Saturday, November 20, 2010

Moving On...

I am just about to get my many, many sites and blogs all in order again.  Like Purpose Driven Mom, I've moved this site to Wordpress too. 

You can find this blog now at domandlori.wordpress.com

As for my other sites, they are:
http://www.thepurposedrivenmom.com/
http://www.twoconvertsblogging.com/
http://www.domandlori.net/
and soon, to tie it all together, past and present, http://www.lorimainiero.com/

See ya on the flip side!

Saturday, October 09, 2010

Observations of Youth – 20 years later…

This is the weekend of my high school reunion. Twenty years have flown by and now we are all adults with jobs, mortgages, and actual responsibilities. And if we had only known then what we know now…

Dom and I went to the Viking Homecoming football game. Aaron went with us. Neither of my men had ever had the experience of a high school football game on a balmy Friday night, so I was thrilled to share with them what was such a prominent part of my teenage experience.

Various scenes throughout the evening made me smile with complete satisfaction that high school is still a bubble all to itself. And other scenes reminded me of the ups and downs inside that bubble. Here is what I observed:

High school football does not discriminate your age at the gate. You will pay full price whether you are 8 or 80. $21 later, we were granted entrance. (I have never before in my life paid for entrance into a game - one of the perks of being in the band!)

I had buried deep in my memory the smell of the stadium at night. There is excitement under the stadium lights, just as the sun is dropping into the horizon. And the announcer’s voice has the ability to alter time – at least for me.

We saw my nephew, Jacob, now a Freshman at Airline. He was four months old at our wedding, which you know was juuuuuust yesterday. I was struck by how much he fit in with the crowd – handsome and carefree – and I marveled at how he had grown. Then I realized Aaron will be a Freshman in four short years, and I had to wipe my eyes.

Confession: I used to not like kids. Yeah, I know it sounds like a stupid thing to say, but bear with me. I really didn’t like kids – until I had kids of my own. And then, I noticed that my tolerance of kids grew with their age-progression. I liked all children younger than mine – consistently. I have never cared for teenagers that I didn’t know personally. I think, in my Peter Pan way of refusing to admit that I’m getting older, I still felt too “close” in age to them. (Seriously, until very recently I still felt 25.) But for the first time this weekend, I began to see teenagers as a mother sees them rather than as a peer sees them. As I observed the students in the stands Friday night, I could imagine Aaron and Victoria in their places, and I know that will be my reality all too soon.

I observed that high school girls can still be cruel. And high school boys can still be perfect gentlemen.

We hadn’t really thought about it before last night, but it occurred to us as we watched hoards of students texting and snapping iPhone pics, that even our parents didn’t have cell phones when we were in high school. I swear, at the moment of that realization I felt another hair turn gray.

As we left the game shortly after half-time (Aaron was dog-tired) I looked into the empty end-zone near the exit. For a brief moment, I saw myself standing just past that end-zone with my friends where the lights don’t shine as bright, waiting in preparation for the half-time show. I remembered the nervousness I would feel each half-time, the bounce of the grass, the sound of the drums, and the faces that surrounded me – some I will never see again. That end-zone didn’t look as large and overwhelming as it once did, but it still looked like home – the home of my nerdy, naïve teenage past. That quiet, proud little dark-haired girl I used to be probably still roams the halls and haunts the practice field with a thousand other ghosts, reveling in what proves for most to be the last bastion of innocence and the premier experience of loyalty.

Twenty years…

Go Vikes!

Thursday, October 07, 2010

Happy Birthday, Mason!

Today our furry first-born turns 11 years old! Even though I did not celebrate Mabel quite so much on her birthday, plenty of blog posts have been dedicated to her notoriety, so I don’t feel bad doting on Monkey for an entire post on his “77th” birthday!

But he’s just so darn cute, pictures are the only way to do this right. So here they are, snippets of the Yella Dog photo album:

6-weeks old, November 1999


New Year's Snow, January 1, 2000


Just One of the Boys, 2001

Wearing Daddy’s shirt, 2001

“This babysitting gig is tough!” 2003

“Did somebody say McDawnowd’s?!!” 2004


The Things We Do For The Kids, 2007


Peace, Love, Monkey, May 2008


“What the heck did you bring home?!!” November 2008


After surgery for ruptured ear vessels, 2009.


“You go on to work. I’ll be right here when you get back!” 2010

Eleven years of Monkey love is enough to make us overlook the fur on the sofa, the scratches on the door, and the memories of chewed-up shoes, sofas and remote controls. He’s a genuinely happy guy, and we love him for all the smiles, hugs and wags we get every day.

Happy Birthday, Monk. You’re the Best Yella Dog EVER!!

Sunday, October 03, 2010

Mabel Label: Bless Her Little Heart!!

In celebration of the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi tomorrow, our church had a Blessing of the Pets today, complete with low-cost vaccinations provided by Southern Hills Animal Hospital. While we have never been to a Blessing of the Pets, due to our certain embarrassment by our furry children, we have always wanted to go. Now that Mabel was due her Parvo booster, and this was a perk of participating, we were sure to attend. We debated on bringing the bunnies, then what about Mason, and Dom finally put his foot down and declared, “If you want to take all the animals, take them, but I’m only taking Mabel.”

Oh. Ok.

We did fear that the bunnies would somehow escape, and not knowing what to expect from the ceremony, and sure that Mabel would cause us some embarrassment anyway, we all agreed to only take Mabel to be blessed. I joked that a blessing might not be enough…for her, we should request a full-blown exorcism.

We put on her training collar and headed to the church. Now, are you ready for this? Are you sitting down?

Mabel was an absolute ANGEL. Halo and all.

I know, I know…we were amazed too. In fact, while Mabel sat her “pretty sit” right at Dom’s feet and gingerly observed all the other animals, Dom and I repeatedly picked our jaws up off of the ground. Our sweet Franciscan priests read passages from the Bible that related to animals, and then offered a general blessing to all pets in attendance. They further offered that anyone wanting a special personal blessing for their pet was welcome to come forward.

Hey, let’s get everything we can while we’re here, right? Dom and I walked up with Mabel where Father Francis gave her a special blessing and sprinkled her with the holy water.

As my mom said, “And it didn’t sizzle?” No, it really didn’t, much to my surprise.

And Mabel didn’t freak, either. She took everything in stride – from the plethora of tiny dogs yipping and running around to the shot in her hip, she was so sweet and gentle and GOOD. Really, really GOOD. We were even asked if she hunts… THAT’S how well behaved she was being!

So, for all the times I wrote about the wrongs of Mabel’s youth - for all the food she has stolen, clothes she has eaten, and yes, even for the call to Animal Poison Control – today she shined like the stars.

Way to go, Mabelline! Kisses to you!! (and an extra Milk-Bone!)

Saturday, October 02, 2010

Happy Birthday, Dominic!!!


Today Dom finally catches up with me. Those 8 months between my birthday in February and his in October seem to last an eternity, what with him and the kids reminding me that I am, in fact, “older.” For the next four months I will revel in the fact that we are once again “the same age,” if only temporarily. In celebration of the most wonderful man I know, here are the top 38 reasons he makes my world smiley:


(Drum roll, please…)

38. When I switched all household, personal care and food products to natural and organic, he didn’t complain one bit. He willingly accepted the natural shave gel, shampoo and toothpaste I imposed on him.

37. He kindly offers to go to the grocery store for me. However, he also understands my controlling and cost-comparing nature, bids me bon voyage, and is always there to help unload when I finally come home from four stores.

36. He is an awesome dad!

35. He is the kid-approved Accelerated Math double-checker.

34. He voluntarily does dishes and floors.

33. He tolerates my home-improvement projects, participates, and acknowledges the success when the project is over.

32. He willingly crawled through attic insulation in the dead heat of summer, scraping skin and smashing his head on wooden beams, all so that I could have separate fan and light switches for a new ceiling fan.

31. He is willing to let me dig up 60 square feet of our back yard for a vegetable garden.

30. When I told him I wanted beneficial nematodes (parasitic bugs) to kill some termites in our flowerbed, he laughed out loud, but let me order them anyway.

29. He has started to take a liking to the bunny rabbits. And even though the bunnies were never his idea or preference, he gently guides the kids in taking care of the rabbits.

28. Despite the fact that he always said, “No dogs on the furniture!” he was the one who first invited Mason up into the bed.

27. He always looks great in a pair of Ray-Bans.

26. He agreed to be the King of Hearts in a joint Halloween costume when we were in college. Who wouldn’t love a man for that?!

25. He lets Mabel lay across his feet at night, even though it is incredibly uncomfortable, because he knows that’s where she’s happiest.

24. He gets tickets for us to see Trans-Siberian Orchestra every year.

23. When I am stressed, worried, or otherwise out of sorts, he sends me to my Mom. He does all he can for me first, and then recognizes when there are things only a mother can fix.

22. He stepped out of his comfort zone so that we could become Eucharistic Ministers together at our church.

21. He calls me at work during the day just to say hi.

20. Even the butterflies love him.

19. He will watch all 6 hours of Lonesome Dove with me anytime I ask. He’s my Gus, and I’m his Lori-Darlin’.

18. He knows the lines from my favorite chic flicks. When I was in my own little world one day in the kitchen talking about a new cookbook I had and making reference to cooking something that “freezes beautifully” I trailed off into quoting the script of Steel Magnolias, finally ending with “Sammy Dewayne Desoto, WHAT is this in my Frigidaire?” From the den, I heard Dom in a southern drawl correctly reply, “Beer.”

17. It was Dom’s idea to go back to school for Accounting credits, and I am grateful that he convinced me to go back with him.

16. He respects nature and enjoys simple beauty.

15. He gladly does all the fun-parent things that I am too scared to do, like riding water-soaked roller coasters.

14. He’s always up for family pictures, even when I’m not.

13. He saves all cards that the kids and I give him.

12. He told me just this week that he buys Coors Light in bottles because he knows that’s the only beer I’ll drink.

11. When we travel, he likes to take extra time to do the fun and unique stuff. He’s willing to rent a car and drive umpteen miles to a winery so we can wander around cluelessly and buy wine that we can’t fly home with. He also will help me drink all the wine before we go home, so the money is not wasted.

10. He has never complained about a single thing I have cooked. If he doesn’t like something, he gently says, “This was okay, but you don’t have to make it again anytime soon.” And if he does like something, he grins and says, “That doesn’t suck!”

9. In a moment of mortal clarity in talking about our wills, I shared with him that I don’t believe I would survive if some cruel twist of fate were to take him from me, and that they would just have to dig his grave big enough for both of us. I’ll never forget the moment…he was reaching into the cabinet for his keys, and he said, “No. If I go first, then you still have work to do. Just know that I’ll be waiting for you.” At any rate, he doesn’t think I’m creepy for planning our funerals.

8. He bought a riding lawn mower. Even though I made fun of it in the beginning, it has proven to be one of the best investments EVER.

7. As Phoebe explained in an episode of Friends, he’s my lobster.

6. He wants me to hunt with him. He has prepared a deer stand this season so that we can sit comfortably together.

5. Moments like this…

4. He plays Chess with the kids, and he kicks my butt in Monopoly.

3. He dances with me in the bar of Ernest’s.

2. He likes my ideas (generally), listens to me talk, and when I wake him up to argue a point, he doesn’t run me out on a rail. He reads my blogs, listens to my music, and supports every wish I’ve ever had for myself. When he disagrees with me, he does so respectfully. He has never said anything to intentionally hurt my feelings, and his gentleness has taught me much about how to treat other people.

1. Even though I know better, he still says he’s the Lucky One.

It is as true today as the first time I said it, Dom: I love you more than life. Happy Birthday!!

Happy Birthday, Jessica!!!

I am completely remiss in not having posted this yesterday. I spent half the day trying to remember to text Jessica to wish her a Happy Birthday while she parties down at Disney World. Alas, I did not send the text before the day was done, so I am now sending a great big global wish to say Happy Birthday to the sweetest 26-year old I know!!


Here in traditional fashion are the Top Ten Reasons Jessica rocks:

1. She is a terrifically awesome magazine editor.

2. We share a fear of clowns, masks, and creepy faces.

3. She totally supports my natural and organic changes, and we share our experiences with all kinds of products.

4. Jessica said her dog Bonnie doesn’t like new people. Bonnie likes me. I felt like family.

5. We went to see the Goo Goo Dolls together this summer when they came to Shreveport. We had good seats, but Jessica still went right up to the stage and got some amazing pictures. I would never be brave enough to do that.

6. She introduced me to Thai and Vietnamese cuisine.

7. She is always willing coo with me over puppy pictures.

8. She studied in England and has some really cool stories.

9. She’s expecting her first child this spring, and I couldn’t be happier for her!!

10. She is sincerely kind and devastatingly beautiful.

Jess, I hope the Disney crew helped you and Mark celebrate right! See you Monday.

p.s. There will be cake of some sort at the office on Monday. If I have any control over the situation at all, it will be organic. ;) Love ya!!

Saturday, September 18, 2010

The Anti-Midas Touch

Yesterday and today have been a bit clumsy. It seems everything I try to do somehow causes injury to myself or others.

My first clue that I was meant to stay in bed came immediately after I put my makeup on, when I emerged into the bedroom in the dark and walked across the floor to my closet. In an instant, I was tripping on something terribly painful and it was biting me! Could a jellyfish possibly survive on my bedroom floor this far from the coast???? I limped to the closet and turned on the light. I had tripped on Mabel’s chew bone. Hard, jagged, lethal…

The drama continued at work. In a public ladies’ room I always flush with my foot. But on this particular occasion, as I reached with my foot, my sandal got caught on the handle and I lost my balance. The shoe wasn’t about to turn loose from the toilet or my foot, and I toppled forward, slamming my head into the bathroom wall. FOOT STILL ATTACHED TO THE TOILET.

During the lunch hour, I decided to go bra shopping. You may feel this is TMI, and I would generally agree. However, this information is pertinent to the story. Any time you try on a bra you have to see how it is going to look under clothing. So, I had grabbed a tank top from the rack for this purpose. The bra had a huge theft deterrent device attached to the back of the strap and the tank top had a dangling tag at the back. As I tried to remove the tank, the hangy-tag got caught on the theft device on the way up. I couldn’t get the tank top off of my body! It was wrapped around my head, the strain forcing the theft device to imbed into my shoulder blade. Amid pain and confusion, I wiggled and struggled until I could see out from under the neck of the tank, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Remember those cartoons where someone gets a frying pan smashed over the head, their neck disappears, and they wobble around bouncing off of walls until they spin and crash into the floor? That was me.

Then, last night when Dom and the kids came home I could hear Victoria crying. She immediately sought me out at the computer, and I could tell something was terribly wrong. Barely understandable, she cried out, “I busted my lip on Lucas’s head!!!” Sure enough, her top lip was swollen so that she resembled a duck-billed platypus. I reached for her and she threw herself into my arms. She was still standing by my chair when I decided to reposition myself in order to comfort her better. So I moved my chair and ROLLED ACROSS HER BARE TOE.

Bad mommy. Bad, bad mommy!

And the touch continues this morning. I was carrying a load of freshly folded towels up the stairs to where the kids were putting away clean clothes. The basket was piled high with my cushy clean towels, and I could barely see over the top of it. I definitely could not see the gate at the top of the stairs which was inappropriately closed. When I struck the gate with my legs, the basket of towels and the top half of my body tumbled over the top. Towels went everywhere. Fussing and growling, I opened the gate and stepped over all my strewn towels.

Then my offspring rescued me and broke the spell. Aaron and Victoria scooped down and began re-folding the towels. All the while, Aaron was explaining to me, “It’s okay, mommy. See, whenever something seems too big for you to do, we will always be there to help you. We may not be great folders, but you will never have to do it alone!”

Man, I love my kids!!

Thursday, September 02, 2010

You Have GOT to be Kidding Me!

You know, sometimes people just really get under my skin.

My sweet friend Jessica had run-ins with little old ladies this week, and while I laughed until my side hurt on the story about the mole, I came home to find I had my own beef with an old lady.

Actually, this lady might not be so old. Her children are probably younger than me, but her granddaughter is Victoria’s age. Here’s why my ears are steaming:

The granddaughter (we’ll call her Susie for the sake of protecting the innocent) is a friend of Victoria’s. Susie lives with her grandmother and her uncle. Vic made painstaking efforts to telephone Susie over the summer, at the cost of being yelled at by Susie’s uncle. Once, when she asked him why Susie wasn’t at home, the uncle growled at Victoria, “CHILD, you are not the BOSS of me!!”

Did I mention this dude is an adult? I forbade Victoria to ever dial that number again. I did NOT forbid her to play with Susie. I’ve had my misgivings about the adults in Susie’s life, and for that reason did not feel the need to converse with them at Back to School night. Perhaps I could have taken the higher road and wished them a good evening, but I was tired and it had been a long day and I just frankly didn’t feel like being kind if it meant being fake.

Today I picked Victoria up from school and she felt bad. Tummy trouble. Figuring some upset (pardon the pun) must have been the trigger, we began to discuss her day. We talked about the boys who bother her (I’m sure she gives as much as she takes!) and how she was sad today because of Susie.

(Sigh) “What happened with Susie?”

“Susie told me that I’m not allowed to play with her anymore. She said her grandma doesn’t want me anywhere near her. Her grandma thinks I’m irresponsible.”

“Why on earth would she think that?”

“None of the adults in her family like me. Her uncle REALLY doesn’t like me. And I was nice every time I called.”

I reassured her that her politeness had no impact on these people because they were obviously unhappy with themselves. I further explained that this was no great loss in my opinion, because Victoria had done nothing wrong.

“But her whole family HATES me!”

“Speaking of her whole family, where are Susie’s mom and dad?”

“They’re on parole.”

:-\

Saturday, August 07, 2010

Targeting Red

I had to go to Target tonight to pick out Aaron’s birthday presents. We decided to get him some games for his Nintendo and some Pokemon cards, which are all the rage with my children right now.

While I was waiting for Target Employee #1 to assist me in the video games, I watched several red-shirted employees laughing and talking as they set out the mother-load of school supplies. Red shirts darted in and out of the aisles while I stood tapping my toe by the electronics division. Finally, I decided to wander down to school supplies and fetch me an employee with a key to the game cabinet. He followed me willingly, and was quite courteous while digging out the last of the Lego Harry Potter and Pokemon Platinum games.

Next, I was off to locate Pokemon cards. Given that the cards are not in the toy department at WalMart, but rather hidden in a random aisle near the books and cigarettes, I decided to scout the Target check-out stands for the cards. After eight aisles, no luck, so I backtracked to the toy department. As I flew past the toy aisles, I suddenly spotted two red shirts standing back to back on one aisle, obviously doing inventory like the other crew I had witnessed in school supplies.

“Excuse me,” I said sweetly, “but I wonder if either of you gentlemen could tell me where I might find the Pokemon cards?”

The guy closest to me looked up, and grinning like the Cheshire Cat said, “We don’t work here.”

Dude. You mock me??? For a moment, perhaps I was fixated on the sparkly red metal piercing his eyebrow, or the colorful tattoos on his forearm, but I quickly glanced at his nametag.

Crap. No nametag. This kid is serious. My hand flew to my mouth, which was hanging open in disbelief.

“Oh, my goodness!! I am sooooooo sorry about that!”

“It’s okay. C’mon. I’ll show you where they are.” And he turned, waving for me to follow him.

“It’s just that, well, you’re both wearing red…in Target! It looked like you were doing inventory. I am really so sorry!”

“It’s really okay.” He proceeded to show me the Pokemon cards, and further explained that I would find additional sets of cards in the trading-card-section, "which is just to the left of checkout #24." Okay, so he doesn’t work there, but trust me, he so totally could! I thanked him, apologized again for the trouble, and set out after check-out #24, where I found exactly what he said I would.

So, moms, please… if your teen seems all into the gaming stuff and speaks in sci-fi languages you don’t understand, go easy on him. He may just be the most surprising resource to clueless Pokemon-seekers like me.

Thursday, August 05, 2010

What If She’s Jesus?

She was walking up the sidewalk at my office when I turned into the parking lot. Older and already beat up from the morning Louisiana heat, she looked at me and I smiled at her. By the time I parked, unplugged my cell phone, gathered my purse, my lunch bag, and my coffee cup, she was crossing the parking lot and headed my direction.

I am ashamed to say that my first thought was, “If I get out of my car right now, that’s going to put us walking in together, and I will feel the need to converse with her, and walk at her pace so as not to leave her in my dust, and I am already late getting to work anyway.” As I climbed out of my car I saw that she was still making an effort at eye contact. There was no way around speaking. I smiled and said, “Good morning.”

As she approached, she responded with, “I hope I’m in the right place.”

I was at that moment resigned to the fact that we were going to share a conversation. I asked what she was looking for. She replied that she was looking for help with her bills. True, after Hurricane Katrina we had an office in our building for the St. Vincent de Paul Society to help evacuees from New Orleans who had come to Shreveport. I explained to her that the SVdP office was no longer at our facility, but that if she would come into our office, we could get a phone number for her.

As I turned to head toward the building with her, she spoke to me, but I do not recall what she said. On the other hand, I will never forget how she looked. I seriously believed this woman might pass out in our parking lot right then and there. Though my arms were full of all my unnecessary gear, I managed to throw an arm around her as I asked if she was okay, and then, surprising myself with the next question: “Have you eaten anything?” She managed to say that she hadn’t, and as I steadied her gently, I prayed that she would not fall out on the asphalt. I knew I would never be able to assist her back up. We walked slowly, and I explained that we were going to walk in through these doors, and I was going to show her a chair and then get her something to eat and drink. I could only promise this because I knew I had packed fruit for my breakfast, and water is always on hand.

When we got in through the doors, I dropped all my gear on the receptionist’s desk and directed the lady to a soft armchair. Explaining the lady’s situation to our receptionist, Linda, I dug through my lunch bag and pulled out a banana. A beautifully sweet, organic banana that I had eagerly anticipated consuming for breakfast. I asked the lady if she was okay with a banana since it had more nutritional value than anything else in my bag, and she said yes. Then I ran into the kitchen for some water.

While I was digging for ice to fill a glass, one of our deacons walked in and asked, as if we were already in mid-conversation, “Is that for her?” I said it was, and he offered to grab a bottle of water. Assuming that might be better, I agreed but continued with the ice. By the time I returned to her, she was surrounded by the deacon and one of our sisters, who were both offering help in ways I could not. Sister took the lady to her office, leaving instruction with Linda to call our local SVdP president and have her patched through directly to Sister.

With no more assisting to do, I cleared Linda’s desk of my belongings and headed to my office, praying this lady would find what she needs, and knowing my part in that process was thankfully over. The deacon followed me into the hall and asked if I had given the lady my snack. I said, “Actually, that was my breakfast.” I was surprised at myself, for I believe this is the first time that I ever took something away from myself to give to another person. I always imagine doing it, but I have never actually put it into action. The feeling was surreal. I realized that for those past five minutes I did not feel like myself, couldn’t remember actual words we exchanged. I just knew I had been willing to hold her upright and share my food. That is quite unlike me, I’m sad to say. I have never been good at reaching out. In the middle of pondering the experience, the deacon walked back in to my office, laid a banana and a peach on my desk and said, “You can’t out-give God. Thanks for helping that lady.”

I sat staring at the fruit, wanting to cry, but replaying his words: “You can’t out-give God.” God has given me so much. All I ever had to do was share it. I guess God knew that I wanted to help, but never knew how. He knew he would need to walk across a parking lot and look me in the eye to get me to act. I hope I remember this lesson, and I hope God gives me more chances to see him in other people. I pondered his words from the Gospel: “Whatever you do for the least of these…”

I should have given her my granola bar too.

Wednesday, August 04, 2010

MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABELLLLLLL!!!!!!!

This has not been our night. Oh, but it’s been Mabel’s alright. She has had a fine evening! First, I came home and started cooking dinner. I let the dogs out, fed them, and brought them back in out of the sweltering heat.

Five minutes later, Dom and the kids walk in, and it is during their entrance into our home that Dom hurriedly crosses the kitchen and asks, “Did she get it or did you put it up?”

“Get what?”

“The loaf of…” And he stops cold at the entrance to the den with me hot on his heels.

“Mabel!!!!! You ate all the bread?!!!” I peered over his shoulder to spy a hurricane path of ripped pieces of the plastic bread bag littering my den.  Dom began to explain to me that he had forgotten to put the bread back in the breadbox and had left the half-loaf on the countertop when he came home for lunch today. He meant to warn me ahead of time, and I had not noticed it was left out. In fact, it took a while for him to convince me that Mabel didn't make that mess during the lunch hour.  I was too focused on making dinner which included a new bread recipe. Ironic, huh?

Half an hour later we were sitting down to dinner. During dinner, the kids and Dom yelled twice at Mabel who was helping herself to the scraps of roast left on the kitchen countertop.

After dinner, we cleared the table and washed up the dishes. I packaged up the leftovers and tried to decide what to store the leftover Sun Dried Tomato Bread in (awesome recipe from my newest cookbook). I decided I was tired of standing up instead, and since Dom was sitting for a few moments, I joined him. We heard nothing from the Mabelline, and I called her name, but really figured she was crashed on the tile floor, what with having consumed so many carbs and all.

I really wish I would stop assuming that I know what she’s doing.

She finally rounded the corner and laid herself down on the floor in front of Dom. He patted her extended belly and we laughed because we figured she had to be stuffed! Dom asked if there was anything else she could have gotten (food-wise), and I proudly answered that I had put everything safely away.

A few moments later I hoisted my lazy butt up and headed into the kitchen. On the table, dead center, was the tray I had placed the bread on during dinner, all wrapped in a towel so it would stay warm. But the tray was empty. Pretty, but empty. And that’s when I realized that I had not yet packaged and stored that beautiful, delicious Italiany-tomato-bread that I had made FROM SCRATCH. I called out to Dom, “Honey, did you put the rest of the bread up?”

“Uh, no…”

And then I saw the towel that I had wrapped the bread in ON THE FLOOR UNDER THE TABLE!

We honestly don’t know how it is that Mabel is not passed out somewhere. She has consumed about a tablespoon of roast beef and TWO HALF-LOAVES OF BREAD!!!

At least the one I made was low-cal. Damn dog.

Monday, August 02, 2010

The Voice That Takes Me Back

“Mommy! Mommy! I had a great day today at cheer camp and there’s a new girl there and she’s in my stunt group and now she’s my friend and I had a great day and I didn’t even miss you!!”

Did you go there with me? Did your mind instantly flash to Father of the Bride when the little girl is sitting at the table talking about getting married, and then Steve Martin blinks his eyes and refocuses on his adult daughter who is all grown-up and beautiful and squealing with delight?

That’s where I went. Except I didn’t see the little girl at the table. I saw this one:

 
Listening to Victoria talking on the phone evokes images of this 3-year old every time. No matter how her voice matures in person, via telephone she is always cute, cuddly and curly-headed. My little Vic. My Mini-Me. My precious daughter who is growing up way too fast. I sort of revel in the fact that my sweet baby girl  with her infinite wonder and innocence still exists on the other end of the phone. I wonder how long that will last, and I pray that I don’t waste a moment of it.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Marking the Stone and Laying it to Rest

Yesterday we travelled to my Mom and Dad’s shortly after picking up Emma’s pet marker from the monument company. It’s been a month now since Emma was buried in the backyard. I knew Mom and Dad would be ready for the stone to mark her spot in the yard next to Bull and Dayzi. Daddy went out alone to dig the hole for the marker, which stood about ten inches tall. He came back in and said it was time to set the marker. The remaining four of us joined him outside for the ceremonial placement of the stone.


We were all sad to mark Emma’s spot, but the task required dignity, respect and honor, and I was pleased to see my children offering all three for our friend and pet.


I checked in on Bull and Dayzi, brushed some grass away from their markers, and smiled at the happy memories they placed within my childhood. My kids will remember Emma in much the same way.

 

You are greatly missed, sweet Lemon. We do love you so.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Ode to Blanket "Bebbit" Mainiero

When Aaron was born, we had a plethora of wooly-soft baby blankets. Some solid, some plaid, some with frogs and trains on them, and all of them toasty warm. I LOVED his baby blankets. He was never partial to any blanket as an infant. But then he turned a year old, and I vamoosed the baby bottle and the pacifier in one fell swoop. My mother-in-law called me cruel, and others may agree. But I saw it as a way to oust two potential crutches before he was verbose enough to complain about them being gone. So that was my rule with both kids… Celebrate the First Birthday, Toss the Binkie and Bottle, Move On to Toddlerdom.

It was at the Toss the Binkie and Bottle moment that Aaron, without complaining about what was missing, latched onto what was still available... a sweet little woven blanket which happened to be in the exact pattern theme of his nursery – John Lennon’s Imagine Collection. (I recall being about 4 months pregnant, standing in Burlington’s Baby Depot and pulling the butt-string of a blue musical JL elephant. It played a music-box version of Imagine, and as I imagined this unborn baby of mine “cheering all the world,” I started to cry right there in the store. Any question of my pending nursery theme was instantly settled. Now that you’ve been dragged down my Memory Lane, back to Aaron and the blanket…)

Aaron decided that this woven softie was his new security device. In his adorable one-year-old voice, he would call it “Bebbit,” clutch it with those precious tiny-boy hands, and take off. He toted that blanket everywhere! If we ever left Bebbit behind, the ensuing panic was so dramatic that I ended up purchasing two more identical blankets to keep at the grandmas' houses. So, all total we had three completely interchangeable blankets. One was just as good as the other two, and all three were far superior to any other scrap of material ever offered. As Aaron grew and began to start preschool, it was going to be a challenge to leave Blanket behind for a whole school day. Blanket got to travel to school for naptimes, and it would come home with us at the end of the week for washing. (Remember, we still had two others on hand.) You may be curious as to my capitalization of the word Blanket. Well, one day when he was 4, Aaron was naming all members of the family – "Aaron Mainiero, Mommy Mainiero, Daddy Mainiero, Victoria Mainiero" – and then announced there was a fifth member. I looked at him quizzically, and he cheerfully exclaimed, “Blanket Mainiero!!”


As with all childhood treasures, the years were not particularly kind to Blanket Mainiero. Faded, stringy, and suffering several rips, one of the three Blankets ended up with the nickname of Holy Moley, and was relegated to staying at Grandmama’s house for emergency purposes only. By the time Aaron was in Kindergarten, Blanket was an after-school buddy. By the time two more years had passed, Blanket was a night-time and weekend morning buddy. Blanket still hangs out with Aaron at night, but today something happened that made me choke back tears. Blanket has been riding around this summer in a duffle-bag of sorts, along with all the books and video games that the kids think they need at Grandmama’s house. Today, as we prepared to go visit my parents, Aaron was sifting through the bag. I saw him toss Blanket onto the kitchen table and stuff something into his pocket as he headed to the door. For some reason, this struck me. Out of sheer habitual compassion for Blanket, I asked, “Aaron, do you have everything you need?”

“Yes ma’am. I got my iPod and my wallet. I’m good.” And with that he slipped out the door.

My watery eyes rested on the crumpled pile of fabric on our table as through my mind floated all the times we rushed back in from the garage to grab Blanket, or worse yet, backtracked five city blocks because we were that far away from home when he realized Blanket had been left behind. We’ve travelled everywhere with Blanket for nearly a solid decade. I thought of all the times my baby boy tucked that soft fabric up under his arm, letting the tail of it drag the floor behind him. And I thought of how fast my precious son is growing up, and how proud I am for all the things that he knows and understands and feels. It took me a moment to regain my composure. I sucked it up and joined the kids in the car. But be assured, I cannot type this without crying. Such are the moments that take my breath away.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

My Creed

I am in the process of making my Life List / Bucket List, which is taking longer than it should because I over-analyze things, and I’m left wondering if my list is too dumb. But, as important as what I want to do in this life is what I truly believe while I am here. There are many things that I feel at my core, most of which I share repeatedly with my children in an effort to make them better members of society. This creed, if you will, is not some pie-in-the-sky daydream of a tree-huggin’ conservative, as contradictory as that may sound. This is my belief system, this is what makes me who I am, and this is what I try to live every day. Some days I fail miserably. Other days I truly get it, I live it, and there is order in my universe.

I believe that happiness is a choice. It doesn’t just happen to you. It doesn’t come from things or people or money. It is a choice of attitude. You can be the richest person in the world, buying all the stuff your heart desires, and still be pretty darn miserable if you choose to be. Happiness is a choice, and it is worth choosing every day.

I believe that peace on earth begins at home. We parents are responsible for shaping tomorrow’s adults, and we will shape them solely by our example. They will not listen so much to what we say, but they will emulate how we live. I believe it is my job, my purpose in the home, to teach my children by example to resolve conflict peacefully, to respect the inherent value of other people, and to exercise self-control for the greater good.

I believe that I should care what others think of me. Not from an I-have-to-please-everyone perspective, but rather as a means of self-evaluation. Petty opinions of me should not change who I am. But there are three things that people who meet and know me should never have to question: 1) my Christianity; 2) my integrity; and 3) my love for my husband. If anyone ever finds reason to think I am not honoring those three most important facets of my life by my words and my actions, then I need to seriously re-evaluate how I’m living.

I believe that the heart, mind and soul work together to create individual and universal harmony. If there is conflict within one of those three, there will be stress and outward signs of demise in the other two. I believe that nature has provided us everything we need to be whole; we just have to listen.

I believe that everyone’s purpose on this earth, while varied in the way in which we are supposed to learn it and carry it out, is to learn to love each other. Yeah, there are some pretty tough people to love out there. Some people I’d probably rather not deal with, based on their actions or attitudes. But when was the last time I evaluated myself with a critical eye and came out smelling like a rose? I do believe in God, I do believe he loves me, and I do believe I can never, ever earn or deserve that love. But I also believe he is my example to follow, and so I believe that I must love others.

I believe that having a job that you enjoy is more important than having a job that pays more money. If you’re fulfilled by your job, it doesn’t feel like work. And I believe that service is more important than salary.

I believe that the only thing that makes us any different from each other is our opinions. Not our skin, not our flag, not our education, not our political affiliation, not our neighborhood, nor our religion. All these things culminate in our lives for the sole purpose of shaping our opinions – how we think and feel about our world and others in it. It is those opinions that separate us from each other. There is no reason for one person to feel greater than or less than any other person on this earth, when the only real difference between them is merely a thought.

I believe that there is more to life than what we see, that love is stronger than death, and that peace is never wrong.

You Shall Not Harm Harry Potter!

Remember Dobby’s warning to Malfoy in The Chamber of Secrets right after he’d been given the sock? We said this very same thing to Mabel yesterday, in much the same voice.

As usual, I was on the computer and Mason was asleep on the floor behind my chair. Mabel was wandering around downstairs. She has recently discovered the bunnies in Vic’s room, and loves to bark at them, so we gate the stairs to keep her away from them and give them some peace. Anyhoo, I knew Mabel was safe downstairs, and figured she was probably asleep in the garden room, where I often find her lately when I assume she is into mischief. So this time, I didn’t bother to investigate.

Big mistake. Huge!

Apparently, Mabel felt like doing a little reading, because we found pieces of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone littering three rooms. Victoria was aggravated because she was the one currently reading the book (and likely the one who had left it in Mabel’s reach.)

So now Mabel has earned herself the nickname of Malfoy, with all her mischievous intentions. I can’t exactly call her Voldemort, because she is not purely evil. She’s Malfoy…meddling around and being a real PITA to Harry, and sometimes to us.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Ya Know, Some Days Ya Just Gotta Laugh

Elaine and I have a saying: We can't make this stuff up! Case in point: my home voice-mail message today, from a fellow mom whom I have never met. She is organizing a back-to-school party for one of my children’s classes. She sounded sweet when she introduced herself to my answering machine, stated her purpose for calling, and then offered that I could call her back to let her know if I wanted to bring brownies or coke or something. Nevermind that she didn’t state when the party will be. But the really fun part was at the end, when she thought she had hung up the phone and continued talking, but in a much less sweet, more sarcastic voice, “…or let me know if you’re just gonna friggin’ show up!”

Doesn’t that just make me wanna bake all night and go party down with that crew!!!! Hmmm. I think we’re busy that day.

My Girls

Another reason to love this life.  My girls, chllin' on the sofa. 
Vic and Mabel, July 18, 2010

Friday, July 16, 2010

Happy Birthday, Margie!

Today is Margie’s birthday, another of my beloved co-workers, and it is my privilege to honor her with a birthday meme. This is a significant birthday, by the way, and I hope she doesn’t kill me for going “live” with the news: Margie is 50 today!!!!!! We have appropriately draped her office in black. I know she will get a kick out of it, because she’s fun like that. So, without further adieu, here are the Top Ten reasons I think Margie is so darned awesome (drum roll, please…)

1. Because she can be counted on to wear festive springy-antennae headbands for every holiday.

2. Her rum cake. Need I say more???

3. Because she is known to put crazy signs like this on her office door:


4. Because she is one of my Mom Role Models.

5. Because when I need to vent, she’s there to listen. And then she shows me the humorous side of the situation.

6. Because she knows what I weigh…and judges not.

7. Because she is always willing to convert any recipe we bring her into a healthier concoction.

8. Because we have stood shoulder to shoulder in battle. Granted, the battle front was the postage machine, but we were both exhausted and covered in red ink, so it resembled the worst of any office battle we’d ever seen.

9. Because when I reply to her emails, I’m usually crass and quippy, and it makes her laugh out loud instantly. I love that laugh!

10. Because she is beautiful inside and out, a captivating spirit and a treasured friend.

Happy Birthday, Margie. You rock!

Monday, July 12, 2010

Happy Birthday to Mickey!

Today is my friend and co-worker Mickey’s birthday. We are planning to celebrate in the next few minutes, after which I am convinced we will all be in a sugar-induced coma, and our diets will be shot for the day. So, I need to get this posted now. In the spirit of birthday blogs, I offer the following TOP TEN reasons I love Mickey.

1. She counsels me through my maternal meltdowns.

2. She cleverly decorates our Halloween pumpkin candy-holder to fit all holidays. My favorite was the purple cloth drape covering the pumpkin (and its supply of candy) during Lent.

3. Age is just a number! Mickey is the forever kind of young we all hope to be.

4. She makes a killer muffaletta pasta.

5. She has experienced every school-age homework crisis one can imagine, and she assures me they are all temporary.

6. She has some crazy hysterical stories of things she has done. My favorite of these involves her husband’s boat. ;)

7. She likes details. I like details. We work well together. 

8. She has taught religious education, and is always willing to share great ideas with me for my class.

9. She loves Van Halen. And she informed me of the difference between “Van Halen with David Lee Roth…and that other crap.”

10. She is a survivor. I would wear pink any day for her.

Have a wonderful birthday, Mickey!!!

Tuesday, July 06, 2010

Thimblefuls of Happiness

You know, sometimes it’s the smallest things that bring joy to an otherwise mundane day. I’m amazed at how thrilled I can get over things other people would hardly notice, so much so that I find myself thinking, Wow…I need a life! I frequently smile over seemingly insignificant things, so it makes me wonder if this means I have a rather simple view of life, or if it just means I’m an eternal optimist, perpetually seeking the positive no matter how trivial the positive may appear. I prefer to think that the latter reason is the most accurate. You, however, may read this post and come away thinking that I really just need more to do.

The things that bring unparalleled joy to my day, in no particular order:

• Victoria’s laugh

• Aaron’s no-other-reason-than-I-wanted-to-hug-you hugs

• Adding up the daily deposit and getting the same number twice

• Bud Light’s Real Men of Genius commercials

• Phone calls from Dom during work

• Opening a shipment of new office supplies (I love pens!)

• Mason’s tail wagging – for whatever reason he finds to wag it

• Snuggling a bunny rabbit

• Installing a new computer program

• Testing my fish tank water and finding that everything is in balance

• Birds on my bird feeder – especially cardinals

• Seeing a cardinal in my yard while I’m on the phone with Mom

• Finding my shoes after two days of looking for them

• Holding Dom’s hand immediately after the Our Father during Mass, when everyone else has let go

• Fresh iced tea in the staff lounge

• Getting a new app on my phone

• Watching Mabel when she’s tired

• Sitting on the swing in the backyard

• Getting a new issue of Southern Living in the mail

• Looking through a new recipe book

• Hearing about Dom’s day

• Being at- or under-budget at the grocery store

• Blooms on my gladiolas

• Heck, in this heat, blooms on anything in my flowerbed!

• Emails that tell me the pollen count is dropping

• Convincing myself to spend the money on a dress and then finding out at the register that it’s on sale

• The moment our receptionist notifies us that the city has turned our office water back on

• A full tank of gas

• Buying materials for a home improvement project

• Emptying my file of co-workers’ phone expense reimbursements (usually in pennies)

• Starbucks Fridays

• Knowing Margie just read an email from me because I can hear her laughing all the way down the hall

• Postal holidays (paid for dearly on the next business day, but for a brief moment, it’s all worth it!)

• Finding Italian Shoemakers sandals on sale

• Spray painting anything

• Sparkly lip gloss

• Cooking dinner when I’ve actually had time to prepare and do it right with fresh ingredients

• Folding laundry that Dom has laid out neatly so that my time investment in the chore is cut by two-thirds

See? Not a lot of wow. Just a lot to be grateful for.

Monday, June 28, 2010

The Mabel List

Typically, the Mabel List would include the millions of random things that she has eaten.  Or the hundred items she has stolen from my countertop.  Or the dozens of critters she wants to eat.  Or the 3 places she loves to bite Mason.  But tonight, the Mabel List contains an item I never thought I would see on her list...

Mabel might actually be afraid of something.

Insane, right?

I've been at the computer for a little while tonight, and I noticed Mabel would come into the office and then leave without really fooling with me.  Not really her style, but I've been busy.  Then Dom came in and said she was acting strangely. We think she might be afraid of the thunder.  She's pacing and looking bothered.  Mabel...afraid.  Go figure.  Mason could care less.  He just wants to know when we're going to bed.  But now the rain is coming down and the thunder and lightning are getting closer and closer, and I think Mabel is about to wig out. 

We'd better head upstairs and get her comfy laying across Dom's feet so she feels like she has control of at least something in this crazy, rainy world.  She can be fearless again tomorrow. 

Sunday, June 20, 2010

How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Songs

My friend Jessica shares a fine tradition on her blog by celebrating birthdays with tributes to her friends. My list-making left-brained self LOVES this idea! Dom and I celebrated our anniversary on June 1, and since I have spent my time reeling from what I’ve learned about product ingredients, I have not taken the time to pay special tribute to our 14th Anniversary. I’ll have to save most of my Why-I-Love-Dom items for his birthday tribute in October, so I have put a little twist on the traditional meme. For our anniversary, and before the month runs out, here is my list of 14 songs that explain how I feel about the man I love more than life.

1. To Each His Own (Al Martino) – the song of our first dance as Mr. & Mrs.
"Two lips must insist on two more to be kissed, or they’ll never know what love can do. To each  his own, I’ve found my own. My one and only you...”

2. Johnny and June (Heidi Newfield)
“I wanna love like Johnny and June, rings of fire burning with you. I wanna walk the line, walk the line til the end of time. I wanna love, love you that much, cash it all in, give it all up…”

3. April Showers (Sugarland)
“If I had one wish, I'd wish for two. One for me, baby and one for you. And it would find you right where you are, with time on your hands and hope in your heart. We both understand we were written in the stars…”

4. November Rain (Guns and Roses)
“And when you take the time to lay it on the line I can rest my head just knowing that you are mine, all mine…”

5. I Love You Til the End (The Pogues)
“I just want to be there when the morning light explodes on your face, it radiates, I can't escape. I love you 'till the end…”

6. Cowboy Hat in Dallas (Charlie Daniels Band)
“And there ain’t a cowboy hat in Dallas if I ain’t in love with you!”

7. If You Go (Vedera)
“If you go, well I’m going with you – if you know, if you know me at all.”

8. Seat Next To You (Bon Jovi)
“Baby, say that you’ll take me wherever you’re going to. Baby, I want you to save me a seat next to you…”

9. I Need You (Tim McGraw and Faith Hill)
“’Cause I need you like a lighthouse on a coast, like the Father and the Son need the Holy Ghost…”

10. Passenger Seat (SheDaisy)
“I look to my left, see his suntanned hands, his muddy-river hair and his thousand-acre plans. I’m all shook up like a quarter in a can. Ain’t life sweet in the passenger seat?”

11. Huckleberry (Toby Keith)
“Baby I'll be your Huckleberry, you don't have to double dare me. If the world gets wild and scary count on me to be right there…”

12. You Took the Words Right Out of my Mouth (Meatloaf)
“And then you took the words right out of my mouth. Oh, it must have been while you were kissing me…”

13. They All Laughed (Ella Fitzgerald)
“They all said we never could be happy. They laughed at us and how! But ho, ho, ho! Who's got the last laugh now?...”

14. The Very Thought of You (Billie Holiday)
“I see your face in every flower, your eyes in the stars above.  It's just the thought of you, the very thought of you my love…”

15. Day Too Soon (Sia)
“Yeah, I've been waiting all my life. You're not a day, you're not a day too soon…”

Happy Anniversary, Love.  :)  You're my lobster!

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Saying Goodbye to The Swimmin’ Lemon




Emma June is my mom’s dog.  Boo Two’s sister.  Little Blue Eyes.  Emmit.  Bullet Nose.  The Swimmin’ Lemon. 

Emma was born in 1998.  Shortly after my childhood dogs, Bull (Big Boo) and Dayzi, had gone to their eternal rest my dad said he wanted another Boo.  He said for mom to go find puppies (free ones, of course) and not come home with one unless it looked just like Big Boo.  Oh, and if she found such a character, she could pick out a second pup too. 
 
We found the Boo-meister in a patchy countrified litter that was supposed to be part Lab, though we now believe his and Emma’s ancestry is quite varied.  Boo sat huddled next to the fence, and aside from his shy demeanor appeared to be the spitting image of Bull.  Sold! Er, taken, I mean.  And then there was also this spunky blonde female pup with bright blue eyes.  A striking beauty.  Mom was in love!  We scooped them both up, and headed back to mom’s. 

Mom accused me of immediately spoiling her Emma.  From the moment I met her, all I had to do was sit on the floor and she was instantly in my lap.  Mom would roll her eyes and say, “You do know she’s MY dog, don’t you?”  Those first days in July 1998 with Boo and Emma were sunny and fun and sloppy wet!  Daddy bought a wading pool and filled it with water for the pups to play in.  Emma was just this little blonde bouncing ball of spirit, splashing in and out of the water, sailing through the air before whipping around to splash again in the other direction.  This earned her the title of The Swimmin’ Lemon.  (Also at this same time, I dreamed of owning a bistro and calling it by the same name.  If I see such an establishment pop up, I want credit.  LOL!)



From then on, all I had to do was say, “Where’s the Lemon?” and she would come running!  She had other nicknames to which I eluded in the first paragraph.  Daddy called her Emmit.  Mom called her Emma June from the beginning, though sometimes the name was expanded to Emma June Nation.  Emma had a way of getting our attention, namely by slapping the crap out of us with her paw if she thought we weren’t focusing enough on her.  Equally frustrating was that she would lean in close, stare sweetly but intently into one’s eyes, and then without warning slam her nose into one’s face.  Bullet Nose.   

Emma wasn’t too crazy about the kids when they came along.  She preferred that they stay on their side of the room and she would stay on hers, thank you very much.  Mom taught the kids that if Emma growled or left their presence, they were to back off.  Emma was protective of little more than herself, while Boo surprised us by constantly being interested in the kids’ business. 

While she kept her interests separate from what was usually going on, she was unmistakably an important part of the family, with all rights and responsibilities thereto.  Apparently, Emma enjoyed napping in the comfort of the patio chairs, which Daddy usually insisted stay pushed up to the patio table.  But not long ago, I overheard Mom ask Daddy if he had pulled the chair away from the table.  He responded, "Yeah, for Emma. She likes that."  

Doc diagnosed Emma with cancer in her mouth earlier this year.  She underwent surgery to remove the tumor, after which Emma returned to her playful, happy self.  But we were prepared for the bounce-back to be short lived.  As the school year ended, Emma’s health deteriorated rapidly.  We could tell that the tumor had returned, and Emma lost the desire to eat.  Mom called me today and told me through tears that Doc will make a house-call this afternoon, and Emma’s pain will be over. 

I am sad.  I will miss the Lemon.  She is a good dog, a wonderful pet, and a loyal friend.  I wonder how Boo will react to being without her for the first time in his life.  Boo gets frustrated with Emma lately, although Mom said Emma got stuck in a bush outside this week, and Boo wedged himself in to direct her out of it.  He knows the end is near.  We all know.  I believe that Emma will join Bull and Dayzi under the Rainbow Bridge, and we will all enjoy her company again one day. 



I wonder if Christ had a sweet little dog,
All fuzzy and wooly, like mine.
With two silky ears and a nose brown and wet
And two eyes, bright and tender, that shine.


I'm afraid that He hadn't, because I have read
How He prayed in the garden alone
When all of His friends and disciples had fled,
Even Peter, the one called a stone.


But, oh, I am sure, that sweet little dog,
With a heart so tender and warm,
Would never have left Him to suffer alone,
But, creeping up under His arm,


Would have licked the dear fingers in agony clasped
And counting all favor as lost,
When they took Him away, would have trotted behind,
And followed Him right to the cross.

~Anonymous~

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

A New Blog is Born

The previous post really gave me some release on what has been bothering me for the past two weeks. I appreciate the responses I got from everyone! In the midst of determining what to do with my frustration, I have spawned a new blog, One Purpose Driven Mom. I wanted to snag the domain purposedrivenmom.com, but alas, someone beat me to it. But it’s just a page of links to baby stuff, and doesn’t look entirely maintained, so I don’t feel bad about tweaking the name to work for me. My apologies for any offense to other so-named purpose driven moms on the web. ;)

The purpose of my purpose-driven purposeness is to instill a better, more positive, healthier habit each day for the next year. 365 changes in 365 days. Yes, it’s quite an undertaking, but I feel it will be worthwhile.

Feel free to check the progress along the way or join me in the quest for better habits! :)

Monday, June 14, 2010

In Search of Truth (The fight is on with the FDA!)

I haven’t blogged in a while, but I haven’t been far away. In fact, the last two weeks have found me inundated in internet research on - of all things - additives, preservatives and artificial colors.

It all started the second day of our staycation, when we met with the school counselor to discuss Victoria’s standardized test scores (which were fine, BTW) and learned that they (the counselor and teachers) feel that Vic displays ADHD tendencies.

You can imagine my state of mind once that was brought to my attention!

I suppressed my truest thoughts and attitudes for the limited duration of the meeting, not wanting to be in denial if a problem truly existed, but utterly convinced that nothing good had come of this entire year in Second Grade, and now we had wrapped it all up nicely and tied it with a big black bow. Let me assure you, suppressing my words and thoughts did me no good in the end. I was in my doctor’s office within the week convinced I was relapsing with shingles. I should have just let it all out in the counselor’s office.

Those who know me best will vouch for the fact that I am pretty much anti-medication. Unless I understand that a condition will WORSEN without meds, I can summon the strength to do without them. So I was intrigued by the school counselor’s mention of changes in diet that can sometimes subdue these ADHD symptoms.

I must say at this point, denial or not, that I am not in the least little bit convinced that my child has ADHD. I have researched it to the point of going blind! However, I have known her to demonstrate some behaviors that stress teachers out if they don’t have a handle on who the adult is in the classroom, and I have since learned that these behaviors are indeed attributable in many cases to our foods.

My mom says I went overboard. If that’s true, then I’m still in the water. Instantly upon my research quest, I stumbled upon the dangers of preservatives and certified artificial colors. Did you know that the “certified artificial colors” in our foods (like Yellow 6, Blue 1, Red 40 and so on) can trigger hyperactivity much more so than sugar? And look at the reputation we’ve given poor defenseless sugar over the years. In fact, Victoria even informed me several times this year, “Mommy, I shouldn’t eat that dessert because sugar makes me hyper!” to which I would casually respond, “That’s a load of bull,” and serve her the cake. All joking aside, any hyperactivity she displayed was more likely the result of the certified artificial colors in snack foods. The neon Goldfish crackers, the strawberry-flavored milk, the fruit roll-ups. They are everywhere! And not only will they increase the hyperactivity, but they are made from petroleum, and often contain amounts of lead, mercury and arsenic that can alter our DNA. Of course, you say, consumption would have to be pretty significant, right? When you consider that these colors are in about 90% of kid-friendly snack foods, just based on what was in my pantry, then I’d have to say the consumption factor is more than met. If you do the research, these “colors” make High Fructose Corn Syrup look like an angel. As it turns out, HFCS is just hyped-up sugar, and will just make us fat faster. Duhhh.

Did you further know that Australia, Canada and the UK insist on higher quality ingredients in their foods? McDonald’s strawberry sundae syrup, for instance, gets its color from Red 40 in the United States. In the UK, McD’s makes the syrup with real strawberries – NO Red 40 – all because the country insists on it. I feel incredibly duped as an American, and I attribute this disappointment to the FDA. Makes me want even more to join Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution!!!

It took under an hour to rid my pantry of every food with suspect ingredients. We can now, for the first time in probably 8 years, see 75% of the back wall of our pantry – that’s how much food I evicted. The top shelf is practically empty. And I am in serious need of a trip to the grocery store.

Which is what leads me to my “highest level of pissed-ivity” against the FDA. I noticed in my reading that the FDA’s stance is always that “there are no studies which concretely confirm” all the harm that these ingredients can cause us. Nothing to substantiate, eh? I suppose it wouldn’t do any good to substantiate the claims against these products when it would take a fortune to turn our consumerism around, to make the foods with higher quality (and more costly) ingredients, or to – at the very least - RESEARCH the long-term effects of this crap. So basically, if you never test it, then you can’t be held accountable for the damage it has caused? Is that not a noticeable trend in our society? Pardon me, but I’m of the mindset that if it MIGHT hurt me, then it probably WILL, so why go there?!! It’s the same reason I don’t consume anything with saccharin. “Causes cancer in laboratory animals.” And you want to put it in my food?!!!

But then again, people still smoke despite the warning on the package. I get it. I understand the “it’s too big for me to fight by myself” attitude. I have felt that way too at times during the past two weeks. It feels monstrously overwhelming. Until I look at my kids – these little humans that are my responsibility for the next decade. I can’t feed them that stuff anymore. Not knowing what I know now. I have not gotten much support from other moms in my crusade against these ingredients. I’ve heard everything from, “Well, something’s going to kill us, we might as well eat and be happy,” to “Maybe I’m a bad mom, but I just don’t care what’s in the food.” O…...M……G…… Does it have to be only at the suggestion of a medical malfunction that we will admit the benefit of determined change? Isn’t it then too late??

And then…

Getting ready to go to the grocery store, I decided to do further research last night on the naughty-list preservatives, since my research had been so focused on the food colorings. But lo and behold, when I started my search on BHT I was directed to preservatives in cosmetics. WHAAAAA????????!!!!!! Turns out, all the crap I’m trying to avoid in our food is in my makeup, my shampoo, body lotions, sunscreens, and on and on and on… Not only are there preservatives to worry about, but parabens, known carcinogens and chemicals known to cause reproductive problems and hormonal imbalances lurk in literally every kind of product we use. I wash my hair every day with a shampoo containing carcinogenic ingredients. I’ve used this shampoo for five years. My daily facial regimen is even under attack, as my beloved Mary Kay products contain these awful ingredients.

I have to wonder…. Since you can’t go two degrees of separation without finding someone affected by cancer, since the miscarriage rate is so high, since so many of our friends have had fertility issues, since kids are popping up everywhere with ADD and ADHD...can you do any of this research and not see a connection? We comment all the time that our ancestors didn’t have all the ailments we have today. Are our products and our dependency on them killing us, killing our dreams??

There is hope. And help. I found three beneficial information sites and I am grateful they exist: The Center for Science in the Public Interest, Paraben-Free Princess, and Skin Deep, the Cosmetics Safety Database.

No, I can’t possibly undertake the job of stripping my entire home of these harmful chemical ingredients…not all at once. Food is my first step. After that I can focus on one beauty product at a time, finding a suitable replacement until I have eliminated to the best of my ability the ingredients that I deem unsafe for my family and our future. And maybe I’ll have the beauty products under control by the time Vic starts wearing makeup.

If you have travelled this road already, let me know.  If you have information that disputes the ideas I have shared here, let me know that too.  I am on a quest for truth...

...for all of us.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

It’s Tuesday….Er, Make That Wednesday...

This week has flown! We have had something going on every day or night since Saturday, and it is starting to wear me down. I think today may be my breaking point. And here’s why.

Tomorrow is the last day of school. Yay, right? Except today is Honors Assembly for Aaron and Splash Day for Victoria. I thought I was going to miss half of my work day, which I would do for my kids, but as it turns out, nothing went as I planned.

First, I was absolutely convinced that the Honors Assembly would begin at 9:00 a.m. today. I found out at 8:15 that it was to start at 8:30. Having forgotten my camera at home and backtracking to fetch it, I managed to swing into the school parking lot at 8:35. I walked into the auditorium right as Aaron was being called to the stage for his AB Honor Roll award. No time to get the camera out, and I missed the opportunity to revel in his success! Feeling like a complete failure in the presence of the stay-at-home moms who create daily magic on the school campus and have musical and academic prodigies for children, I decided to stay through Victoria’s honors assembly, even though I knew she wouldn’t be called for any awards. She was pleased that I was there, and that Mimi and Papa were on hand to take pictures with her. So that made me happy. But then I get a note from the counselor that we need to meet to discuss her standardized test scores next week…during my vacation…on the morning of my anniversary…at 8:00 a.m.! Ick.

Victoria has had a rough year, and it has been equally hard on me and Dom as we tried to help her navigate the unnecessarily rough terrain of Second Grade. So when the school secretary called me at 11:00 to say Victoria needed her towel for Splash Day at 12:00, I was just beside myself. My dear friend Mickey offered to run home and grab a towel to save me the drive all the way to my own house, since the school is just 6 minutes from my office. Dear, sweet Mickey! So I am off to the school, for the third time today. And I truly feel that this is just a rough day, and that we love our school and our teachers very much, because they care enough to meet with us on their vacation too to make sure we are prepared for the next first day of school.

Happy Summer.