I am afraid when I plant our veges this spring I'll have no dirt to put the plants in! Plus, we aren't cavemen.

In our toy search I saw a small area with kites. A KITE! Yes, that seemed like the perfect afternoon fun because it was a bit windy and warm enough to play outside for an extended period of time. Kites were cheap. I mean, I think I paid $6.99 for it. Of course, it is plastic and has giant Big Bird, Elmo and Cookie Monster faces on it, but it certainly does the job. I could have chosen Spider Man, the Power Rangers or Barbie...I opted for something that seemed to suit a 2.5 and a 1 year old, so Sesame Street it was. I went to Big Lots and found an even cheaper kite made by the same manufacturer - this time I chose Dora and it was $2.80 (I get a corporate discount since my hubby heads up their web department). They may be cheap and plastic, but man can they fly.

I loaded the kids up in the wagon and took a stroll to the school parking lot down the street. Great place because we reduced our risk of kite stuck in tree or kite melting on powerline. I unrolled the string and barely got the kite together before it flew up in the air. The wind was perfect. I handed the reigns to my daughter and she freaked out. I think the wind was a little strong and that kite seemed like it was going to lift her off the ground! As she was crying for me to take the string the boy decided to run off through the parking lot. For being no bigger than a minute, that kid can run...FAST! There I was trying to help P with the kite while chasing my son praying a car wouldn't come around the corner or that he wouldn't fall on the concrete.

Once I got a hold of the kite and the kid, both P and bubbies played in the wagon. I flew the kite and acted as if I was 12 again. I was giggling, cheering, oohing and ahhing at the kite flitting around in the air. I loved it. I can't wait to do it again!

My Mouth

I used to get in trouble for my loud mouth all the time at work. I was a really good, quiet student - felt I had to uphold that "AP" status by seeming demure and studious...not loud and obnoxious. College turned me - and now I am full of energy of the mouth. I was constantly being asked to quiet down at work - they'd say "your laugh is infectious, but keep the infection to yourself." I even got fired from a bakery I worked in because I talked too much. Now I find my mouthy medium online. Thank goodness for blogs and twitter and other social platforms such as Facebook. However, I have recently found out that what I have posted online has ended up on the local news. My mouth is obviously not quiet even when it is typed.

Channel 4 posted my comment to children and spas. It was read in their Live at 5 and I had no idea! Here is what I wrote:

"I am not surprised about a spa day for little ones, but I am surprised
that it is used for them to "relax." I would think it would be fun as a
birthday party or a special day with mommy, but because they have too
much stress? c-mon. Stick them outside to play for a while. :)"

Then on Channel 10 about the use of coupons...again no idea:

"I hate coupons. Hubby makes me get the Dispatch hoping I'll cut them, but I don't. I should, though. :)"

I think this is rather funny - and I thought my comments were funny when I wrote them.

The Year of the Sick

Does the Year of the Sick exist? I know the year of the dog and the year of the rabbit do, but what about a year for all of us who are sick constantly? My children and I have been sick so much that if I worked out of the house I would have used up all of my sick days...and it isn't even the end of February! Coughing, hacking, runny noses, fevers - some high, some low - does it really matter when you feel like crap?, and lots of crankiness have plagued my house for at least 6 out of the 8 weeks of the new year. Suck a duck.

I blame my current illness symptoms on running out of my prenatal vitamin, because I have to blame SOMEONE or SOMETHING, you know. When I finally get around to picking the expensive little purple pills up I am told they have been recalled. What? Then I ask the pharmacist why and she doesn't know. She said it could be packaging, it could be a complaint, it could freaking be anything. Now, that is not cool. I am hyper-sensitive to recalls because we think a hormone that ended up being recalled is reason my MIL got cancer. She was taking one of the hormones in early stages of menopause that ended up being linked to causing ovarian cancer. I haven't done research on this, and I do not remember the name of what she was taking except for the fact that it started with a "P." It was pulled years ago.

Anyhow, the prenatal I was/am taking (I am still nursing my son) is called Primacare. It was the only prenate I could take when I was pregnant with my kids because it didn't make me sick. You can view the recall letters and press releases on their site here: http://www.ther-rx.com/recallInfo.aspx.

Nice, right? I am feeling rather punchy if you can't tell. I am supposed to go to Disney on Ice with "just the girls" - my mom, aunts and cousies - and I am feeling worse than I did when I woke up. Maybe I will just medicate myself so I can go. I really want to see P's face when the show starts.

Curried Peas

The main reason for this post is because my friend Susan asked me to post my recipe for curried peas. I took dinner for bubbies to her house when she had the V-day party, and it seems the curried peas made some mouths water. I am thinking if Susan wants the recipe others may too. I don't know how to put tabs up on my blog, so I am posting the recipe at the end of this entry. You quite possibly have everything in your home to make this delish side dish...and hopefully if you have kids they will like them as much as mine do.

Okay - seriously? Curried peas? Yes, curried peas. I have become addicted to frozen veggies this winter merely because they are cheaper, they don't spoil quickly, they are easy, and most of all - the baby will inhale them. It is an awesome site to see my baby pick broccoli over a cracker. When P was eating table foods as a baby I thought I HAD to feed her fresh veggies only. I went overboard with the whole natural, organic thing and would let food rot in my fridge that she didn't eat because I was worried frozen veggies lost their nutritional value. Well, not so. Actually, frozen veggies are flash frozen to KEEP their nutrition and stay as close to fresh when defrosted as possible. What was I thinking??? I could kick myself because I bet P would be a GREAT veggie eater if I would have given her more of a variety to choose from; and, I can't imagine how much money I would have saved.

I struggle with making the same meals over and over again. If I see my kids eat a meal heartily I will make that meal more than once, twice, sometimes three times a week because "they like it!" Well, as other mommies know, kids are fickle. They may LOVE applesauce for a week and then not touch again for months. Then I am back as square one: trying to figure out good nutritious dishes for the babes that they will eat, I will eat, and possibly the hubby will eat. I try to mix up how I fix meat, eggs or potatoes so the kids will keep stuffing their little faces... even if it is just out of curiousity. I do secret hoorays in my head when P eats two peas. I feel I accomplished "vitamin input."

When P was a baby I bought The Petit Appetite Cookbook: Easy, Organic Recipes to Nurture Your Baby and Toddler by Lisa Barnes. It is chocked full of delicious, easy dishes that I would never in a million years thought to make. For instance: the curried peas. bubbies not only loves this side dish, he adores it. He even shares them with friends...take a look:

bubbies feeding his buddy Becca

Here's the recipe:

Curry and Herb Peas

1 tablespoon unsalted butter
2 garlic cloves, minced (I used minced from a jar)
1 teaspoon curry powder
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/3 cup water
16 ounces fresh or frozen organic peas
1/2 cup chopped cilantro (optional - I never use it)

Heat butter in large saucepan over medium heat. When foam subsides, add garlic to pan and quickly saute until light brown. Stir in curry powder, cumin, water and peas and simmer until peas are tender and heated through, about 5 minutes. Stir in cilantro, if desired.

Still making me giggle.

Hubby is really a funny guy. He is very sweet and doesn't have a mean bone in his body...unless it involves waking the children or doing something he thinks is stupid...then he can be quite scary.

For instance, a stupid thing AND a waking the children thing:

It is 9 at night and sweet silence is about to enter our home. Hubby and I are getting excited for the last child to lay their head down for the night so we can finally relax and unwind. I am upstairs getting the babies off to dreamland. bubbies has drifted into REMs and P is slowly ready to lay in her bed when the doorbell rings. Mind you, we are not expecting anyone. The doorbell is loud. What is even louder is that the dogs start barking, and if you know anything about mini-schnauzers the one thing you do know is that their bark is shrill and could break glass. I was startled. I kind of just sat in P's rocking chair completely stiff for about 30 seconds wondering if she was going to start crying and need more beddy beddytime attention. She did not. The boy didn't wake up, either. By the grace of the gods, my children didn't nudge.

I put P in bed and just listened before I came down the stairs wondering if I should have a mad face or a happy face (totally depended on who the visitor was). Hubby was in the kitchen shaking his head. I asked him who was at the door. He said:

"Save the children was at the door. I told the guy he JUST WOKE THE CHILDREN and asked him if he realized it was 9 at night in the winter. What the heck are you doing ringing doorbells so late?"

I started laughing. Hubby was genuinely PO'd. I giggled. Hubby finally smiled. It was quite funny. I asked what the guy did. Hubby said he just slumbered off and made the "I dunno" shrug of his shoulders. Quite strange.

For the love of breathing

We are just now getting over being the House of Sick (even though you can't tell by our punchy moods). It has been three weeks of congestion, sniffles, coughing, headaches, sore throats and fevers. We were all full of some sort of cold relief cocktail: Tylenol or Motrin, sinus medication and cough drops. Hubby even stayed home from work because his head was swimming and his throat was on fire.

The children were coughing incessantly (P still is hacking away) and had fevers on and off. They are still dealing with runny noses, but I can totally handle that. The hardest part to handle, besides the moody moodieness and crawling into my bed at 2am, was bubbies began wheezing and laboring for his breath. I am all too familiar with how painful and scary not being able to catch your breath can be because I have had allergy induced asthma since I was a child. The feeling of being suffocated is horrific. I do not want my children going through that, and when I saw bubbies having a hard time breathing I was getting panniky. His little appetite dwindled from the cold, but even with a 105 degree fever he was eating. It wasn't until he started wheezing and laboring for air did he stop eating. He would just take a bite of food and cough, take a bite of food and cough. And, it wasn't a productive cough. That is when I decided to call my pediatrician.

I was literally scared to death that he was going to suffocate in his sleep. The doctor assured me that he would be fine and to just bring him in the next morning if he was still having problems. The next morning happened to be the morning that we got dumped on with snow and even Big Lots! corporate offices were closed...luckily, not my pediatrician's office. bubbies was still having a hard time breathing and I had to take him in. While in the office they did a breathing treatment, which thankfully helped him out. The breathing treatment consisted of using a nebulizer and a face mask. I had to hold the face mask over his nose and mouth for ten minutes and allow him to breath in the albuterol treatment. The medicine comes out in a fine mist the baby had to breath in. It was not fun; it was taxing. The baby cried and screamed, tried to wiggle out of my arms, and tried to take the mask off the whole time. ugh. At home it was MUCH better.

The doc told me some children wheeze when they get colds and it doesn't mean they have or will get asthma. Their wheezing is similar, though, to an asthma attack in that the airways are swollen and air has a hard time passing through. It is not mucus, it is inflammation. Okay, well, okay. Yeah.

They sent me home with a nebulizer and prescription for albuterol to use with it. I administered treatments for two days and was able to stop. I do need to keep the machine and a supply of medication on hand just in case it happens again. Seems like just one more thing with this baby, I swear! God love him.

One thing I didn't consider, and should have...bad mommy...was that I had given the treatments for a full day when P wasn't around. The second day in the morning P came down the stairs and saw bubbies getting a treatment for the first time. She freaked out a little bit. I was very calm and explained it to her. She asked if she would have to do it too and then wanted to wear the fishy mask. I let her decorate the machine for her baby brother with stickers.

Just for fun

I had to do a creative writing exercise for my language arts class. I was surprised when I started doing my assignment because it seemed like the ideas just flowed. I became so "programmed" to think in certain ways at my old PR job or to regurgitate material from textbooks for class that I kind of lost my creative juices. I seriously had a hard time even coming up something to write in a birthday card that was meaningful...it was very, very strange. I guess because business creative is far from creating characters and stories. In business you are given your subject and then you think about your angles and press releases. Free writing is so much harder because you have to create everything yourself.

Anyhow, I wrote a cute little story that I thought I'd share.

Love Potion?

I was so stupid to think I could order love potion online that actually worked. What was I thinking? Three payments of $19.95 was supposed to reward me with the kind of love affair “you only see in movies such as Ghost, Romeo and Juliet, and Titanic.” I completely fell for the worse infomercial that had ever been on late night cable TV. My love life had really been in the gutter, and I had been trying to catch the eye of the bank teller who cashed my check every Friday. He looked just like Johnny Depp and smelled like a mixture of sandlewood and crisp mountain air in the winter. The problem was, he never knew I existed. He never looked up from his desk after he called “next” to the person waiting for a bank transaction. Why did I torture myself? I used to make up excuses to stay in line, which got time consuming and ridiculous. I was late for work twice because I kept taking fake urgent work calls just so I could have him deposit my check. Love potion seemed to make sense, or at least make him look up. I hoped.

The third Wednesday in March the package arrived at my doorstep. My precious vial of what I thought was going to help award me the man of my dreams was packaged in a plain brown box. The label was handwritten and looked as if the person who wrote it certainly had been receiving the AARP magazine for quite some time. The clear packaging tape was sloppily holding the flaps of the box together which made the tape easy to pull off the box. I loathe trying to open packages taped up like Fort Knox, and having my package show up easy to open seemed like foreshadowing that things would work out in my favor.

I stood in my tiny white kitchen, took a deep breath and slowly pulled the tape off the top of my package. White packing peanuts fell promptly onto my counter and I had to keep swatting Betty, my black Persian cat, away from eating them. After fishing around for a few seconds in the sea of Styrofoam I placed my fingers around the smooth glass vial. The vial was blue and shimmered in the light reflecting beautiful rainbow colors. I could see the liquid inside was thick and tar-like. The sound of Betty’s playful meows broke my concentration on the vial and I looked in the box to see if there were instructions. From the box I pulled a sheet of roughly torn notebook paper that had written on it “Drink after breakfast. See the person you want. Prick your finger to draw blood and then touch his/her top right hand with the finger that is bleeding. Be sure to do exactly this or you’ll be sorry. No refunds.” Seemed easy enough, kind of gross, but I thought I could manage it.

Getting through the rest of Wednesday and Thursday seemed to be an eternity. Friday morning came and I woke up smiling. Anticipation and excitement filled my body. I felt warm and giddy. My shower was long and hot with all the at-home spa treatments I could squeeze into an hour. I pulled my hair up and slid into my hippest pair of Lucky blue jeans and Jimmy Choo heels. I felt like a million bucks, and I looked like it too. Looking in the mirror at myself after a nice swipe of red lipstick, I wondered why he never paid attention to me, or any other girl for that matter. Well, not anymore. Hopefully this potion would work and he’d be mine!

I skipped down the hall from my bedroom to the kitchen, kissed Betty and then carefully placed the vial in my purse. Heading to work I hummed a little tune my mom used to sing to me when I was young and let out a little giggle because I couldn’t wait to cash my check. 11:00 AM came quickly that morning. I snatched my check from the boss and ran to the bank. I pricked my finger, got in line. There he was in all of his glory. I started to shake. How on earth was I going to pull this off? But, no way was I going to have second thoughts.

I waited in line, he called my name, I slipped him my check and looked down at my hand to be sure my finger was still bleeding. Calmly I raised my finger as he handed my check back to me and swiped his LEFT hand. Oh no! Oh No! I was scared to see what on earth was going to happen. The note said I would be sorry if I didn’t follow the directions exactly.

I don’t need to tell you what happens to a woman who goes into a bank with a bloody finger and tries to grab a teller.

But, while my new accommodations are cold and I don’t really like the bars I stare at everyday, the good news is: there is this guard. He is so adorable. Looks just like Johnny Depp and smells like a mixture of sandlewood and crisp mountain air in the winter. And, for just three payments of $19.95 I could make him fall in love with me and maybe get out of this rat trap…

Ballet

P started ballet lessons four weeks ago. I love getting her dressed for class and talking about dancing. We discuss the different exercises and she "practices" at home. In class she is very shy sitting close to mommy and bubbies, venturing out now and again to join the other dancers. I am thinking next time I sign her up I won't sit in class. I thought it would make her more comfortable, but I don't think it helps get her out of her shell. She certainly participates in her own way, and generally by the end of class she is running around with the rest of them. She just takes a while to warm up I guess. I shouldn't be surprised, she has been this way her whole little life. Even in playgroup she gets shy with the other mommies and she has known them for two years.

Mrs. Dana, the ballet teacher, told P she was very proud of her today because she did a lot of participating. I made sure to give P tons of kudos and we talked about how much fun today was in class. I don't want to be a pushy mother but I do want her to at least try new things. We'll do ballet again - she seems to really like it when she does it, and I see the potential in her. She understands direction well and can switch from foot to foot with little effort with tandus - I can see that can be difficult for young ones. I definitely get that "mother's joy" when I see her leaping and twirling about.

36 and Cancer.

One of my very best friends from college was diagnosed with cancer last summer and had a radical hysterectomy. Her bio below will be published soon. She continues to get the word out about the Digene HPV Test to hopefully help with early detection. Here is her story in her words:

"I never thought at 36 years old that my life would be affected by cancer. In May 2008, I went to the OB/GYN for my annual Pap test as I do every year. My doctor had recently started administering the Digene HPV test in his practice and his Nurse Practitioner decided to perform this test along with my regular Pap test to screen for cervical cancer at this visit. She explained to me that the HPV test was approved for women aged 30 and over to detect high-risk strains of HPV. Since the sample is collected at the same time as the Pap and requires no additional procedures at the office, I agreed to have it run.

My Pap test came back normal, but the HPV test came back "high-risk." I have always had normal annual Pap results and have been in a monogamous relationship for 9 years so, to have the test results return positive for "high-risk" HPV was a shock. Because the HPV results came back "high-risk", the pathologist took a second and closer look at the Pap test and discovered that what was originally passed off as a "normal" Pap was in fact abnormal and had slipped through the cracks as a false negative. The correct diagnosis for my abnormal Pap test reported High-Grade Squamous Intraepithelial Lesions.

What happened next was a big blur. My doctor suggested a Colposcopy and then a LEEP. My LEEP came back showing full-thickness invasive adenosquamous carcinoma. I was immediately sent to have a CT and a chest xray and then to an oncologist for a consultation.
A few days later I was being prepped for a radical hysterectomy. After the surgery I learned that the cancer was stage 1B and the final pathology report from the surgery showed no signs of metastasis. I can’t help but think how my life would be different if the high-risk HPV had not been identified. Would they have been able to find the cancer before it had spread? Would I have had to go through radiation and chemo? Would I be able to watch my son grow up? Would I still be alive today? Everyday I thank my doctor and nurse practitioner for performing the test that saved my life.

I am currently in my last quarter of the Family Nurse Practitioner program and have chosen to write my masters thesis on the Digene HPV Test. I hope that this information will encourage other providers to include the Digene HPV test in their routine Pap exams. Due to this technology I am alive to see my life unfold and to share my story with others."

Happy Birthday One Year Old!!

Wow! This year FLEW by! For the record, this is what he is up to:

• walking
• climbing stairs
• communicating through babbling
• drinking rice milk from a sippy
• is a really good eater. loves beans.
• smiles all the time
• loves to play
• can self-entertain
• loves to take baths
• wears 12 - 18 month clothes
• travels well