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.

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. 

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!

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~

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! :)

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.

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.

The Lost Art of Chivalry

I am a Do-It-Yourself-er. I rarely decide to pay someone to do something for me if I fully understand the hows and whys of doing it myself. Plumbing and electrical work I will typically leave to the professionals, but other random home improvements like paint, garden design, and room remodeling I can usually do on my own. I take great pride in knowing my hands provided many of our home improvements.

This weekend our project is to finish a project, and the baseboards won out. So, off to Home Depot I went, armed with my list of supplies and room measurements. By the time I had filled my buggy with all the little supplies and headed to the moulding aisle, I had already been in Home Depot for a considerable time period. I saved the cutting of the moulding for last, incase my phone died and my shopping list disappeared at a critical moment.

So there I am at the moulding, cutting my quarter-round rather easily. Then I moved on to the 16-foot long, 6-inch tall baseboards. I needed to cut about 8 sections of baseboard so that it would travel in the truck securely. After cutting one baseboard with the free hand-held saw provided, I realized I was sweating. After the second baseboard, I was dripping wet. At this point, there were three men on the same aisle with me. One of them needed assistance from an employee, and when the employee arrived, he assumed I was the customer in need. To a degree, I was. But I informed him it was the older gentleman in the hat who called for him. When the assisting was done for the older gentleman, the employee came to me and said, “You’ll only get one bicep really strong unless you work the saw in the other hand!” I laughed and commented on my personal policy not to sweat in public. The older gentleman said, “I’ve been watching her. I was thinking about hiring her.”

Oh, so you’d think about hiring me, but not about HELPING me???????

I don’t usually require that men assist me or treat me like the little lady who can’t or shouldn’t handle manual labor. But there comes a point when help is not degrading. If it is offered as a sign of, “Here…that’s easier for me to do, and I can see you’re struggling…” then it’s totally acceptable! As it turns out, of the four men who watched me saw myself into a cardiac frenzy, the only one who was willing to help me was the one who was being paid to do so. He sawed the last two pieces I needed, and then my aching arms and I steered my buggy of lumber to the check out while I regained a normal breathing pattern.

Chivalry needs a resurrection, for sure.

I Get Knocked Down, But I Get Up Again…

This weekend Victoria experienced the Sacrament of First Communion while I experienced a complete meltdown. I have learned much this year, not the least of which is that I cannot be teacher and parent at the same time for the same purpose. I opted this year to help in teaching the First Communion class mostly because Victoria experienced separation anxiety all last year, and well, it just seemed like it’d be easier on everyone if I was present in her class. And they needed teachers, so the planets seemed to align and beckon my participation. With the benefit of hindsight, I suppose any teacher would tell me that teaching my own child’s class was not a good idea. But there’s not much you can do with a stubborn mama like me, apart from letting her learn from her own mistakes, so everyone watched me dive right in.

As the year drew to a close, and the sacrament drew nearer to experience, I lapsed into a former habit and began to convince myself that I could do it all in a single 24 hour period…coordinate a last-minute practice and retreat; provide direction to parents; print the programs; make the reception cake; photograph the children; photograph my own child and family members; gather, entertain and feed my own extended family; and ultimately bask blissfully in the moment of my child (and 29 others I have come to love) receiving this holy Sacrament.

Boy did I overestimate myself!  Um, again.

As everything culminated on Sunday morning, I was overwhelmed beyond belief. Stranded across the sanctuary from my family and my camera, and seated behind the girls of our class, I peered over and around poufy white dresses and veils to find my daughter in the line for Communion – and realized she had just received it and was walking back to her seat. I had missed it. I suddenly felt my eyes stinging and prayed I wouldn’t go all Steel Magnolias on anyone. I made it all the way home without bursting into tears, briefly entertained family at home, and then crashed for a three hour nap.

While I felt gutted by the experience Sunday morning, I am reminded that God sees more of the experience than we do while we are in it. Now that a couple of days have passed, I am able to reflect on the joy of the whole year – getting to know all the kids, and sharing something so special with them. And today, I got an email from the photographer who was hired to take all our photos. She took amazing pictures of Victoria, and as I clicked through the pictures of all the kids, I realized she also took photos of each child receiving Communion. It made me so happy to see that picture of Vic. I emailed the photographer and thanked her for getting that moment back for me. Now, when I look at the pictures of those beautiful children, I am reminded of their sweet, innocent spirits and the love their Creator has for each of them…

…which is the reason we were there in the first place.

Lost In Transit

In 1999 Dom and I moved from the apartment we had inhabited for three years into our first house, where we still reside. And to this day, I can name the three items that never made it from the apartment to the house. For whatever reason, I cannot seem to let it go. I had packed and labeled everything so neatly, even pre-designating each box to be delivered to a certain room in the house. So here’s the list. Since November 30, 1999, I have not seen:

My favorite door mat. A rugged mat for outdoor use, it had a silhouetted Labrador sitting on the edge of a marsh, surrounded by cattails. It reminded me of Bull, the original “Best Dog Ever.” My best guess is that it caught some wind riding down Bert Kouns and left to have its own adventure. I originally bought it at WalMart, but of course I can’t find a duplicate.

A 6” Waterford crystal clock, grandfather style, given to me by my college employer. I always displayed the clock next to the Waterford water pitcher he gave us as a wedding gift. The pitcher made it to the house. The clock has not been seen. I can’t imagine where it ended up. But wherever it is, it is packaged neatly in its original blue velvet padded box with magnetic lid.

My rosary. Now, I’m not a big rosary-praying person, but I like tote-able trinkets, and I really liked the beads on this one. It had clear beads that were cut at angles, but still felt smooth. And it had a little weight to it, so it felt good in my hands. I used to keep it under my pillow just so that when I slid my hand under there to get comfy and go to sleep I would feel it and remember to say a little prayer as I drifted off. I miss those beads. Haven’t found a good replacement yet.

So that’s it. Ten years of wondering what happened to some of my favorite things. If we lost more than these three items, they were things I didn’t care too much for, and haven’t noticed their absence. But these three things I miss regularly.

I wonder if St. Anthony imposes a statute of limitations on lost items…

Ahh-CHOO and Uh-Oh!

I’ve been sniffling and sputtering for about a week now, longer if you count the two weeks that my eyes itched and burned. So I just chalked it all up to seasonal allergies. After all, I had noticed Grass Pollen finally made its appearance on the pollen charts and I typically battle with oak, grass and ragweed at their respective times of year. I was trying to be a sweet wife when I mowed the yard last Monday while Dom was out of town. Despite driving right through a dustbowl and knowing immediately that I would pay dearly for it, I came in from the chore and took all necessary precautions to rid myself of any freeloading pollen spores. Shower, hair washing, and nasal wash. Ha! Take that, seasonal allergies!!

So why was I so stuffy on Tuesday? By lunchtime Wednesday I felt genuinely crummy, and so began to take stock of what was new in my routine. Well, I mowed. And oops…I had some honey on a sandwich. And, well, I have been visiting the pet store since Sunday. But I wouldn’t be going back to the pet store regularly since we brought home the bunny, Marsha Mallow.

I would not face it.

Nope, don’t even utter it!

I can NOT be allergic to the bunny. Do you hear me? C-A-N-N-O-T!!!!

I finally uttered the idea to my mom. “What if?” Then I described all of the accoutrements that we bought for Marsha. She eats hay. HAS to have it as part of her daily diet. Mom shared, “I could never go on hayrides because I’m so allergic to hay!” And wouldn’t you know, mom and I have parallel allergies!

So I spent the next 48 hours praying that I am not allergic to Marsha. I can handle being allergic to her hay. Dom mentioned the idea to Vic, who came straight to me and asked “What if?” I promised her that if I am allergic to Marsha, we will just work around it. Marsha is here to stay.

Now what?

Well, I went to my doctor this afternoon. I love that she can see me on such short notice! I have been diagnosed with a cold. Maybe a little seasonal allergy layered in there somewhere, but definitely not a reaction to Marsha. The hay is still in question, but with some prescriptions and rest I should be symptom free soon.

And that makes me very hoppy!

Happy Mothers’ Day

Today is indeed a special day for moms, and while my mom and I will celebrate together next Friday, I want to take today to celebrate the mothers dear to my heart, who inspire me quite more than they will ever understand. Here’s to you, ladies!!

To Charolette, for raising the man I love.

To Elaine, whose children not only come first in her life, they are first in her thoughts every minute of every day, and it shows.

To Ginger, for the camaraderie in AC Math, AR, homework, progress reports…I could go on and on.

To Jill, for being so much more than a mom, and for leading by example: children trump job, every time.

To Kasie, who could feed the world from her very own kitchen, with one hand tied behind her back.

To Kathy, kind and gentle matriarch of our wonderful school, who loves hundreds of kids as if each were her very own. Thank you for your care of my babies.

To Kim, my Convert Comrade, who reassures me of my own abilities when I begin to doubt myself. “I’m just a vessel!”

To Margie, who is my example to follow in talking openly with my kids about everything, for reminding me not to take myself too seriously, and that there is always a reason for a good laugh.

To Mary, for hanging tough with me by saying, “You’re too freaking young for a cell phone, missy!!”

To Melissa, who makes it all look so easy, though I know it has been anything but.

To Mickey, who has raised six children and countless animals, for fast becoming my source of reassurance as I wrap my head around the different personalities of my children, especially the personality that differs from my own.

To Aunt Penny, for being so open and giving, and for allowing those she loves to be themselves.

Last but certainly not least, to my own mom, Jan, for giving me Life - in every sense of the word.

My sweet friends, I thank you for the therapy sessions, the encouragement, the light you radiate and the love you share. Happy Mothers’ Day to YOU!

Adventures with Walter

 

Meet Walter.  Walter came to our home from some random toy-producing party the kids attended.  Small, adult-palm size bright red teddy bear with now uneven eyes as a result of too much "gettin' to know ya" time with Mabel.  Walter was accompanied by Cupcake, a brown bear of equal presence. I haven't seen Cupcake in a while.  Walter, however, makes an appearance at least bi-weekly.  And in the oddest of ways.

Typically, Walter arrives on the scene because Mabel has scooped him and given him a new ‘do. She loves Walter and can't resist him.  Ever.  Good thing he’s bright red…makes him easy to spot hanging out of her mouth.

But today Walter made a highly unusual appearance, and it struck me as downright funny. During lunch I stopped at the store for some milk. Trying to hold three gallons while wrestling the car door open, I didn’t notice anything fall out. But when I closed the door, something red caught my eye on the parking lot – as I looked down at the red puff on the ground, my first thought was, hmmm…looks like Walter. Then it hit me. Holy smokes! It IS Walter!! Suddenly I felt like Tom Hanks in Castaway when he rescued Wilson and vowed to never let him go again. And then I realized how funny the whole thing was. I snapped a pic with the phone, scooped him up and tossed him onto Aaron’s seat.

I get a kick out of Walter.

Some Bunny to Love

Despite the trauma of the hermit crab story, Victoria persists in having a small, cuddly pet all her own. And while, yes, I agree that a puppy would be ideal for the unity of our four-legged children, I just don’t think we can handle three dogs. And besides, Mabel is supposed to be Aaron and Vic’s puppy, right? Rrrriiiiiiiiiight…

Vic asked me the other day if she could have a hamster. Yuk. I now know better than to hold a pet ransom for good behavior, but there is nothing stopping me from insisting the pet be earned before it is owned. I told Vic if she met her AC Math goal this quarter that I would get her a hamster, or some other equally rodent-like critter. I decided I’d better arm myself with information, and fast!

I talked it over with my friends at work and learned that a hamster might not be ideal for my own sanity. Another co-worker suggested a bunny rabbit, and after she shared with me how gentle and easy her kids’ rabbit is, I was sold!! And it didn’t take long to convince Vic that this was a much better pet idea. In fact, in just five days Victoria brought her AC Math points up from 2 to 15. We now have a mere 5 points to go!! In celebration of the near-victory, we went to the pet store to look at bunnies on Sunday. Wow. They are so darn cute!!! We picked one out and Victoria held it for nearly 45 minutes straight. It’s love, y’all. Pure hoppy love!

We left the bunny at the pet store, with my insistence that all the math points must be earned before purchase. But I have a feeling those last 5 points will be captured within the next 24 hours, so we can bring home – are you ready for this? – Marsha Mallow Mainiero.

I'm Just Sayin'...

One must keep in mind that no matter how much good I think I’m doing, my parenting skills can sometimes leave a lot to be desired. Case in point: today at my Mom’s house, Victoria interrupts our conversation to ask me, “Mommy, if I shake my head really, really hard and my brain gets shaken around in my head, can it kill me?"

Interesting question, as through my mind flash all the stories of shaken baby syndrome, contrasted with my friend Jill’s childhood fear that absolutely everything could cause certain death no matter the particular circumstances. So I ventured into:

“Well, let’s see. I don’t know if that could necessarily kill you just by the act of shaking your head. I have heard of instances where shaken brains caused a myriad of other problems…long-term inability to think and function for yourself being one. I seriously doubt you could shake your head hard enough to jar your brain loose on your own, but if you were trying to shake your brain loose, and shaking your head really hard, you could potentially lose your balance, fall down and hit your head on something, and that could cause you worse problems than a shaken brain. It would inevitably involve a trip to the hospital at any rate, so let’s just NOT try and do that, okay?”

As Victoria walked away from us with a dumbfounded look on her face, Mom looked at me and asked, “Geez, whatever happened to just saying ‘yes?’”

Bubble Blowin'

So here is what happens when Grandmama sends home two super-cool bubble machines for the kids to play with at our house. Mason and Mabel had an all-out Bubble Blast!!!!! They chased, they caught, they swallowed bubbles for about half an hour with Aaron and Vic maintaining steady streams of sheer fun!!

Sunshine and shiny things to chase...what's not to love????

Pet Names

We are a nicknaming kind of family. Aaron often answers to “Double A” while Victoria was tagged early with Miss Congeniality’s “Gracie Lou Freebush.” It’s a knack we have. I was pondering all our nicknames for Mason and Mabel the other day and realized we have quite a list!

Before we acquired Mason as a puppy, I already had him named. Taking Mason Stone from a Steven Segal movie, Mason Stone Mainiero was destined for pure greatness. However, he also answers to: Masonite, Monkey, Monk, Monkasaurus, Funky Monkey, Funkmeister, Funkasaurus Rex, Yella Dog, Big Yella, Furball, S***ball, Old Man, Huggin’ Man, Fur Factory, Poop Factory and Jealous.

Mabel was also named before we met her. I wanted a female black lab to complement Mason, and we would name her Mabel for the sole privilege of shouting out, “Hey Mabel, Black Label!!” I was so tickled with myself at the cleverness of the name! However, she has acquired the nicknames of Mabel Label, Mabelline, The Leine, Miss Mabel, Little Girl, Teeny Weeny Mabellini, Mabelline Jumpin’ Bean, Black Dog, Vixen, the Vixenator, the Destroyer, the Destructor, Fur Factory, Poop Factory and Jealous.

I love my zoo.   :)

Well, Good Morning!

Mornings are my quiet time. My only quiet time. From 6:15 to 6:45 on weekdays, I’m the only person awake and downstairs. I feed the dogs and fish breakfast, make coffee, prepare lunches. But it’s quiet, and I LIKE it!

Until yesterday. The previous night, Victoria slept in our bed because she was “scared.” No problem. She doesn’t sprawl like she used to, so I slept comfortably. But she woke up with me at 5:30. She stayed in the bed until I went downstairs at 6:15. I was surprised that she was awake already, since she is always the last one up on school days. She joined me in the kitchen and I explained that we were going to work quietly because everyone else was still sleeping.

But then I overheard Aaron ask if his shorts were in the dryer. And then I saw him on the stairs, dressed and ready to go from the waist up.

It’s 6:15 a.m., people!!!

“Aaron, baby, what are you doing up so early?”

“Victoria turned my light on.”

Kind of makes me glad I was an only child.

Bye Bye Babies!

These are the newest photos of my babies. I fell in love instantly when I saw them. This is the absolute best photographic representation of them in a school portrait EVER!! I am so proud of these pics.

But my babies aren't babies anymore...

Finally...Pictures!

Just spent some time cleaning off the camera card, and came across these new favorites:

First, Aaron and Victoria were in the backyard this weekend - Aaron was showing her something on the iPod.  They looked so cute I just had to snap some pics from inside the house so I wouldn't disturb them.  I love how well they get along!!

 Then they spied me spying on them!

Also on this card is a photo of the latest cross-stitch creation from Charolette.  This she made for Dom.  After she had it framed and showed it to me, I said, "Oh, I know just where to hang that!"  to which she gently replied, "Dom said it was going to his office."  Hmmmppfff!  ;)

And last, but not least, these two decided to have a wrestling match in the middle of us doing our state taxes tonight.  I paused long enough to get some good tooth-shots.  This is our dear Mabel and Mason...and their pearly whites.  We don't quite understand Mabel's fascination with being upside down.  She stands on her head a lot.