Peter's Tiger Lily

Looking Back

2012-01-06T19:42:00.002-06:00

I know I should be posting a picture from this year...a picture with my huge 5 year old and massive 10 year old with braces...but during Christmas break while we kept pj's on all day watching movies and playing with Christmas toys, we looked through pictures from all our past Christmas's...remembering special gifts, teasing me about wearing the same pj pants each year, and ooohhing and aaaahhing over our pretty Christmas trees. I love this picture...Henry was 5...which seems strange to me because it's the age Harrison is now. Henry seemed so old at the time, but looking back I see he was this small, sweet, tender little angel. Harrison is 9 months old...crawling around and loving everything his brother did...and playing with his brothers coveted timer~he's holding it in the picture...while turning around constantly to see the tree and his brother instead of posing for the camera.
Fleeting. Time with these little men is flying right by me...and I'm slowing down to see it...seeing them grow from little children into people...with their thoughts and feelings and interests...coming home from school talking non stop about their days, laughing together while they do homework, giggling while they brush their teeth~sometimes FC & I stand at the bottom of the stairs listening to them play and laugh...soaking them in so we can remember later.

Christmas Trees

2011-12-15T17:54:00.003-06:00

A Charlie Brown tree is maybe all I will soon have...since my friend has me convinced I am allergic to Christmas trees...or at least the mold they produce. I love Christmas trees...LOVE. The smell, the pretty lights, the star on top...LOVE. We even got two trees this year so I could have one in my bedroom to fall asleep to the lights...which of course are off when I wake up to pee at 4am (husband no likey pretty lights in his face all night). I still think it could be my constant cold-bronchitis-sinus infection that's making me sick, but some people just think they know everything.
All in all we're off to a pretty good Christmas season...so far we've done zoo lights, Kriskindlemart, walk down Michigan Avenue at night with cocoa, The Nutcracker, A Christmas Carol, Advent services, living nativity service complete with Harry being the "star", church ChristmasFest~all wonderful...plus 3 cookie exchange parties, 5 grown-up-drink-champagne-Christmas parties, a gingerbread decorating party...and still a family sing-a-long party to go! Phew. The gifts are all wrapped and hidden or mailed. Tomorrow and next week I have nothing planned except trying to enjoy a few more days of peace and quiet before kids are out of school bugging the shit out of me, oh I mean until I get to spent every blessed hour with my lovely children. Shopping downtown and lunch at RL to not be missed!! Oh and Henry was "scouted" by talent agent~so hopefully that will pay for college!
So aside from being constantly breathless we're having a great season!

Happy Veteran's Day

2011-11-09T09:13:00.005-06:00

I felt guilty for a minute yesterday that my kids have school on Friday~Veteran's Day. That's one difference between private and public schools. Public schools follow state policies and laws...private schools make their own rules~policies, days off, vacations, and which holidays to observe. I was slightly embarrassed, but then started thinking about all the things my kids will do at school on Friday, on top of their regular work~moments of silence, history lessons on different wars, art project commemorating the day, collecting food to donate to veteran centers, class discussions on why it's important to remember veterans and what being a veteran means. Now I'm a great mom~ I read to my kids, museums, teach them about the world, give them activities that enlighten and challenge them, blah blah blah...but in no way could I fill Friday with the same amount of veteran "activities" and teachings as the school will~and really that's just getting my moneys worth! One family I heard is planning a very special afternoon of a play date and Chuck e Cheese's...did the veteran's fight for the right to eat bad pizza and touch germ filled video machines??
So I don't feel guilty anymore...I feel lucky that my kids go to a school that takes the responsibility of teaching my kids about things I'm too dumb to teach them! I mean really isn't that what school is for?!

*Note: Found out this morning the older kids will also have a veteran visit school and talk to them about their experience...I'm not sure how better to spend the day!

Why Women Shouldn't Watch Sports...

2011-10-24T14:17:00.006-05:00

Strange I know for me to say, but I'm serious. You know I love me some football...it's pretty much what I plan my weekend around...plus this time of year with the world series overlapping with the NFL, I'm usually never happier. But I realized that women shouldn't be sports fans...they don't know how to do it. I know this now by seeing how men act after the big game. Men knew this already...they knew women can't do it. They just couldn't tell us.
Men love watching sports, having fantasy leagues, hanging out in sports bars, and standing around with men at social gatherings talking about whose team is up and whose fantasy team is kickin' ass...and I may know more than most of these men when it comes to stats, team politics, and what's new on Sports Center, but I am not welcome in these conversations.
I usually chalked it up to living in Chicago and NOT loving the Bears...(I like the Bears and cheer for them when they play well, but I have serious problem with how they as an organization are run. Plus the fact that I can't stand whimpy Jay and even whimpier Lovey. If "Fire Lovey" was on a tee-shirt I would wear it every Sunday. I can not stand there on Monday morning with the other fella's and high five talking about how great that "W" feels. It doesn't feel good at all. A few good throws from Mr. Not-So-Tough-Guy-Jay and a few lucky special team plays does NOT equal a long term winning team with a half rate no emotion sucky coach.) Phew. Sorry.

Ok. (Starting to sweat a bit). This was not going to be a rant on how much I hate the Bears. But in a way I've proved my point. "Women" are too emotional. They have their teams and love them and can not stand to see them lose. Men can slap the back of their Sunday enemy on Monday and smile and say "good game" or "almost had ya" or "way to go" or "we'll see next week". But not women. Women will take any reason, any excuse to hate each other. Case in point...Saturday Wisconsin played MSU. I live near MSU fans and they were outside when some Badger fans walked by...probably heading to local bar...they were "geared up" with t-shirts and hats and oh my god you would have thought the "West Side Story" music was playing in the background, but instead of dancing away their differences they were going to pull some gang shit and have at each other. Did I mention all these people were women? Men don't act that way. Now we are outside a lot on weekends and people frequently walk by headed to the bar supporting their favorite teams and only a few times have I wanted to throw things...I mean, smile and high five them and say "good luck"...really though, anyone but Patriot fans are more than safe to walk down our street. And only once have I been asked to leave a bar...but for Christ sake Dallas fans suck...and I don't steal flags anymore or end friendships over a missed call....just kidding. (Wow, totally sweating) Women just can't do it...they can't keep it friendly and sportsmanlike. They get too involved when their team loses or god forbid their team wins. Now it's true, that I refuse to go to Wrigley field when they play the Cardinals...but that's not because the Cubs lose, it's because the Cardinals will be up by 8 runs in the 7th and their fans are still yelling their heads off and talking smack about how the Cubs suck. (*Sidebar: If you're a Cubs fan you do care that they lose, don't get me wrong, but you love them and you're not going to stop loving them because they haven't won anything thing in a billions years...they're your team...if you jumped bandwagons you'd be a quitter and Chicago fans are no quitters.) Ok. Mostly I get upset because It's disrespectful and rude...and unnecessary, I mean there's no need to rub it in! But they can't help it...they don't understand Wrigley Field...what do they have? A 5 year old stadium bought by beer money...not the same. See, woman can't handle it. They have to drink beer, a lot of beer, and take a Xanax, and be alone, and turn down offers to go watch game at people's houses, and not go to bars, and sit alone and hope to high hell that their team wins...for once, for the love of god, for all that is good and holy...oh my god win! And when they do win, it's not good enough....they flash forward to the SuperBowl party they will throw and what types of cheese to serve...I mean food. Wow. Ok. That was a lot and I may have to stop.

And then women get upset over doping. Like why are players in the MLB, NBA, and NFL are protected from drug testing? I mean why aren't baseball players randomly drug tested before games like the world series? Because of money. Because of advertising. Because if half of the world series players were caught doping 2 days before game 5 and they were suspended the network, the advertisers, and team owners would lose a ton of money. So the players unions, and owners, and commissions protect the players from this happening. They wait until some doctor spills the beans and names names...starting a scandal and talks on the hill, and news of rule and policy changes~which by the way they don't.

Ok. Sports rant over. I am woman, hear me roar...and though I've mellowed and no longer yell mean things out my window as people in opposing team shirts walk by, I continue to love sports...even the ones riddled with doping...and the ones where the QB's cheat on their wives who have cancer or are gay and refuse to come out of closet *(note: I hate them 'cause they won't come out, not because they're gay). I love it all. I am even going to watch game 5 of World Series tonight and while I stare at the huge heads that are caused by steroid use, and try to think which team is the lesser of two evils to cheer for...I will breathe in the October night and enjoy the game! (with my xanax and alcohol)

Marathon

2011-10-04T12:19:00.003-05:00

The Chicago Marathon is this Sunday and I'm not running. I will be working in the "Elite Suite" at the Chicago Hilton~taking care of all the pro runners who are coming into town for the race. SO cool!! It combines a few things that I really love...running, taking care of people, and NEVER sitting down while you work!! My "boss" for the week asked me this morning about the past jobs I've had and I briefly told him about them but emphasized what they've all had in common~running around like a chicken with your head cut off, working with team for common, creative goal. LOVE those jobs! The next 5 days I will work roughly 14 hours per day. I will run to get what needs to be gotten. I will greet these athletics and welcome them to this amazing city and thank them for coming. I will meet their managers and coaches and work with them to make sure their athletics have what they need. I will hang out with my team after hours and drink beer. Friday and Saturday night I will work SO many hours that I will sleep in hotel and get to reminisce in the wee hours with one of my best friends about our long days. I will miss my kids. I will for 5 days be a person and not a mother...answering grown up questions and acting very mature (I'll try). I will drive a golf cart, taking the athletics back to hotel~NOT crashing...how embarrassing would that be?! The weather looks great (for us, not the runners) and I'm looking forward to this almost as much as I looked forward to running last year!
So have a great weekend friends and runners!! Look for me on the finish line!

Cutting The Cord...

2011-09-23T10:51:00.002-05:00

So when we got back from Lake Tahoe we sold (or rather turned in) our car and walked away from the huge monthly payment and additional costs, of maintenance, gas, insurance, etc. All equaling roughly $500 per month! Yikes! We'd talked about it for a while and agreed to get through the summer so we could enjoy roads trips and last minute adventures, but really with a 5 and 10 year old each with good walking feet, school 3 blocks away, the train running through the back end of our house and stores close by, who needs a car in the city? Not us. Except sometimes. Which is why we joined Zipcar and so far so good. It's making me more organized with my time and when and what I buy, plus it's just so much cheaper...and no hassle of parking, tickets, street cleaning, city stickers, plate stickers, registration, insurance, gas, blah blah blah. Now maybe in the middle of winter Peapod will become my friend, but even with a car I'd sometimes Peapod...I wouldn't want to shovel the car out just to go to store or didn't feel like unloading while double parked~it is nice just to have them pull up and carry in everything for you.
Anyway, as soon as the car was gone I felt liberated! We walk, we train, we Zip~each time checking out a new fun car to drive...LOVE the Audi hatchback I had last week! And now a simple trip to the Daley Center farmers market can turn into 4 mile walk home...checking out this awesome city and getting exercise all the way! Love.

...Three months later...

2011-09-22T23:21:00.004-05:00

Reading my last post it looks like we were off to a great summer! Movie nights, popcorn, family time. And I have to say it was probably the best summer yet...of course nothing will ever beat the week in Michigan two summers ago~that was by far one of the best weeks of my life~but this summer was really good! I pretty much took the summer off working on the house...not that I've done so much work on it anyway...but I really focused on the kids and our family. In early June I figured a great deal out about the friendships I had and the friendships I wanted and the ones I valued. I made a very thoughtful decision to go back...go back to me and to my family and remember who I was and the things I wanted...and I reminded myself I didn't have to settle for things in my life that didn't make me happy...sad that I'd forgotten that. And you know what? It suddenly became OK that I felt like no one listened to me or heard me...and I was in a moment stronger than I'd been in years. I wasn't falling apart or worrying or having crazy arguments in my head with people who I thought didn't like me. I was me again. Strong, fiercely independent, OK alone, and most of all happy to stand in my shoes, stand with my kids, with my husband, and not wonder why people look through me, don't see me, don't seem to show as much concern for me as I do for them, seem to take me for granted...I needed to no longer carry that around...and though my self esteem will always rear it's ugly head, I've become content, just content...happy again to be me and realize that I was looking for peace and acceptance in the wrong places and for me that's huge. Funny that years of therapy didn't get me here...just some thought, a few heavy talks with a close trusted friend, and me just stopping...stop trying to be someone I'm not. Big stuff here people!

Funny thing...so I've been writing and writing...and all of the sudden it was all gone, just popped off the screen...only this first part was still here...and I've looked and looked, but it's gone. And since I believe there are no accidents I can only think that whatever I wrote or felt five minutes ago didn't need to be said or heard or left here. Or maybe it was just enough that I wrote it, felt it and no one else needed to read it. Ha! I love that! Funny...I can't even remember really what I wrote. So even though my first thought was to throw my computer far across the room, I will simply tell you some more about what's going on, but do it differently, so fate doesn't screw me twice!

So at the end of the summer we went to Tahoe with my husbands family...big, loud, dysfunctional...and yes loving and sweet and though I complain and complain, by the time we left I was crying on my mother in laws shoulder. We do it for the kids...so they can play long days with their cousins, and listen to their mom dance around the kitchen with their aunties while we keep them up late with our laughing and then wake them up in the morning with more laughing while we drink coffee for hours not running out of things to say...yeah, that's right we do it for the kids! Best part of week was jet skiing to center of that freezing lake and swimming around with husband...snow capped mountains, clean blue beautiful lake and my husband in the water...love.

The sinus infection I've been toting around for the past year is finally getting the boot! Second round of drugs is kicking that thing to curb, plus a CT scan showed how much damage there is and how extensive the surgery will be...and though I don't look forward to the pain or the recoup, I look forward to feeling better and moving forward with things I want to do. And after two breathing treatments in ER the other day and of course even more drugs, I'm starting to feel new and sparkly!

Oh yeah, and after months of counting days on the calendar I've figured out exactly when to take the Zoloft each month so I don't yell and scream and scare the kids. Awesome. Thank you Zoloft.

So to recap...I'm happy I've figured some shit out, I'm soon to be sparkly and new, and I'm most happy in the water with my husband. Yeah, that's about it. I love fall...and this one is setting up to be a good one, we are starting a whole new chapter of our little families life...and it scares the shit out of me, but I'm pulling for us...I feel good and positive...maybe for the first time.

Sweet dreams...
XOXO

(so the writing last time disappeared when I tried to spell check~so I'm not doing that again, because this time I really will throw my computer...so forgive my errors!)

Movie Night

2011-06-22T11:32:00.003-05:00

We've had "movie night" almost every night of summer so far...not last night though, we went out to get a new bike for the little guy and went for ice cream! Anyway, these sweet "kid" movies have really been speaking to me...the innocent messages, like they are secretly meant for the parents...like this:

"Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift." Seems corny and silly I know, but if you're like me and sometimes have a tough time living in the moment and keeping things in perspective, it's a quick reminder to say to myself that is helping me from sweating the small stuff...and like the book says; it's ALL small stuff!

FC and I talked last night about this...it's tougher for him because silly as it sounds, he has less contact with the outside world...those kitchens are like bubbles and it's easy to not see what's really going on in your own home or in the world. Whereas I have daily reminders of the "big stuff"...like, friends divorcing, friends with terminally ill kids...real struggles that thank god, most people don't have to go through. But it reminds me to keep my head, try to keep my "troubles" in perspective and remember that I need to pull my head out of the bubble that is so easy to form around me...

Here's a picture of what's real and what I value most...

Little Babies

2011-06-17T22:48:00.003-05:00

My babies don't sleep like this anymore. They are big and smell like boys and wear underwear when they sleep or nothing at all. They take showers on their own and I never see them poop anymore. The 5 year old fell asleep on the dinner table tonight, summer kicking his ass already. He woke up and told me he was going to bed, cleared his plate and headed upstairs. When I went up 20 minutes later I thought I'd find him watching TV, but he was in his pj's, teeth brushed, and sound asleep. Sometime it seems they don't need me at all.
But they are small enough to run to Daddy when they hear the door and jump into his arms...even the 9 3/4 year old. They are small enough to cry when they fall and sometimes let me cuddle them super tight...but most times they wiggle away.
With the little guy asleep early I took the big one to 7-11 to buy huge pints of ice cream...he was dizzy with delight perusing the funky flavors...finally deciding on something filled with chocolate and brownies. Thought he was so super cool to be alone with mom, walking home with ice cream as his brother slept. We picked our movie, Nim's Island, got our pints and spoons and dug into both. We laughed and cried as Nim was challenged and Jody Foster acted crazy. We talked about recipes for Tiramisu and why Daddy was at the Field Museum tonight instead of the restaurant. He gets me. He knows the "Pure Michigan" commercials give me chills and makes my eyes wet. And today ask me yet again to tell him the story of when I first moved to Chicago and made me list all my apartments and streets...sad that I had trouble remembering the first one. Am I getting that old!? Don't answer that.

I still watch them sleep. I go into their room most nights about 2-3 times and just look or gently kiss their heads. I smile when they're spread out wide and remember how tucked in the little baby in them slept. Sometimes I wake up FC and we watch and remember. I miss those chubby thighs.

Where to Spend your Money...

2011-06-16T10:05:00.002-05:00

Now I'm not one of those "shut ins" who believes in conspiracies and thinks every major company is out to get them, but I do think you spend your money with companies you believe in...if given the choice. I do not go looking for background info on CEO's of companies I spend money with but if stumble on that info I feel compelled to act. Like I have long ago had a personal ban on WalMart...the fluorescent lights alone are reason not to go, but the fact that those mega rich Texas owners take up 3-4 spots on the "richest people in the US" list and they are also on the "richest people who give the LEAST to charity" list! I think that's crap.

I hate Kraft since they make shitty fat filled food and they merged with Philip Morris. PM is also parent company for Birdseye, Post, and General Foods...now this makes things tricky when I take the kids to the cereal aisle and my personal love of Grape-Nuts! Why hate Philip Morris? That seems pretty obvious...daughter of heavy smokers, my lungs compromised and seize up every time a someone with cigarette even walks by house, Big Tobacco ruining peoples lives and health, duh?!

I recently had a Chick-Fil-A sandwich in the Orlando airport...and I have to say given the fact that I have a wicked gag reflex when I even look at chicken, this was an amazing sandwich...the texture, the moist yumminess, the pickles! But then to find out that the owner of CFA gives a boatload of money to anti-gay and Christian family groups...well, I can live without the chicken.

Do I care that Trader Joe's was started by Germans who have ties to Nazi's? Yes. But I do shop there now and then. (Sorry RE)

Whole Foods owner is a total loon, but it's not that that bugs me. It's the INSANE markup of his food. They have become the WalMart of "natural food stores", by strong arming vendors, they promote their own brands more than local farms. Their arrogance by acting like they don't have their share of SEC scandals, law suits for carcinogens in products, e-coli outbreaks, rat infestations, and a crazy owner who comes up with fake names to trash other people in social media and who doesn't believe people are entitled to proper health care. I refuse to throw up my hands and believe that's my only option for healthy food. Talking to farmers who are being pinched so bad by the buyers of WF. They boast "local produce"? Go to our local GreenCity Market and ask all the farmers if WF carries their products and the answer is no. Buying at Whole Foods (or "Whole paycheck") does NOT mean it's healthy...just look for "yeast extract", it's in many of the 365 and vegan products, it's a fancy name for MSG. Their trucks are using gas and driving coast to coast just like everyone else...nothing "local" about that. When I go to my husbands restaurants and see what boxes of vegetables cost and then look at the prices at Whole Foods I am shocked and sad...it just seems like they're taking advantage of us...especially here in the mid-west where we don't have many other options of natural stores. The alternative to WF? Going to the local farmers markets all summer and really buying local...the markets now run into November. Plus during the winter you can do "farm shares" and get weekly, or monthly deliveries of fresh, local produce. As for all the other things you'd buy, there are organic and health conscience foods at all other local grocery stores. So really?!!? Blah!

The problem is is that it has become so damn difficult to be "conscience"! You could go in any "health conscience" persons home and find some crap food or another...and I do know people who praise themselves "conscience shoppers" and there is some evil in their house too...big business, big tobacco, politically backward, MSG, fructose...whatever it is even if you have the best intentions it sneaks in! Some days I don't know what to eat!!

Tiramisu

2011-05-26T19:26:00.002-05:00

I fancy myself quite the Tiramisu connoisseur. I feel in love with it years ago...in high school at an Italian restaurant called Pietro's. I doubt it was made there...an important detail I overlooked for years but now has become my question to all waiters. Now whether they answer honestly I don't know...however I like to think I can tell. My husband teases me, "they have Tiramisu"...knowing then that since they have it, I will order it...even if I just take one bite. I've actually never made it...but am now inspired to having had now, after 20 years, the best I've ever had. It was the other night at a restaurant called "Topo Gigio" on Wells, in the "Old Town" neighborhood. I asked, of course, if it was made "in house" and the waiter went far out, dangling actually, on limb to tell me "it's the best in the city"...well, bring it!! It was light but rich, had the perfect ratio of cream to mascarpone, plus the ladyfingers had just the right amount of moisture. Plus it came in a glass bowl (similar to picture), which I loved and it was molded to sides telling me it had indeed been made at the restaurant in individual bowls! With that description you'll either hate it and never come back or think he's the best waiter ever 'cause he told you the truth! Well, I loved it and now plan on making it myself...not sure why I am inspired NOW to make it rather than before when I thought I'd never have it just right, but who cares!

Restaurant link:
http://www.topogigiochicago.com/

Sample recipe courtesy of Gale Gand. I may start with this one...
Ingredients
7 yolks
1 cup sugar for yolks
3 cups or 1 (750-gram) container mascarpone
4 1/2 tablespoons water
1 1/2 tablespoons powdered gelatin
3 egg whites
1/4 cup sugar for whites
1 cup heavy cream, whipped
2 1/2 cups cooled espresso
1/2 cup kalhua
20 to 24 ladyfingers
1 cup chocolate shavings

Wives

2011-05-23T21:41:00.003-05:00

Tonight while taking the dog for a walk around the block with the kids we met Kerry Wood. He lives around the corner and was coming out of his house with his kids right when we walked by...and his son asked me if he could pet my dog. I of course said yes and this cutie pie (the kid, not Kerry) starting talking my ear off about dogs and bikes and telling me how old he was...so cute. My boys came riding up and the little boys went into "kid speak". Soon their whole family was out on sidewalk and I was introducing myself...I didn't realize this was Kerry Wood until he said his name...he just said his first name but pitchers have a certain look about them so I knew right away. His wife is very pretty and nice and we share a first name...making the joke "oh we won't forget each others name" ha. ha. ha. Anyway...they were headed out for ice cream and we were walking same way and the little boys were already running ahead comparing bikes and scooters so we chatted as we walked...well, I should say Kerry chatted with me. His wife was pushing stroller and walking a bit faster...sadly my bursitis is back so I was taking it easy. One of their mothers was there too and she was walking next to me...but again, wife not so much. She seemed to have no interest in making a new neighbor friend...I mean she didn't pull out her cell phone and make a phony call, but she for sure gave me the not interested vibe. Now trust me, I can talk to anyone...and I do admit I know more neighbors than our friends three doors down who have lived on the block for 10 years...I'm friendly and I'm nosey...but man, aren't you happy when you've gone on vacation and I'm cleaning up your stoop and shoveling your walk!? Anyway, it didn't strike me as either rude or bitchy...I was really out to get my 9 year old properly introduced so he could say he's met Kerry Wood...mission accomplished and he was really excited...of course I waited to tell him until after we'd parted ways...not wanting to "gush" or scare them! My other neighbors are a little afraid of me 'cause I look in their windows...not in a scary way, just in a "hey, watcha doing?" way. Whatever. I think they like it.
Anyway, it didn't hit me until much later that this poor woman was probably thinking "get the hell away from my husband, bitch"...much like I do when little "chef groupies" (a phrase I would like to coin) talk to my husband. As soon as I realized this I wanted to (and still do) run back, peek in their windows to explain that indeed I am not crazy or a baseball groupie or am I in anyway dangerous! I simply wanted my son to meet his neighbor the baseball player. But you see now I'm in...I'm all in. I will be this woman's new BFF...even if I have to "accidentally" fall and break a limb in front of their house. What a cute story that will make while we vacation together!!
In all seriousness, I've been struggling with the "chef's wife" bullshit lately...I lean on my fellow chef's wives quite a bit and we band together during late lonely nights while we eat cereal for dinner...but I feel like this woman, my new BFF, could really give me some new perspective...on motherhood, on having a husband in the spotlight, and beating off these little bitches who think it's fun to flirt with married men. We could have coffee and take walks and play with kids while we swap stories of single-motherhood and slutty groupies. I'm certain I can make this work. The key is stalking and being in the right place at the right time...but having it seem natural. Yeah, I've got this.

Fresh Summer Salad

2011-05-23T12:40:00.009-05:00

...this salad is fresh and simple to make. Entire prep time is while rice cooks...so you can rock it out for last minute side dish...or do what I do and pair it was some "everything" crackers or flatbread and some white wine on a hot summer night.
It's similar to Tabbouleh...so if you're not a fan of parsley, stop reading!

Ingredients:
1 package Rice Pilaf (I use the Near East brand)
1 bunch fresh curly parsley
2 scallions
1 cucumber
hand full of tear drop tomatoes
1 tablespoon Olive Oil
juice from 1/2 lemon
sea salt

Cook rice using directions from package...meanwhile cut cucumber, tomatoes, scallions. Chop parsley. Cut lemon in half.
When rice is done cooking I spread it out on a sheet pan with parchment paper on it and put it in freezer for 7 minutes. This way it's perfectly cooled down if you're making this on the fly!
In medium bowl put cucumber, tomatoes, onion, and parsley...add rice (fold parchment long ways, pick up and you can very easily spoon in)...squeeze lemon into bowl, add olive oil, & 3 pinches salt (use a good sea salt) and mix up.

Taste it. Always taste your food! Especially something like this that will always need to be "tweaked"...I always end up adding more lemon juice and maybe some more salt...and if you think it needs more color you can always add more tomatoes.
I love this salad! I can barely if ever wait to serve it...most times my "taste" turns into some huge spoonfuls!! Today I made it as I wrote this and literally stopped writing, ate hearty bowl full with flat bread! Such a good lunch!! And since my husband is being more heart conscience this is a perfect side dish for salmon, or midnight snack for him!
*Sorry I don't have picture of finished product...I ate half the bowl before I remembered to take picture!
Enjoy & happy summer!

GOing to BAttLe...

2011-05-22T19:56:00.002-05:00

After last mouth and the horrific PMDD I'm gearing up for another round. Thinking about trying the Prozac again...maybe downing the mg. Last month I lost track of time and it came out of nowhere and hit me like a ton of bricks, but this time I'm ready. I have new "app" that tracks my cycle...and I programmed date of arrival on my phone and set an alarm! I should be ready for that first day of exhaustion and the meanies to follow and then of course the ever so beloved "I hate myself and no one really loves me" crying! Can I get a whoop whoop!! If the lower dose prozac doesn't cut it or gives me the heebie-geevies like last time, I will be switching to a full time antidepressant. I've put this off for years..denied it, "forgotten" to ask doctor, and more or less thought I could handle to mood swings and depression and rage that haunts me. But I have a friend, who put it into perspective..."why wouldn't you take something that will simply make you feel better, instead of trying to do it alone?" She's right and what's really annoying is it's exactly what I oh so knowingly said to my mother a few years ago regarding her OCD. I remember saying and I still believe that she could take something low dose that could make the little things she feels are so important or the worrying she does subside...that way she could enjoy more of her life. Well, clearly I should take my own advice. So that's the plan...see how this next round goes and then make long term decision. Thank you to my dear friends who helped me through last round...it was not pretty and very scary. You know who you are and I love you dearly.

Ballet

2011-05-17T12:11:00.004-05:00

It's every little girls dream to be a ballerina. Is it the outfits? The music? The fancy shoes? Sugarplum fairies at Christmas time?

Here's my ballerina idol...Gelsey Kirkland. She was famous in the 70's for killing her body and spirit with eating disorders, drugs, and a stalker worthy love affair with Mikhail Baryshnikov. But she triumphed with recovery, a healthy marriage, and of course a best selling-tell all novel! This picture was taken before she got a botched lip injection...one she got to please her love interest...sad. Always looking to be better, never thinking you're enough...coming up with crazy ways to be perfect. Some ballerina's have ribs removed to be thiner or their feet broken and re-set to have better point.

Here's Baryshnikov back in the day...eat your heart out Rob Pat, this is the original hottie! He's still probably the most famous American (defected in 1974) ballet dancer.

I see little girls in their little tights going to "ballet" all the time...my son takes "ballet"...that's what he calls it, but it's really a dance class mixed with fairy tales and stories...meant to foster love of movement and imagination. Isn't that what ballet at age 3-8 should be? I'll answer that. Yes. I say 8, because I think only at 8-10 is a young persons body just ready for the length of a real ballet class and if serious, they at 12 could begin multiple classes per week. Classes at 3-8 should just be called "Dance" or "Movement"...introducing little ones to all dance styles...I fear these classes give a false sense of what ballet truly is. They see this pretty pink fairy tale world, love it and god forbid they're talented and have a passion for it, then the mask falls and the 'black swan' appears...the ugly side. Is the crazy Natalie Portman 'Black Swan' true? To be blunt...yes. It can be an amazing sport and life-style...given that you're ready to leave home at 13-15 with summer training camps where there is no campfire, devote by that age 6-8 hours per day everyday, maybe leave high school with GED and join company at 16 and have a body-altering career that considers you old by 30. That said, there are so many parts of ballet I miss...of course parts I don't, but there is a feeling you get whether in class or on stage that is undeniable...your heart is racing and you feel truly alive.

I love this picture...Gelsey's legs! and that perfect broken foot!

...Misha's, well his...you get it...makes you want to dance huh?

School Auction!

2011-05-10T12:30:00.003-05:00

Don't you love how in the beginning of the night your hair is pulled back, your make-up is perfect, and you're standing up straight?

...And then you start to dance!

My hair has always been the indicator of a good time...if it's down, look out!

But seriously, my kids school fund-rasier was this past weekend...and it was so fun!! There is nothing like an event at The Drake...ballroom all glamed up, people in their fancied best, lots of champagne and good music...plus, super-duper fun neighbors (who are now good friends) whose kids don't go to your school but they come anyway and have a blast...and of course buy the biggest Barbie thing they can get their hands on! Thank you so!! The whole night was a wonderful success...yes, a ton of work and by 2:30 am I was wasted tired...but still so fun!! Thank you to all who came and supported our school!! PLUS, the next day I pulled out the old big hat and went to our friends annual Derby party and WON $260 bucks!! Way to place "Nehro"!!!

...dogs and kids

2011-04-28T16:40:00.003-05:00

(crazy dog)

In thinking about dog obedience training I began to wonder why they don't offer obedience training for kids? If you're a parent you've had those "other peoples kids" in your house...you know, the ones that are louder than yours, they don't listen or get off the furniture...they run fast, jump high, and eat everything...they may even pee on the floor. Well, when the dog we were watching for a friend starting showing all that behavior I in my snotty-I-know-everything manner texted the owner that she should consider obedience training so the dog could walk properly on a leash, listen to "no", stop eating my furniture and attacking my kids...I know, I'm a keeper! She answered back in a defensive tone, with good reason...if someone said those things about Max (the most perfect and best dog in the history of dogs) I would be defensive too! But back to my question...haven't you ever had kids in your house and thought "what the hell are wrong with them?"...Wouldn't it be great if "kid obedience" was just what ya did? Just like dogs...like when they turn 3 you sent them off to have someone else show them how to be nice, not jump, not eat the furniture, not destroy things, not pee on the floor, how to share, and how to walk properly on a leash, oh wait no, I don't walk my kids on leashes...really.
Anyway, I'm glad MY kids and dog are SO perfect!! Ha! :)

(Max & this Buddy Oliver)

If time stood still...

2011-04-22T23:50:00.021-05:00

...I could smell that baby smell once more...

there'd be biking...

and sun-drentched picnics...

I wouldn't just have one Tigger...

I'd have two...

They would fit on a sled together...

and find the joy in a bucket...

...and again...

They would cuddle with us longer than to just ask for a new app...

and we'd be at our old park in California...

and he would always look like his daddy...

and be small enough to sit in this seat at Grammy's house...

or at least his little brother would still fit in it...

we'd have slurpee's on the stoop...

and I could play Hullabaloo with Henry everyday...

and if I could I'd go for #3!

You're right LBC, the word is fleeting...

Enjoy!!

Run Fast Ass Run!

2011-04-20T21:47:00.002-05:00

...ok I know the look on my face could be better, but if my waist always looked that small and my breasts that big I would wear that frownie face all the time! I have GOT to start running again!

Hoppy Easter!

2011-04-20T12:25:00.001-05:00

Easter bunny got ready today!

(Yes, I make myself a basket...I was thinking if I had one of my own, I wouldn't eat the kids chocolate when they're asleep...we'll see how that goes!)

Family Vacation!

2011-04-19T12:52:00.009-05:00

"If you can dream it, you can do it. Always remember that this whole thing was started with a dream and a mouse.”
~Walt Disney

After dinner drinks at the bar, sans kids...

View from our private deck...

Laying by the pool, watching the ocean drift by...

Hugging our heros...

The joy of jumping in the pool...

First family vacation...dream come true!

Keep dreaming friends!

Thank you LBC!!!

...trust me, still keeping it light

2011-03-28T19:19:00.003-05:00

Day #2 of Prozac...no really, it's light, trust me. After my "baby" was born (he's 5) I was excited to go totally off "the pill" or any form of hormone...I was going to be all natural, all mother-earth, all flax seed with every meal...all, well you get the idea. Anyway, for the first few years I had horror movie type periods, plus awful PMS...probably not awful to some women's standards but since I'd only ever had light, easy, no crampy, no thank you I don't feel like ripping your head off periods...this sucked. I couldn't leave the house, or wear white, or control the crying. Well the bleeding has gotten better (sorry Ross), but the week before it's now like a schedule of wicked crazy tired followed by two days of crying and thinking long and hard about how much I suck, then two days of yelling, screaming, raging, and basically feeling like "The Hulk".
So, after very little discussion with my new doctor he suggested Prozac...to be take for the 7 days right before my "Menses". MENSES. I fucking love that word. Are you kidding me? Menses?? So, when I picked up my Prozac at CVS, the pharmacist says "so, you're taking this for...(pause, pause, look down and bottle)...Menses?" That was when I smiled and very proudly said , "yes"!
So far so good. No sign of "The Hulk".

this week...so far *(keeping it light, don't worry)

2011-03-23T23:04:00.005-05:00

After my last post I figured I'd just tell you what's up this week so far...keep it light...no major breakdowns or hauntings from my past...you're welcome.

So, I think I may have "whooping Cough"! Now, I don't exactly "whoop" when I cough, but it seems like I fit most of the symptoms ...except for the whoop, and my blood count is fine (you have an elevated white blood cell count when you have what will now be called "The Whoop"...why? because it's fun and sounds better)...you may also ask yourself "how does she know her blood count?", well, because I've seen more doctors in the past 3 months than I think ever before...(think, think), yes, ever before. Between the toe, "the whoop", strep throat, and a wicked sinus infection my insurance company sent me flowers because they are grateful for the business. So, no I don't have "the whoop", but it feels like it. I wheeze and can't seem to control the coughing. I cough so much I turn red, almost throw up, and have people say "are you ok?"...or my "closer" friends say "are you still coughing?" Yes. I . Am.

I'm helping a friend who is running our school auction...and monday we went and had a tasting at The Drake...fancy schmancy. It was fun and it felt good to act like adult for brief moment...actually have people not only ask for my opinion, but think what I said was smart and act on it...nice. Thanks LBC. (By the way, you're super pretty.)

I'm having an MRI on Friday for the foot. Don't ask me what the heck it could be...what started as a painful, yet simple planters wart is now "something" (quote from fancy Michigan Avenue doctor). Something? What the hell is "something"? Broken bone? Man, if I've been walking around on broken bone I'm never taking crap from anyone again! No longer "sickly", tough as shit!! Aw yeah. Like the time my "good friends" kept telling me I was tired because I was bored and stuck home all day with kids, that I needed a job like them to be happy and less tired. Well, bitches, two days later I got diagnosed with mono! In your face!

Last week I had a fun idea for a cookbook that I could produce with help of a chef or chefs...I'm not saying what idea is cause you'll steal it...but it's great and if someone else does it first I'll tell you then that it was my idea first!

Bought a shower curtain for my $8000 bathroom...seemed only right...like it deserved it. Of course I got the most simple and least expensive the store had...not spending another dime on that room! I do like it though. It's amazing to be headed upstairs to pee and realize I could go back down and enjoy peeing on the first floor...in the bathroom.

Possible snow tonight?? Are you kidding? Not at all funny. Rude actually. Well, that's ok. In 17 days I'll be the Bahamas!!

Shame

2011-03-21T11:10:00.002-05:00

I've lived with some sort of shame my whole adult life. It's awful really. To feel responsible and embarrassed by things that were not even in my control. Having been molested repeatedly as a child fills me with this, and though through therapy I've gotten used to dealing with it, it still haunts me. I used to compartmentalize it; put it in a box and place it on a shelf, then take it down when there was time in my life or the need to deal with it. Funny, but I've made so many good changes in my life I have to say that I'm proud of myself for how little it effects me anymore. I've even laid some groundwork for the future; like planning on going back to full time therapy again soon with my older son starting 4th grade next fall...you see, that's the year it began for me and "they" say adults who are molested as children have a subconscious reaction when their children become the age they were when their abuse took place. Plus since mine happened at my school I do not feel like having panic attacks everyday I walk him to school, or since the words "4th grade" will bounce around all year it's somewhat beyond my control to not feel uncomfortable. I've always had strong sensory reactions. Smells set me off. Flashes of the past. Humid rainy days, like today. Not good. But I'm doing great...I keep busy and stay focused on my present life and daily routine.
But the shame lurks and sneaks up on me. I now know, it was not my fault...it was not something I could control, and it's not something I meant to happen or asked for or deserved. You have no idea how difficult those statements were to say and worse, truly believe. But having help, love, friends to talk to and understanding makes a big difference. Mostly having my husband who has known this from the beginning, I tried to frighten him away with my past on our 3rd date, but it didn't work...thank god. It was hard, but last night, after being together for 12 years I told him something I've never told him. I was raped. I was raped and sexually abused in my early 20's...21 actually. It was someone who I was in a relationship with and I, being someone who grew up having has sexual abuse, didn't know any different, or felt like this was ok, and felt like I deserved this...I deserved someone taking advantage of me, holding a knife to me and forcing themselves on me in the worst way. He was older and everyone liked him. I'd sat on the stairs and overheard my father tell him how much my parents liked him and told him we shouldn't wait to get married, we should do it. I walked through my life thinking I was crazy, because this was a great guy. I was wrong. He did things to me I will probably never be able to utter...and I feel ashamed. I feel shame that I didn't know better, didn't go to the police, didn't stop, didn't move out, didn't tell anyone, didn't in my mind have anyone to tell.
Finally, after one long scary night I did leave and never went back. I walked away.
I block out the memories of that but once in awhile they sneak up...the shame that washes over me is powerful and all consuming. But I have my life now, my husband who loves me just the way I am, my kids, my friends...and yes, a very good therapist! I will continue to learn and grow from each memory and experience and I will remember what's important...I'm here, and I'm loved, and I now value and love myself...

Past Month

2011-03-03T13:40:00.004-06:00

Let's see...construction. CONSTRUCTION. Holy Shit construction. Plastic walls that fail to hold in dust. Crap everywhere. Every morning a new issue and a new thing to go buy. Yesterday is was tile. The day before it was the door, special order of course! We are 2k over budget and climbing. I love my 150 year old house. I LOVE my 150 year old house. (my new mantra)

Next, broken washer. Fucking, mother fucking broken washer. You're kidding right? You piece of crap. You're not my friend anymore. (the washer, not you) So new washer. Of course can't install new washer because of the CONSTRUCTION!!! Oh good god. So in the meantime I'm raising the budget myself by paying Lupida to do our laundry...I've always wanted a Lupida.

What else...well I have strange growth on foot. Had surgery to remove it. They don't know what it was. It hurts like a mother fucker and I've been limping since January 3rd, but who's counting...I AM!!! Mother of god, let me walk again and for goodness sake RUN! I'm getting fatter by the minute. Between eating out every mother fucking night because of the CONSTRUCTION and the those fucking girl scout cookies, I'm fat. No really. FATT. Oh, yeah, when you're doing the budget for mother fucking construction anywhere near your kitchen, add on $500 for eating out every fucking night.

And if the limping weren't enough, I sound like an old lady who has smoked her whole life...I can not catch my breath. I've been on rounds of drugs and I'm not sure if it's the mother fucking construction or the exposed mold (nice....I love my 150 year old house, really I do) but I can not fucking breathe. I'm sucking on inhalers like a crazy freak and with the limping AND turning 40 last week, well let's just say H.O.T.

Let's see, there's more I know it...ok, my friend died last week. Yeah, I know, I saved the best for last. I was with him on January 22nd...he had a cold and was pounding the pavement looking for job in the cold and I teased him about catching pneumonia because he wasn't wearing a hat and his coat looked shitty...being from Florida, I chalked it up to him not knowing how cold Chicago can get. Well, guess what he died of? That's right, pneumonia. Nice Sarah. I should have bought him a coat or given him a ride to the doctor...he had no insurance and finally felt so shitty he walked into ER at Cook County. He was 27 year old cook with a kid. Sad. Very sad. He was in the hospital for weeks on ventilator and died the other day. Awful.

I've no good wine to share info on...and haven't cooked anything yummy lately. Soon the construction will be over and we will have built a bathroom, fixed some rotten foundation and rebuilt the main support beams for house, all good...plus, gone broke, had foot surgery twice, and lost a friend. Good times. The upshot is kids are great...and husband just got great review Chiacgo Magazine...here it is!
http://www.chicagomag.com/Chicago-Magazine/March-2011/Review-L2O-in-Lincoln-Park/

Cheers!

Sunday Dinner

2011-01-30T14:59:00.010-06:00

Tonight's dinner is Pot Roast...70's style. You see, my husband (the chef) asked for "pot roast" one night and I assumed I would be driving to Paulina Market to choose the finiest meat or he'd order some expensive cut from the restaurant. I saw myself headed to Whole Foods to hand select fresh organic veggies...and most of all using the 5 quart Le Creuset pot to cook for hours our roast to perfection! He'd had a long week so I was willing to go to these lengths...to make him happy. However, he quickly informed me he wanted his "mother's pot roast", which I knew right away didn't included anything but grocery store meat and nothing organic (no offense Grammy)...I also, for those of you waiting for my MIL freakout, was NOT offended! I have the greatest MIL in the world and though I make fun of her cooking, I know her recipes bring my husband comfort. So I call Grammy and ask for her pot roast recipe...who tells me later in years after my husband moved out, she changed her pot roast ways and for sure hasn't made it the way FC is remembering it in 20 years. Great, thanks. Luckily this is on a Tuesday and I have all week to prepare for Sunday dinner and please the Mr.
Well, long story short, FC tells me "you know, the one in 'the bag'...I made it for you in New York"....ok. yes. Fine. Bag? Oh boy. Anyway, you know the section of the spice/seasoning aisle at the market (not Whole Foods, but the 'real people' market) that has the pre packaged seasonings? You know, there's a 'sloppy joe', a 'meatloaf', and 'taco seasoning'....? I'm sure they are filled with sodium, but what I haven't bothered to read won't hurt me! So there's one package that is "Pot Roast, Bag 'n Season"...in it are seasonings and a cooking bag that you fill with your meat and veggies and cook it up! Genius, says the chef! Trust me, nothing makes FC happier in the kitchen than this food...food that makes you feel good and is warm and yummy. People ask me all the time if we eat fancy and 4 star at home....ah, no. no we don't. That's dumb. We're normal...we eat pizza, and junk, and meatballs sandwiches from the corner pizza place....and yes, pot roast in a bag.
So, I've been a pot roast snob for years and this bagged pot is the best damn roast I've ever had...yes. So here's the step by step.

Step 1: Cut veggies and set aside. I season as I cook...veggies just need a bit of salt and pepper.

Here is the "Bag 'n Season" and what I now can't live without, "Miracle Blend"...awesome.

Meat: Pot roast 2-4 pounds, just depends how you like your beef to veg ratio.

Season meat with salt, pepper and Miracle Blend...put in bag.

Add bag seasonings to 1/4 cup warm water (directions on package) and 1/4 bottle of good wine. Today I used a Sangiovese...and BTW, I don't believe in "cooking wine", never cook with something you wouldn't drink. Tonight, since only 1/4 wine used it leaves the perfect amount to drink!

Add veggies, seasonings, and wine to bag...mix around, tie up (with supplied tie) and put in oven safe dish.
Cook for 2 hours at 350. Cut bag open, careful it's hot...and pour into same dish. Serve.

Eat. Enjoy. Repeat.
Happy Sunday.

Before and After

2011-01-28T10:13:00.006-06:00

So with the new "art" space we have off the kitchen I decided to repaint this ugly little table I found in an alley. The first picture is the "before"...ugly, with this nasty thick finish and 70's gloss.

The next picture is the "stripper" soaking in...it gives it a very pantina green color. After that process you scrape it off and then clean the table with "stripper wash" (don't think we didn't come up with some jokes for the many uses of "stripper wash")...anyway, after cleaning it with the wash, which smells awful and gave me nasty headache, you let it sit for a few hours and then you're good to go!

The third pic is the finished product...two coats of Martha Stewart paint...I'm in a "Ralph Lauren blue" phase. Harry picked out new handles, they look like little dessert plates...so cute and he was SO excited to help. He helped do all the painting too! And since I can't have anything in my house that looks too new or clean or unchipped, I took sand paper to it and unfinished the edges and sides to give a more "lived" look, plus took white paint and mixed with water and gently rubbed it into the table...again, just to gum it up a bit. I like how it turned out and combing the alleys for more furniture!

Wine of the Week #2

2011-01-28T09:42:00.004-06:00

This weeks wine is...

'Cooralook' 2007 Shiraz from the Kirby Family Vineyards, Victoria Australia

Victoria sits on the southeast tip of Australia and the "Heathcote" region is a large, well known producer of Shiraz grapes. The Kirby family is fairly new to winemaking, they planted their first plot in 1992 and now have vineyards in 5 regions. The 2006/2007 growing season experienced a relatively dry winter, but heavy some spring rains and above average temperatures early in the growing season made for an even "budburst" and excellent shoot (tip of the vine) growth development, making the fruit to ripen effectively...yes, I can get all technical when it comes to wine! Weather plays a huge role in winemaking and when learning about wine you hear all about weather patterns and how chilly nights and Spring rains or heat can effect the grapes.

The color of this wine is deep, yet gentle ruby with a lovely intense purple hue true to a shiraz that seems to leap from the glass. Dark berry fruit, spice and cloves are dominant on the nose. I found this wine to "brood" a bit, then open up wonderfully...again, like last week I enjoyed it on an empty stomach with no "pairing" to be found, except some quickly ordered meatball sandwiches which did this wine right! There were some underlying scents of pepper, provincial herbs and a bit of oak, due to the French barrels. My feeling is that this wine really delivered everything you want in a Shiraz, yet for me, didn't have that extreme "jammy" fruit thing that normally hits you over the head with Shiraz, but instead had balanced fruit and some great mineral dirt quality! *Dirty Girl! My husband agreed this was "one of the best bottles we've had in a while".

The price: $14.99 (again, awesome)

Sidebar info: The Syrah grape and Shiraz grape are the same grape! In Australia it's called Shiraz, but everywhere else it's Syrah!

Enjoy and happy drinking!!

Also, for you Chicago people...I got this wine at Kafka Wine Shop on Halsted/Buckingham. They specialize in wine under $20! I went the other day to see what they had and walked out with a case! They also have some other "higher priced" bottles that are select beauties from some of the top producers on the world! Stop by next time you're in the area!

snowy day

2011-01-27T12:40:00.004-06:00

I'm in bad with dog. Yes, the same dog who puked so deep under the bed that I had to completely dismantle the bed and the room to clean it, didn't take him back to PAWS. He's sleeping, snoring really. It's snowing and I'm enjoying the silence this weather brings...no one yelling on their cell phone while walking down my street...just silence. It's nap time so Harry is in bed and I figured since I was feeling bad, I'd get in my bed. No Pandora, no TV, no Solitaire...just the dog snoring and the light coming in...my mind is racing though. I'm worried. I'm thinking. I'm wondering how. I'm worried about my friend Jess...coming clean to her parents, telling them she's struggled with bulimia for years, still does...wanting their understanding and compassion...she didn't get it. I've walked in her shoes...it's lonely. To decide, yes decide, to go back and deal with things...it's like last night, cleaning up the dog puke and realizing it was days old...hard to the carpet and totally gross, tricky to clean up...that's what it's like, to pull the band-aid and let the blood flow. Hang on Jess. Hang on. These first days of bleeding will feel like the hardest of your life and make you question why you're doing it...but keep going.
I'm thinking about the construction that starts tomorrow in the kitchen...all the dust and mess...Have I moved everything I could? Will dry wall dust get into my lungs and cause an attack? Where's my inhaler? Did I pick up that refill? How long will construction take? Will I have the bathroom by the Super Bowl?? That would be great...Go Pack Go.
I'm thinking about setting up dinner for 24 people at the church tomorrow night...I have to bring the kids because FC won't be home yet. I hope they're well behaved and help me. Need to buy more white wine and maybe some more crackers.
I'm making pot roast tonight...yum. Do I have enough red wine? Not sure. Between my inability to make a decision and the pimples on my face I have to be getting my period soon, right? Haven't had it in two months.
I wondering how...how did I pick up the phone and call my 4th grade teacher? I was about 28 years...I sat on my bed and dialed. I told him I knew he'd molested me for 2 years and I think he is awful and should die a painful death. I don't even remember it really...the conversation lasted about 10 minutes. After he denied it he told me I should get some help...yeah, thanks dick head. It wasn't so much his reaction I was interested in...but more I needed to say the words out loud. I needed him to know that I knew, that I remembered and the things he'd done to me were out there...out of that room, out behind the curtain he'd hung. Fuck him. Hate that guy. Hope he's dead. I know...I'm mean.
I think it was the right thing for me to do...to not have any expectation of a result...to just do it for me. I felt so powerful...so strong willed, like I was nothing like that little girl he'd hurt. But you can't blame her...I don't. Ha! Look at me, getting better!! Who knew!?

*This picture is from one of my favorite snowy days...in Michigan. We are standing on the frozen waves of Lake Michigan!

Wine Of The Week!

2011-01-21T18:02:00.003-06:00

Today I decided I needed to mix it up! My blog I mean. So I'm taking off my "Debbie Downer" hat and putting on my wine lover hat! I mean I spend enough time writing about my past, I might as well write about my wine director/sommelier past! So each week I'll highlight a wine. I'm not going to worry too much about price or varietal...to begin, just wines I like! So here goes!

Much to the surprise of those who know me, I'm starting with a white wine...

The 2009 'Gessami', from Gramona.

This wine is beautiful...very aromatic with low alcohol (11.5%), so no nose hair tickling! A true find for white wine lovers who aren't afraid of some depth and to maybe, god-forbid, cut the cord from the Chardonnay! From the Penedes region of northeast Spain...45 minutes from Barcelona along the Mediterranean coast, this region is best known for Cava (I'm certain a Cava will make it to the 'wine of the week' very soon) the Spanish sparkling wine, but also produces excellent white and red wines! Gramona is a well known Cava producer, steeped in history! The region of Penedes dates back to 1816.

Blend: 50% Muscat d'Alexandria, 20% Muscat Frontignan, 25% Sauvignon Blanc and 5% Gewurztraminer.

My take: Lucious is the word that first came to mind when I tasted this wine...and though this is a very summery wine to me~think grilled shrimp and cheese on the patio...I drank it for the first time during this arctic cold snap we're having, sitting on the sofa with no food...and I loved it!!

Notes: Apricot with some slate minerals. Bright acidity with a clean, forgiving finish. Beautiful golden color...looks great in the Reidel or the cheapie glasses from Ikea!

Price: (best part) $17.99! Awesome!

Happy Drinking!

Thursday

2011-01-20T15:59:00.000-06:00

Shoveling in pajama's...good day!

1997

2011-01-20T11:03:00.003-06:00

...due to my new virtual bff Jess I'm inspired to come clean with my food and body issues. Thanks J...you are honest and pure in your story telling...putting the pieces of your childhood together is never easy and you, my friend, are not alone.

I've always held myself to the theory of not being able to move completely forward unless I've dealt with my past. This formed by the total realization that my daily panic, depression, and anxiety had to have something to do with my past and the fact that it effected my life and the people in it was enough to push myself to put the puzzle together. This journey began in my early 20's when my panic attacks got so bad I thought they were mini heart attacks...and the fact that relationship after relationship was falling apart, mostly because I was falling for arrogant abusers. Nice. The concussion I received in 1992 from Brian was enough to make me leave him...but only move onto Stevie, who sexually abused me and spun me mentally into my sexually abused childhood, thanks asshole...after breaking off that relationship I met husband #1 (TB), who as I've written before was arrogant, abusive and dealing with his own abusive childhood and had no idea that hitting me hard when he was upset was a bad thing...super. You can only be choked and hit so many times before you think about and force yourself to imagine a life where no one is hurting you. I'm going to pull an "Oprah" and say that again; I had to force myself to imagine a life where no one was hurting me. I imagined this life for the first time in 1997...it was like a dream, a world that I couldn't imagine really existed. I left TB and took trip to San Francisco to visit a friend from high school. This friend and I had kept in touch years since high school and sadly, he would get my crying phone calls when I was lonely, panicking, drunk on the side of the road, hurt...he would listen from across the country and support me with kind words. There were times he kept me alive. Thank you EDL.

Stopping for now. More later.

70 years

2011-01-17T15:28:00.005-06:00

Next Sunday being a "divisional girl" will be tough. The Bears and Packers haven't played each other in the NFC champ game since 1941! Throughout the season I always cheer for our division...the Bears, Packers, Vikings and yes, the Lions. I always want them to do well, to go to NFC champ game and maybe Superbowl. Some years I'm happy; like 1997...and others I'm stuck watching my most hated teams go and god forbid win...like the Colts, the Cowboys, the Broncos, and the creme de le creme of hated teams, the Patriots...with "him" at QB. We now call him "he who must not be named". His "butt chin" does nothing for me and his hair that now curls up around his helmet freaks me out. I don't care that he's married to a super model or that he is, I guess, good...he bothers me. Anyway, watching the Patriots LOOSE yesterday brought me to well, tears. I know. But truly, to now not have to watch the AFC champ game or Superbowl with that knife I get in my stomach when I watch the Pats will be, well, magical. This year is really my year...On NFC side I got the win/win of either the Bears or Packers (Go Pack Go) going to Superbowl...I mean to now buy streamers in colors I love to decorate the house and dress up kids in one of my two top teams sweatshirts will be such a great day. And on the AFC side you've got the Steelers and Jets...two teams that I don't hate!!
You see, when I watch football I get "worked up", that what FC calls it. It took years of yelling, crying, neighbors calling and getting kicked out of bars to realize this. But it's true. I'm sick. When my teams loses or one of my hated teams win, I yell at the TV and scare the kids...then sometimes, I cry. But you see this year will be different...and my husband is SO happy. We have guests invited, menu planned, room re-configuration thought out, and just in case, a huge CHEESE tray ordered! I will hang streamers, fly flags, and put bunches of (green and yellow) balloons in appropriate places! Happy (crazy) Girl!!
So congratulations to the Bears and the Packers...Good luck in NFC champ game! Either way for me I'll be happy!! (Go Pack Go)
And to the Vikings...tough year; loss of coach, stadium, and Favre (happy retirement)...I still love you and I know with Leslie Frazer you'll be back on top soon. And you Lions, a 6-10 ending is nothing to feel bad about...way to go!
So happy Superbowl everyone! I make no predictions or wagers or promises (but we'll be eating cheese steaks, brats, and cheese curds)....I'm just going to enjoy the day! We will be with friends and watching what I'm sure will be a great game!

Baker Girl

2011-01-15T15:28:00.002-06:00

I LOVE having neighbors who can bake! And the ones who knock on the door at 9pm with loaves of bread fresh smack out of the oven are real keepers! Thank you LBC!!! The bread has kept my calorie count up today...as you can see I've moved on from just butter and jelly, to add peanut butter...ah yeah.
Oh, and the cookies are good too! I'm proposing a "Brennan/Clary/Plax Bake Off"!! (That's right Plax, let's go, it's on)

Sweet Boy

2011-01-14T18:37:00.002-06:00

So. Well. As you can see, I still have "Lola"...HE doesn't call himself that anymore, it's just a name that he once used as his "alter-ego". I thank god everyday for private-uniform-wearing-school...because the morning routine would get a lot longer if I had to make him change his clothes 5 times. For me, I don't even notice anymore...today it was the wide hot pink ribbon tied around his wrist as a bracelet...and small pink hair bow, perfectly placed in the bangs...no big deal. Most everyone (parents and teachers) at school find him charming...but I have gotten the ever so special "oh he'll grow out of it". Fine. But last week he got laughed at. My kid. My sweet little boy, who is funny and kind and tears up when you look at him cross got laughed at. Some boys in his class laughed at him when he was playing dress-up with the girls. He wears an old dress of mine at home (picture)...most times held up with a carefully placed headband around his waist...and a matching "pashmina" around his neck...what can I say, the kids got taste.
I have to quietly ask for the "girl toy" at McDonald's because he wants the "Hello Kitty" vs. the "Bakuagn" one. Which, by the way, do we need those labels?? I mean really, "girl toys" and "boy toys"??

Anyway, here's my question...sans being totally inappropriate, how do we not hurt their individuality and confidence and yet protect them from being laughed at? I'm the type of parent who would never say, "don't wear that, people will laugh at you"...when I asked him if he was upset about the boys laughing he said no...and when he was asked by the kind and VERY intelligent McDonald's employee why he would want a "girl toy" (P.S. Don't talk to my kid!), he responded "I am who I am"...love that kid. I recently got a wonderful compliment from a friend/fellow mother I highly respect...she said when her son was young he tried to wear crazy things and she'd fight him, yell, and spend hours trying to get out the door begging him to change clothes. She admitted she wishes she could do it differently and that she really respects they way I handle my little cross dresser. But truly, I am interested in how other parents handle these kinds of things...not that you all have dress wearing boys, but we all have this question before of, yes? Teaching them to be individuals, to not do things just because their friends do, and to not care so much what other people think...to be creative and unique. I will just not be able to stand it if my little guy gets laughed at...he's so sweet and he ALWAYS lets me borrow his lip gloss!

Bulls Game

2011-01-12T16:45:00.004-06:00

Sometimes the upside of FC's job is he get tickets for sporting events dropped in his lap! So the other day he called at 3pm and said he had been given 2 tickets for the Bulls game for that night...wasn't sure where the seats were but thought it would be worth trying to figure out a babysitter and take the 9 year old. Well, sitter didn't work, so FC who had dinner plans with a friend from out of town, ended up bringing the 4 year old with him so I could take 9 year old...SO nice!! Anyway, the tickets came with a parking pass so we drove and got there just in time...I actually pulled into the wrong parking lot and handed my accidentally ripped pass to the guy and he was nice to enough to let me stay...turns out it was the lot right next to where the players park...I came within a foot of hitting Joakim Noah's car on the way out, with him behind the wheel...that would have been great "hey Noah, I like your hair...sorry I hit your black sedan...".
Anyway, the kid was so excited...we showed our tickets and were taken up a side stairwell to the first level of "suites"...nice. The owner of a seafood company FC uses was in there with his wife, kid and kids friends and one other couple...they were super nice and promptly showed us where to hang our coats and introduced us to the private chef...the kid loved the private bathroom and figured out quickly where to help himself to all the soda and lemonade he wanted...too bad we'd eaten before we came because there was tons of food, but not to worry, soon after we arrived the "dessert trolley" came...with everything you could have wanted and the kid enjoyed directing the dessert chef how to exactly make his ice cream sundae! Then later the "coffee cart" came by and he had a hot chocolate...he hopefully will not think all games we go to will be like this! I was happy for the luxury, but mostly for the excellent behavior the kid displayed and for his immediate acknowledgment of how amazing this was and how lucky we were and how we needed to thank our hosts and then follow up with a note! Cute. I love surprising him with these special events and don't feel bad at all staying up late and eating junk...totally worth it!

Max

2011-01-12T16:37:00.003-06:00

Max is clearly settling into living with us...feeling comfortable and making himself at home! Thank goodness our bedroom is huge...he has twin sized futon, 3 pillows, baby "Moses" basket and full-sized down comforter...but then, of course he spends most of his time on our bed!

New Year

2011-01-12T16:03:00.005-06:00

As soon as the new year clock starts rolling I am daunted with things to do...things I've put off, putting Christmas away...8 bins later...and planning my yearly wedding fair I host at the church every year. When we moved into the new house we'd moved from a house with a basement...well, this house has no storage, no linen closet, no kitchen pantry, no cellar, NOTHING! Houses built in 1872 clearly had big furniture with drawers where people kept all their things...well in year 2011...I'm thanking god I found that cute while Pottery Barn cabinet in the alley and it's now holding all my linen...and very happy in the divorce from husband #1 I kept this cutie cabinet that now holds all the things that would normally go into a medicine cabinet or hall closet...cause really why would I throw away those old bottles of half used lotion or expired medicine? Away, you know how projects are like dominoes? Well, what started as putting Christmas away turned into us calling our contractor and planning the demolition of part of our kitchen and building a full sized bath! Mostly because I'm starting to think it's weird that I try and justify peeing in a cup instead of running to the only bathroom on the 3rd floor! *I don't by the way! The demolition will cause me to lose 4 cupboards and 2 very important junk drawers...so that meant me moving everything in the kitchen around, organizing things that got thrown in cupboards when we first moved in and getting rid of the mound of "storage" (8 Christmas bins, 2 boxes of crap, 2 boxes of old baseball cards my husband refuses to throw away, 1 bin of clothes my 4 year old will wear someday, 2 cases wine to save, dog crate, 1 box of party supplies, 2 huge ice buckets, 2 coolers, 1 box of camping supplies we've used once, FC's knife and tool collection, Kitchen Aid and some other random crap)...Well, two days of repacking, reorganizing and throwing away and now we have an "art studio"! So now the kids can make art without ruining my dining room table! Plus, it's nice to have coffee in the kitchen and not feel like you're in a basement!

Bad Mood

2010-12-20T19:51:00.002-06:00

It has been brought to my attention today that maybe I'm being a bit of a "Bitter Betty"...thank you good friends, you're right. Don't get me wrong, I'm deep in the holiday spirit...tree's up, music is playing, fire roaring, kids laughing, presents wrapped and ready to go...with one secret weapon in our back pocket! But today I was a "Negative Nancy"...facebooking and Tweeting my grievances. So, the question is am I really mad at men who can't get their wives coats (one of my nasty comments today) or the forever rearing head of this inconsequential person that I loath?? No. Sometimes it's not about what I'm yelling at or about...I usually have to dig a bit deeper. So, here goes...I'm worried about money, I'm sad my husband is working so much and missing Christmas activities, I'm still suffering from strep throat, I'm mad it's so cold in my kitchen, I'm sad my knee is still torn and I haven't run since the marathon, I AM mad at this loser chef in Lake Bluff who shows so much arrogance that I want to go pee in one of his restaurant chairs *(see earlier post), I'm angry with Brett Favre for ending his career so badly~shame on you. I'm mad that I was molested in the 4th & 5th grade and I'm forever tortured, I'm upset that I seem to get athletes foot every winter and it prevents me from getting pedicures, I'm angry that groups of people fight for the treatment of animals and harm chefs homes (not ours, though my husband has been threatened) meanwhile children go hungry, I'm mostly upset that I don't feel connected to my best friend and husband...that he is struggling so much with his job that he is not seeing the "big picture"~which is that we are together and our kids are happy and healthy (knock on wood), we have a beautiful home, that yes, needs work, but we love it, the cupboards are full of food~I'm not stealing food to feed my kids anymore, and the bills are paid. There are no "extras", but we are together and happy...rich in love, so to speak. But I feel forgotten, not loved, not attractive, not sexual, not connected. So, I'm acting out like a child who can't tell you what they're really upset with and having a tantrum...I'm picking on people and things that I can't see, but make easy targets. I have talked to my husband and tried to repair things with our little family...time together will tell.
Thank you to my friends who saw this happening today and stopped me...love you guys. I love a friend who knows I need you before I do!

...hey chef, how 'bout some cheese with that whine??

2010-12-17T23:43:00.002-06:00

Nothing is more annoying to me than chefs who whine. And please don't worry, I'm not talking about my husband...he would NEVER do what this bonehead I'm about to tell you about did...never.

I just read this blog written by a "chef", in the middle of Friday night service no less, who is bitching about how badly some guests behaved. Now unless a guest comes in to your restaurant and shits on your floor, nothing will surprise me so stop whining and grow up! People, especially guests out for dinner, will disappoint you...it's just a matter of time. I remember all the "pee chairs" at Trotters...yes, that's right...people pee in the chairs. You would think people would be more elegant and refined...but no, we had "pee chairs" and bathrooms filled with puke and people walk out without paying and people perform "crotch elbow"...I'll tell you about that another time. Anyway, my point is to this sweet, generous chef...clearly you've been on the north shore too long!

Below is his post from tonight where he goes one to tell his tale feeling abused by guests who, gasp, behaved badly while using their "carte blanche" gift certificate that HE donated to a charity event. You see, typically a chef or restaurant when donating something to a charity event will generously give dinner for 2 or 4, but there are, wisely, always some restrictions on the gift. Maybe it's "dinner for four at chef's table with bottle of wine valued at $75"...now that is a generous donation sand anyone who is going to bid on that at an auction will certainly understand what's NOT included...gratuity, coat check, valet, any OTHER wine they order, etc. Now let's say they come in and they're great folks, kind and excited to be there...every chef I've worked for will then send additional courses, maybe another bottle of wine, maybe a tour of the kitchen, maybe more. That's just the smart way to do it...you never know how people will try to take advantage and if they bought the gift certificate at an auction they could have low balled and just be out to get a "free meal". So when my "friend" on the north shore tells how he "hand writes" these magical (my word, not his) gift certificates that have NO restrictions, no black out dates...that cover absolutely everything; complete dinner for 4, all and ANY wine from list, dessert, coffee, tax, gratuity, coat, check, valet, etc. I actually surprised he didn't send money home for the babysitter! Anyway, not that you can tell from his post, since he gives no example of how they acted or "rude" things they said besides a comment about one of the wine, but he was disappointed with their behavior and nows feels as though they "came to have a good time on the house"....um, yeah, dumb shit that's exactly what they did, but that's exactly what you gave!! Now, I don't know this guy or have ever heard of his restaurant...though apparently he did a "stage" (when you work for free for small amount of time...you do a lot of herb plucking and floor sweeping) at Trotters during the time I was there...but to be honest a "stagier" at Trotters is a dime a dozen so I don't remember him. I have no patience for such bad business decisions...be smarter! Of course, be generous and give to charity, but do it wisely. Idiot.

http://inovasithought.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-cannot-believe-this-holy.html

Let me know your thoughts....RE, I would love to know what you think!

Cheers! Happy Saturday!!

Tonight

2010-11-29T23:33:00.004-06:00

Thinking about snow. Cold and crunchy. First snow comes and we run outside and slow dance in the light of the streetlamp. It's one of the greatest things about my husband. He woke me up once and we ran outside with no coats. There's nothing like being kissed in the snow. I'm listening to Damien Rice. So sad and sassy too. I love a guy who writes painful songs and sings them like he's feeling all the pain all over again. I'm warding out illness. Past two years of mono and the three before that I had pneumonia each year. It will not happen this year. I won't let it. Listening to train. It sounds like thunder. I'm watching the clock. Thinking about my husband. He's not home. Yet. Thinking about Christmas. What to get the kids. What to cook. What to wear. How to talk myself from the panic attack. Bolted off exam table last week. Internal vaginal ultrasound. For me there was something about being in a small darkened room, laying on table with my legs open. It was enough to shake me. Husband coming to next appointment. Got that call back, like an audition, the day before before Thanksgiving, which has always been a shitty day to begin with. "Sarah, we'll be looking for cancer...we have good reason." Great. Look for it. Look really hard. It was like I'd passed through the first round and now it was on to Hollywood! But no Randy Jackson. It will be a biopsy and a colposcopy. Whoop Whoop!! One part uncomfortable "snipping", mixed with opening of the cervix. Bring it. Results should be in just in time to go in my Christmas stocking. Listening to dog sleep. Still Listening to Damien. Love it. I want a cold glass of champagne. Had one today at lunch and I fell in love, like every time. My love affair with champagne is ongoing and very true. I want it again. Every year for Christmas I tell my husband what I want: to walk in the falling snow with him while drinking coffee and a black sweater. He's good at gift giving. When we've had no money I'm always amazed at how creative and romantic his gifts are...warm fuzzy scarf, vintage linen, poetry book. First Christmas I got a Mason Pearson hairbrush. That is still at the top. Dog snoring now. I'm going to ignore the breasts I received as mothering parting gifts and take ballet. I don't care what I look like. I will close my eyes and see me small. I will feel the music and fall into a dream. I was reminded today that the comfortable silence between good friends can be the most welcoming of sounds. Being loved and understood in pure silence. What a gift. Anyone up for a dance tomorrow night? The snow will hopefully be calling.

3 Stars

2010-11-16T12:30:00.002-06:00

The Michelin Guide is here!! The Michelin Guide is here!! Wow, I can really fake the excitement! Yes, people who are saying "WTF?", a tire company rates restaurants! I know, weird. Here is a brief explanation:

"The Michelin Guide has been around since the early 1900s and started as a car and road trip guide. Andre and Edouard Michelin wanted to create a guide to the best restaurants and accommodations available along the travel route of motorists. The guide quickly became incredibly popular for its restaurant information as it highlighted the most exceptional chefs and eateries. It is now the oldest such publication and is now considered the most well-known and influential guide in the culinary world. Many anxiously await its yearly publication, whether culinary aficionados or industry insiders.
The Michelin Guide reviews and rates top restaurants and world chefs with a ratings system of one to three stars with the highest rated being three star chefs and restaurants. Many chefs strive to be listed as a Michelin three star chef as this gives them a high amount of exposure. A three star chef can experience a high level of fame and wealth that may not have been likely without the acknowledgement of the Michelin guide. Many star chefs strive to stay a Michelin star chef as they could lose business and their public name if they go on to lose stars. The Michelin star rating is the most recognized rating system in the culinary world for all of Western Europe."

You see, the Michelin Guide recently came to the US. I personally think they were wooed by restaurateurs and chefs who wanted it internationally known that the US could finally be on the same playing field with European chefs/restaurants. Funny though, since the chefs in the US who have the most stars are from Europe and had restaurants there first and came here following the money and the Food Network! Yes, now that the guide is out in a few cities there are American chefs with stars, famous guys like Thomas Keller and Grant Achatz. I feel though that the guide will never be here what it is in Europe. If you're a chef and you've worked your way through restaurants with stars to earn your chops, you're on the right path. But it's one of those things that before it catches on, if ever, no one besides "foodies" and industry people know about. I'm very happy and proud of many of my friends who received stars today and I so hope it affects their business...yes, that's right, I said the dirty word of "dining": business or oh my god, don't say it...SALES!!! You see, if you're drinking the "dining kool-aid" you don't think about sales or business...you simply believe in the food and the "experience". But then you realize, or like me, have a baby and understand it's more than the suffering for your art...it's a way to make a living, and buy you a house, and send kids to private school, and there's actually an art to running a successful restaurant and not just some trendy place that will shut down in 5 years...that there can be growth and a ladder and....OK, OK slow down there sista. Hold on a minute while a climb down off the soap box. Phew, ok, I'm done. Sorry.

Anyway, I encourage people to check out the Michelin Guide...to for sure check out the section called "Bib Gourmand"...those are restaurants that rate well and have good value! Good for "real" people! Word of mouth is a great guide for me, and I've always likes Zagat...I hate Yelp. The other great thing about the restaurant biz is that there's always so much drama, that in 3 days no one will remember the headlines today! And, since my husband works at one of the two restaurants that received 3 stars today, which for me translates into me being single parent for the foreseeable future, feel free to come by and take my kids to the movies!

Babbette

2010-11-10T23:24:00.003-06:00

I was remembering today some of the funny little jobs I had when I was in my early 20's. For a holiday season I needed money and took a job at the Fours Seasons Hotel checking coats. Right off the main lobby, towards the bar and the tea room there is a small coat check. It was a simple enough job: take coats, hang coats, give coats back...giving the right coat back was key to this job. You'd get lots of Burberry trench's, and really heavy furs...super cute kids coats, when they'd come in for tea with mom and grandma at Christmas. The furs were big and well....furry. They smelled like perfume and I would try and educated myself on which fur was which. Black mink or fox? What were the brown ones? Muskrat? No. Like I said, simple....hang, put number on, give back. Oh, and be sure to smile...elegant and dignified for the older people, super fun and nice to families, flirty with the single men in groups, not so flirty with men who were alone (they get the wrong idea), and quick and efficient with younger married couples...trying to not catch the eye of the husband for too long. Man, it was tough being pretty! Ha! But really, who cares what the women think, it's the men who do the tipping! Anyway, during slow times there was a notebook. It was a college ruled spiral notebook....kept on the shelf under the box of tickets for coats. The cover was bare, but inside was the funniest, dirtiest, most provocative story I, at the time, had ever read. It was about "Babbette"...I know, silly and cliche. Anyway, one of the other girls had started it and left it for all of the others to read. You see, the shift times were such that you never saw the others that worked the room...just passed in the night, or day really. We'd leave notes behind telling the girl who worked on, let's say last Friday, to clean up better and please make sure the hangers were all hung the same way or to do a better job organizing the tickets and not to leave all the left over umbrellas under the chair...*Note: If you bring an umbrella to a coat check have them put a separate ticket on it or hang it on your coat hanger! So many umbrellas are left behind and forgotten by the dumb coat check girl to give back to you! Anyway, back to "Babbette"...one girl started it and each day you worked you'd add a bit to it. It had started with Babbette, of course, working as a (don't fall off you chair with surprise) coat check girl...but let's just say she gave more than coats to people! Babbette was a total slut. She would flirt with men and then bring them into the coat room and have sex with them on the furs. Now hold on minute, we were bored! Don't judge. Have you seen the inside of a coat room? It's small and there's nothing to do...this was long before iphones. Come to think about it, I could have brought a book (a real book), but the thought never crossed my mind...it was much more fun writing and reading about Babbette! I always tried to add some personality to her...a joke maybe or some tender moment, but then what I wrote would be undone with some act of sluttery! I thought she should have some soul, some higher purpose...not just some tramp with stockings on, bend over some coat rack. But inevitably, one of the others would take her back down to the mud...oh well I tried.
All in all it was a good job...helped me pay rent that Christmas. If you're ever downtown I highly recommend using the washrooms at the Four Season, much better than the public bathrooms at Water Tower...you walk right by the coat check room...check it out and think of me!
Closing thoughts...again, hang umbrella on coat hanger or have them give you ticket...do not just let them take it and say they'll remember to give it to you, cause they won't. Next, always tip...$1 per coat, more if heavy suitcases/briefcases. Oh and men, this one is key so pay attention...when the coat check girl hands you the ladies coat first before she gives you yours (and if she's good, she will) DO NOT say "oh, a duh, that's hers" or hand it to your wife/girlfriend...They are handing it to you first so you can help her put it on! Moron! God, that always pissed me off! Men can be so dumb. And it was always funny, cause they'd look at you like YOU were nuts for handing them what is clearly a women's coat...well, jokes on you idiot, you've already tipped and I'm going to call you out and educate you on the finer points of being a gentleman!
And finally, if your coat check girl is "in back" taking her sweet time...and if you wore a fur, make sure she was alone back there before you put it on! Gross.

Silent Night

2010-11-06T18:43:00.004-05:00

Thank you to LBC, who today reminded me...

...to live simply, love generously, care deeply, and speak kindly.

Easy to forget. It's like that feeling of standing in church on Christmas Eve singing Silent Night...I can't help but quietly cry and feel so grateful for all the wonderful things in my life and silly for all the things that have bothered me...I want that feeling all year long. Especially now.

Max

2010-10-29T16:48:00.002-05:00

Best dog ever! Sweet, kind, lovable...potty trained from minute we brought him home, great with kids. I never thought I'd love a small dog, having always hated anything smaller than a lab...but I do. I'm not ashamed to say, I love him bad. He follows me around, but not in a bad way...will sleep next to me on the floor all night and never cry or whine to go out...barks only for a minute when strangers come to door...loves the neighbors, too much actually...doesn't beg obnoxiously or jump or overly lick...just a perfect dog. He doesn't however eat the bacon pieces that the kids drop and he is afraid of fires...bacon and fires; two staples in our home...but I love him so much it doesn't bother me.

...a walk in the city

2010-10-16T18:39:00.004-05:00

So last Sunday, 10-10-10, I decided to take a walk...actually I ran for 11 miles and walked for 15. The 11 was great...I felt ready for my walk, the cortisone that I'd had injected in my hip had soaked in and I was feeling no pain, and I had my best girl by my side. We ran and laughed and people smiled and waved and called out supporting words. I ran into my family and good friends along the way...it was wonderful! Then the pain of tendinitis set in and walking took over. I kept thinking, 'if I could just keep going, I'll finish'...I did actually. They say crossing that finish line will change your life...I can say honestly that it did. The whole time I was walking and then the hobbling took over...then came the crying...the race officials hoping to change my mind about finishing...the heat...anyway, the whole time I was doing these things I kept thinking about next year. There is nothing like seeing the city from that perspective, or seeing the amazing spectators...the people outside their houses with water, ice, hoses...the people who were still out there when I was in the 20's cheering me on, the total strangers who didn't look away as I cried, but who yelled at me to keep going...thank you. Thank you to my girlfriends who gave me cards and flowers of encouragement. Thank you to Colleen, who gave me her constant love and support...and some sparkling wine! Thanks to Andy and Chelsea for coming out and cheering; you guys are the best! Thank you to my dear friend Laura who waited and waited for me at the finish...seeing her made me cry and feel so so loved. Thank you to Krystin for coming to town to do something people would have never thought we'd do...and who was and is my complete and trusted friend...I love you. Thank you to Lynn...who is my marathon idol...who encouraged me, loved me, listened to me, laugh with me and at me, and who never once let me think I couldn't do it...you above all others has been the rock I've needed. And mostly thank you to my amazing, beautiful, supportive is not a big enough word, husband...you tolerated the 18 weeks, rubbed my legs, worried about me when I was unable to walk, told me I could do it, took care of the kids while I ran, listened to my constant talk about running, other runners, marathons, shoes, shorts, GU, what food I should eat, how many miles I had to run, who runs faster and why, wiped my tears, and never once made fun of me or made me feel silly for wanting to do this...Thank you for waiting forever at mile 23 and walking with me, running ahead and getting me ice, for not talking or asking me if I wanted to stop...you just walked next to me for 3.2 miles...I always knew you were right there by my side. Thank you for raising my arms up as we crossed the finish line and getting choked up when you told me how proud you were of me...you are the love of my life and no accomplishment means anything without you.
So all in all it was a good day...running 11 and walking 15 miles through my favorite city...even in horrific pain I loved every minute of it...and I can't wait until next year!

Change

2010-10-03T08:41:00.003-05:00

Talking to your kids about a job change is never easy. At first, it seems like they're not listening...you tell them casually over dinner and they seem more interested in their pasta and fighting over who ate the last piece of bread. Funny though the next morning, the now 9 year old is filled with questions..."why are you moving over to that restaurant?" "when do you start?" "what was your job title when you worked there before and what will it be now?" (start kid) and the question that made me sigh, "what days will you be home?" Change is tough sometimes, but my kids (mostly older one) has seen much of it. But since I have the greatest husband ever, who always put his family first, my kids won't feel the stress...it will be left at the door, and by telling them what days he'll be home he's made sure they feel confident that even with the long weeks to come they will see him and have him very involved in their lives. I knew this was coming...I've known for a while. But like anything else, you can prepare and prepare, but then you're still caught off guard and sick to your stomach when it finally happens. I feel like we're jumping back on the roller coaster...I know I'll look back on the past 2 years and feel like they were a vacation...but oh the things to come!

A.S.

2010-09-21T07:19:00.003-05:00

Happy birthday to Amy today. Her birthday did not die with her...each year since she left I remember her on this day. I still miss her and wish today of all days I could call her, walk down the street shopping and getting coffee, tell her 'happy birthday' and give her her present, something old and chipped...
Suicide is cruel. And yes, don't get me wrong, there's a part of me that wants to scream at her...but the other part, the bigger part, just wants her (selfishly) back...back in my life...back to love me and be my best friend again...to fill the hole she left and love me.
But, since that can't happen, I will simply say 'Happy birthday'...and later have a little toast...and remember how lucky I was once to have such an amazing friend...

thank you my friends...

2010-09-02T22:11:00.004-05:00

I'm pulling up carpet. I'm pulling up carpet...but I'm also crying and shaking, I'm fighting off panic attacks...because I'm remembering how my father would leave me for hours and hours alone; alone at home, alone in cars sometimes freezing cars, alone with strangers, at their houses when I was small and had no idea who they were, where I was, and I would feel my heart race in fear of where I was and what was happening. I'm fighting off the anger of never having the father I wanted...the embarrassment, the self-loathing, the hate; pure and vivid hate for the man he was and couldn't be...and for leaving me to spend the rest of my life envious of other women with fathers they love and who were treated well...leaving me to hope that one day I'd wake up and it would have all been a bad dream and I could look back on not a perfect white picket fence childhood, but a childhood not filled with lies, drugs, yelling, fighting, rape, feelings of insecure hopelessness and hatred...and an adulthood that isn't constantly followed by his atrocities. How I wish I could have one, just one conversation with some one from my childhood and have them not tell tell me some horrible thing he did to them, to innocent people...to those people he, my "father" is their monster the one who give them panic attacks and nightmares...Would I have been molested by my teacher if I'd had a father, a real loving, caring, very involved father?...not sure, but I'm pretty sure the answer is no...so, I don't care that he had heart attack, or if he dies...he died long ago to me...but oh my god how broken and damaged I feel after one email from him...how quickly he brings me to the scared broken little child...I'm shaking, not eating, not running, not able to feel or be normal, I'm not sleeping because when I close my eyes all I see is people hurting me...and this feeling carries over to how I am right now in my life...shitty mother, crappy wife, bad friend...no one really loves me, or cares, or wants to be with me more than they want to be with anyone else...if I could I would get in bed and stay there...but I'm ripping up carpet.

~This was an email I sent in reply to my friend asking me how I am doing. Looking back at it I realize it was a bit much..."fine" may have been better, but it would have been a lie. I'm grateful to my close friends who know I'm having a rough time right now and who are taking the time to reach out and let me know they care...so yes, maybe in that moment of the email I felt alone and that no one loved me, but the love shown to me by those who know me best is what's keeping me going right now. Thank you...

Own vs. Rent

2010-09-02T09:41:00.002-05:00

The picture says it all...being home owner means you can't call your landlord and have him come fix your sink! We used to have a landlord who praised himself as quite the plumber..."I was a plumber for 20 years in New York...before you guys were born"...he did everything a bit on the cheap and things ended up being a bit off, if they worked at all, but funny now that I would love if he were here to fix my sink!

it doesn't end...

2010-08-30T13:47:00.002-05:00

I had dinner with a friend the other night. Our mother's had been best friends since childhood and we've known each other since we were babies. We had a great dinner and caught up on our lives, husbands, kids, works, girl stuff...
Of course the night would not have been complete without her telling me how my "father" tried to molest her little brother when he was in high school. How lovely. When will it end? Will it? Is it possible to see someone from my childhood and have them NOT tell me my "father" did something inappropriate? I'm fairly certain it will never happen. I can go back in my head and everyone, everyone, that we were friends with...got a taste of being "hit on" by him. Young teenage men, sons of my parents friends that were forever changed...you're changed when an older person, someone you trusted, defies your trust...uses you...lies to you...acts inappropriately...touches you sexually. Never the same. He seduced them. Made them trust him, listened to them, allowed them to think they were friends...and then took all that away...with his lies and his inability to control himself.
So no, I'm not feeling bad that he had a minor heart attack the other day...if that makes me a bad person, so be it. It doesn't compare with the pain, heartache and ruined lives he's left in his path. I have him in this neat little box, and then he fucking emails me, first time in years, and I instantly have panic attack...the thoughts the nightmares come, uncontrollably. So yes, when will it end?

I'm A Chef's Wife...Boo Hoo

2010-08-26T17:29:00.003-05:00

I know, RE, I should be more supportive of young chef's wives who are struggling with having their husbands working as chefs...the hours, the egos, the hours, the young women chef-stalkers, the hours, the going to events alone, spending holidays alone, raising kids alone...but I have to say, I'm f@&%ing sick of it. I know I should just look away and be happy I've made it through the learning phase and can handle the tough times better, but I can't. Shit or get off the pot. No one is putting a gun to your head making you marry these men. PLUS half of these women who are married to chef's and whining, were once stalking these guys and probably a few before them. There was once something so romantic, something so inspiring...so hot, about these guys. Maybe it's the coat, or the passion, the creativity...the ego, but those girls were hungry. They set out and captured those young cooks, supported them, lived and breathed the life, the food, the dining experiences. They were OK with the hours, made the dinners at 3am, sat up waiting, listening attentively to the number of covers, the fires, the VIPs, the sous-chefs who they know more than, the restaurants they could run better. These girls were more into the life-style than their chefs, but now that a few years and a white dress has gone by they are wondering when these cooks are coming home. They are not as interested in the stories or the numbers or the fancy food terms that once made them wet. They now notice the dirty finger nails, the dark circles under the eyes, and the incredibly white skin from never leaving the kitchen. They now realize the romance of the 3am dinner doesn't compare to a normal evening dinner that's not followed by their chef totally falling asleep. And speaking of sleep, it's not cute anymore to have they fall asleep at the movies, or at their friends houses, or at the symphony that they spent a ton of cash on and waited months and months to go to. They wake up one beautiful Saturday morning and realize their chef will sleep until noon, then stumble to work, not to be seen again until after midnight...they will watch him sleep, then get angry that they're not waking up early to spend time with them, and then right before their chef has to leave for the day they will pick a fight...which of course will go nowhere and then they will spend the rest of the day and night alone, all the while knowing other couples are spending that time together and that's when it hits them; if their husband had a different job they would be happier. That day must suck. Now I said "must" because I've never thought that. I did all those things, got right up to that point (fights included), but never had that thought. Instead I bucked up, knew that one day, after his hard work he would be the boss and the hours would get better, and after having babies he would see our beautiful family as his top priority and we would work hard together as team. I also never thought that dining was some sort of spiritual event or that deep at the heart of it it was anything else than just dinner. I don't iron chefs coats, I'm not a "foodie" (HATE that term), I don't know each and every detail of his restaurant, or think that my husband can do no wrong...and oh my f@%*ing god, he's my HUSBAND NOT "my chef"!! If I've had a bad day with the kids he listens and sometimes, god-forbid, we don't even talk about his job. And I do something very important these other women don't; I keep in mind that it's HIS job/career, not mine. Now I love food and wine, having been in the business myself, but my love is my love and his career is his. If I gave up all that I love for what he loves, what am I left with when he doesn't have time to share every little detail with me? Nothing that's what. Nothing.
So wives married to chef's; suck it up and make your own life. Woman who are out to date/marry a cook because they are caught up in the hot man in a coat and the romance; fine...BUT don't bitch later...know now it's a hard life and please have your own interests. And, chef stalkers who go after married chefs; sleep with one eye open...whore.

...but it doesn't matter.

2010-08-26T12:46:00.007-05:00

You learn this friendly little mantra while training for marathons..."but it doesn't matter". It's the answer or rebuttal to all that ails you. Your legs are tired? But it doesn't matter. You're hungover? It doesn't matter. You get a cramp...doesn't matter. You hate the song that comes on while you're running, and can't reach in pocket to change it...doesn't matter. Sometimes while I'm running I think I want to stop and then I think it doesn't matter that I want to stop...I think keep going Stupid!
I've realized while training for my first marathon that it's kind of like being pregnant with your first baby...and people are touching your belly and giving you advice. They mean well and they're sharing their vast knowledge, but still you sometimes want to be your own head and body...feeling your own pain and learning each day what you can and can't do. I like to make my mistakes and take my own time to learn how to fix them. When I was pregnant with my first child I didn't join a pregnant moms group or a play group after he was born...I hated, hated the idea of sitting around listening to other women talking about naps, and poops and what food little Johnny is eating and then having those women give me their advice when I tell them Henry was refusing the morning nap. I went to a moms group once when Henry was 8 months and it was exactly that...the whining and comparing and "helping", which translates whenever you're with women into passive aggressive competition. So, like having a baby, I will take the belly stroking and advice and then do it my own way.
So now I'm in the last "trimester"...the baby is due October 10...and it doesn't matter that I'm tired, have the worst allergies, can't seem to break through to the next level of running, or that I feel so sick in the early morning that I can't run without getting sick, that my husband promises he'll be home by 7pm so I can run but then doesn't come home until 9pm, that a 50 pound iron fireplace grate fell on my foot and I have bone spur, or that sometimes I drink too much at night and can't get up in the morning, or that I keep forgetting to change the music on my ipod and music I'm sick of keeps coming on, or that I feel insecure and awkward on the running path looking at other beautiful runners, or it's storming during your long run and that's the only window you have to go all weekend, or any other reason that comes up. It just doesn't matter. You just keep running...like having a baby, you can't stop it...you just keep going no matter how painful or awful it feels.

*The picture is me 6 months pregnant with my second child...who BTW was born 3 weeks early and weighed 9.2 pounds!!

Chores For Boys

2010-08-24T18:55:00.003-05:00

In the past few weeks the question of chores and allowances has come up with other parents and some friends...when things happen in 3's I jump to attention! So here's what we do...When Henry was little I thought I'd have a long time to figure this out...I thought by the time he got an allowance he'd be buying skateboards and sneaking Playboy...but when he was about 5 I got very tired of him thinking that every time we went to a store it was an opportunity for him to add to his collection of crap. You buy a kid some gum one time or something small when you feel like it and suddenly every time you're at a store they think you're going to throw down and buy them something. My kids, if given the opportunity could, I know, take this to whole new level...with any store offering something they for sure can't live without...not just Target, but gas stations, dollar stores, Jiffy Lube...crazy, but something will always look appealing to kids! I was also tired of explaining that we couldn't afford to run out on a whim and buy wii games, DS games and anything else that cost more than $20...it seems like Christmas and birthdays just don't come around enough. So here's what I did...I gave Henry a list of chores to do each week and if completed he would get money (allowance) put on a gift card. I explained that this was HIS money...he could spend it the day he got it or he could figure out the best way to maximize it. Now they say you should talk honestly to your kids about money when they choose the dollar bill over the two shiny coins. Henry figured this out quickly and after a few months of blowing his money faster than I could give it to him, on total crap by the way, he was soon looking at the higher ticket items and using his math to figure out how many months he would have to save up to get his own DS or ipod. So to me, this idea of mine had many benefits; it has taught him about money...saving it vs. spending it and how it sucks to buy something cheap and have it break...he's so great now when something breaks at home, he doesn't just say "well, let's buy a new one", he knows now that things cost real money and money has to be earned. It's also great because he's doing chores and helping around the house...I know a lot of families with kids my kids age who have no chores, or responsibilities at all for that matter...there's even one who think the families maid is there simply for him! Kids can do quite a bit around the house and if you show them and let them make a mess the first time or maybe not do perfectly the way you would do it, then this makes them feel good and they feel like they're contributing. I'm just a firm believer in kids not feeling like the work will magically get done without them pitching in! Henry has done a great job saving his money and has become quite savvy...like he knows now to shop around, to rent a wii game before you buy it...he knows how to add shows and movies on his ipod Touch using the itunes account that I make him pay for...he also now knows if he sells his ipod and DS on Craigslist he will use that money, along with his allowance, to buy his ipad...

Anyway, the whole thing has worked out. After taking the summer off, my kids tonight were begging for their new chore list so they can start saving their money...Henry, again, for his ipad and Harry for princess shoes and makeup...I have very different children!

So I thought I would include the new list...

Chores:

Henry: $20/month to be put on gift card

~Keep room clean (each day)
~Make bed (each day)
~Bring down laundry from parents room (Saturdays)
~Collect trash with trash bag from bar, bathroom, boys room (Saturdays)
~Vacuum 1st floor stairs (Saturdays)
~Put clean clothes away (whenever I leave it on your bed)
*After school each day empty lunch box, hang up both lunch box and backpack (school days)
*Do homework (each day)
*Get very good grades
*Bonus to be given by having perfect report card in one or any marking period

Harrison: $10/month to be put on gift card

~Keep room clean (each day)
~Make bed (each day)
~Put clean clothes away (when it’s on your bed)
~Vacuum 2nd floor stairs (Saturdays)
~Bring laundry down from boys room (Saturdays)
~Organize shoes in foyer (Saturday)
*After school empty lunch box, hang up lunch box and backpack (school days)

Brett

2010-08-17T17:59:00.002-05:00

Listen to me....HE NEVER SAID HE WAS RETIRING!! IT WAS A RUMOR. HE HAS CONTRACT. HE ISN'T PULLING ANYONE'S CHAIN...SHUT UP AND FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO BITCH ABOUT!!!! He showed up at camp today...after staying home to see doc about ankle...because, yes he's old...big deal. I hate the haters!! My husband is right; I should NEVER be allowed to watch a game in a bar!
I swear the whole "Brett thing" gets more attention than Michael Vick owning and participating in dog fighting ever got!! So, yes I'm hoping no press conference happens and tomorrow we spend all day watching him on the practice field!

And as long as I'm on the topic of football...I will say it again...I AM a Bears fan. I'm also a crazy lover of the game and I wait all spring and summer for this. I start to feel my heart race when there's that first mention of camp and there's a chill in the air. I watch every game my cable provider will allow me to watch and I'm loyal to the teams I love and I'm a loyal hater of the teams I hate...that I admit sometimes I have no legitimate reason to hate. Like I hate, HATE, the Broncos. I hated John Elway, with no good reason. So yes, I understand if Brett isn't you favorite quarterback or you hate him for no reason, but I still think he's an amazing player, who has a love for the game seldom seen, that goes way beyond ego and money. He just happens to have never played for the teams where I've lived...but being a lover of my division, loving my mid-west teams with a long history and tradition...I have crazy love and respect for that guy!

So let's stop worrying about Brett, let him show up for camp like any other quarterback, and let's have a great season!!

Great Weekend!

2010-08-16T18:49:00.002-05:00

The joy on his little face says it all! We went away this past weekend to a lake in northern Michigan...(I'm not going to tell you which one, because my new life goal is to own house there, and I don't want it overrun!)...anyway, we had the best time! The most beautiful lake with better than Caribbean blue water...water that you could just walk into on the 100 yard sandbar, so safe so the kids were free and had a ball! Boating, tubing, jet skiing...a margarita brought RIGHT to me as I floated on water chair...and coffee brought to me the next morning as my husband and I did our favorite thing~get up early, before kids and go for a quiet morning swim. We boated over to small town to dock and walked to get ice cream...are you kidding me? Campfires, stars, little towns with spices and antiques...this place was made for me! How awesome is that?! Plus, I didn't yell at my kids for 3 days! A record for sure! And there was not one issue with their friends we were with...and let me tell you, as a parent, that's golden! I mean not one issue...I actually feel like I didn't really even see them while we were there...or at least their nasty sides!
So amazing...Thank you thank you to our wonderful friends who clearly really like us!! We are lucky to have you!!!!

Alter Ego

2010-08-12T09:40:00.003-05:00

This is "Lola". She's kind and funny and loves to play games...she has wonderful sense of style...daring and playful!
She doesn't throw tantrums (like someone else I know)...she arrives on time and stays for tea. She doesn't wear panties...but ALWAYS a belt. Sometimes it's the red dress and sometimes the sweater vest acts as a tube top...hot.
I'm always happy to see Lola, but I'm happy when Harrison comes back!

Get Out The Map

2010-08-11T18:45:00.003-05:00

What do you do with partial 14 foot wall with floor to ceiling mirrors?? Cover them with maps of France...plus then, feeling crazy handy, while husband out of town on "research" trip a.k.a. eating his way through San Francisco, I painted floor deep dark ocean blue...beginning what will be the "map room"...with puffy leather club chairs and antique persian rug. Weird, but it makes me feel more at home.

Project #1

2010-08-03T07:11:00.002-05:00

This blog could quickly go from "I-was-molested-as-child-and-here's-how-f'd-up-I-am"...to a DIY home improvement blog in one rip of some carpeting!!
Project #1 was to rip up the carpet on the second floor and discover what's underneath. And since clearly my husband has "Home Improvement ADD" (sad really, who knew?)...I am left alone to now figure out what to do with the half hardwood/half ply-wood floor. I'm feeling the "band-aid" remedy is to finish pulling, trim away and nails and pokey things, paint it, and do a sort of "shabby chic" thing with some cute rugs. I've got two awesome leather club chairs coming, so that's a start. Sucks to move into huge house and have NO furniture! But I'm looking forward to simply having the space; for the kids to play, or just sit and enjoy the beautiful light that comes in that room...and maybe if we're lucky to have my piano playing friend (LBC) come play the baby grand the previous owners left behind! The estimate for a total new floor was $2500 and with having to buy completely new furnace, the new floor is NOT happening this year. So I'm watching DIY shows and looking at blogs trying to figure out what the heck I'm doing...it's actually pretty fun, now that it's my house I'm putting time into!
Now if I were smart, before I paint the floor I would take down the track lighting and the floor to ceiling mirrors!! But you never know, maybe in lieu of furniture we'll put in a pole and call it a day!!

Beach

2010-08-02T21:07:00.003-05:00

Happy girl!

Lunch

2010-08-02T20:43:00.002-05:00

Franks 'N' Dawgs!!
So good and within walking distance...not a good thing! I loved the service...which was really only the distinguished Aussie taking your order...he looked like he should be wearing a suit and be taking my order at a 4-star restaurant and not asking if I want fries with my dog! But no matter, I loved him! You pick your favorite celebrity from their wall and that marks your table so they know where to bring your order...love it! I chose Audrey Hepburn.
The kids good plain hot dogs, of course and one loved the home-made, buttered and grilled bread and one didn't. Mine was a version of a typical "Chicago style" hot dog with the upshot of grilled onions, and a homemade beer mustard...awesome. With my love of mustard's, I feel I will soon be introducing this one to the other 8 jars in my fridge very soon.
Watching how their kitchen worked was not unlike some "fancy" places I've worked...there was an "expediter"; someone on the other side of the hot line making sure every plate goes out looking its best and to the correct table...plus the cooks were all young, serious culinary students...who looked like Gordon Ramsey was in the dining room, ready to critique the dogs!
All in all fun lunch for all! Check it out...

Cutie Pies

2010-07-17T08:34:00.005-05:00

Today, from keep myself from going totally crazy or beginning a long crack binge, I will remember how cute my little guys were last weekend. We went to friends wedding...husbands friends, so I was stone cold sober...yeah, I was not at my best! We were told by groom "oh, bring the kids, there's kids table, lots of kids...blah blah"...Really? No, not really. The first hour my kids were only kids and we kept getting dirty looks from brides father..."get your smelling, ugly, sticky kids away from me" is what I think he was thinking. Anyway, my sweet husband took them down to beach and let them play, leaving me alone with 50 people that I didn't know, and again, NO alcohol!! But I did my best...chatting with 25 year old girls...I'm sure they were thinking how cool I was, how amazing as hott stay-at-home-mom, like a role model really...I'm certain I walked away after telling them too many stories about my kids and exchanging tales of how we knew the happy couple, with the feeling they'd met someone truly special...or not.

Anyway, my kids were great...well behaved, cute and Harry decided he would put his shy ways (yeah right) aside for the day and dance like freakin John Travolta! He went up to those 25 year olds and avenged me by asking them to dance which of course melted their bar-hardened, slutty hearts. He also threw social etiquette to the wind and totally monopolized the bride...awesome. She can now go off the pill and throw the condoms away...Harry was like dancing birth control...with his wet sandy shorts and sleeves smeared with cake..he kept running up to her begging to be picked up and spun around to the beatings of Black Eyed Peas...BoomBoomPow baby!! Well, you're welcome lady. Now if it were my friends I would have put a stop to this, but really, my husbands 26 year old chef friends who I have nothing to say to? Dance Harry dance!

Mostly the weekend was fun because within an hour of entering the town we were on the beach, in suits, holding hands and thinking "holy crap this feels great!" Kids were swimming and playing in sand...ignoring us, awesome.

Home Sweet Home

2010-07-16T22:06:00.002-05:00

OK, day 16 of new home. Not just new home, but first home, dream home, home I walked past 15 years ago and fantasized about living in! Ok well, you know sometimes you're having a dream, a sweet lovely dream and then the clouds come in and it starts to rain, and then bad people jump out at you and you're like "what the hell happened to my nice dream?" Well, its not that extreme...today was just hard. I started pulling up the carpet on the second floor...oh right, sorry, did I mention my dream home has three beautiful stories...and that it's in a neighborhood I thought I'd never be lucky enough to live in, two blocks from my kids school, near good friends that we love, and has the best of both urban and "great neighbor" feel. The house was built in 1872...good and bad things come with this...great glass work, pocket shutters in windows, beautiful mantels on each of the three wood burning fireplaces and much more charm. However, we moved in to central air broken, shower broken, no oven, broken dryer, mold, broken windows, hole in wall in kids room, 10 years of filth, 3 gas leaks, carbon monoxide leak, bugs, leaky toilet on main floor, and bugs, wait I said bugs...well, let's stick with saying it twice, some of those bugs are freaking big! Each day I would have to find something I liked or that was working to stop me from crying...sometimes I had to search. Like the washer works great. And I like the tile in the bathroom AND the one bathroom works! It's got a great "wet bar/family room" area...I spend a lot of time in there...yes, I stocked the bar the first day. The kids room turned out cute. There are french doors in the front that are beautiful and face east and in the afternoon the light is amazing! I love walking around the corner to...well, anything...the train that takes my husband to work in 13 minutes, coffee, great stores, son's art class. The first week when I was feeling overwhelmed I'd walk outside and sit in the courtyard in front or go to 7-11 and get a soda and stroll home...thinking how crazy it is that I live here!! How for years now we've wanted this...OUR home, OUR "fixer upper", a place that we could make our own and stay forever. A great street, with great neighbors, smack in the middle of the city...offering that urban life we love with the homey feeling we crave. Love doesn't begin to describe and home isn't a big enough word. I got my new dryer today!! Baby steps!

Love Melts...Run Fast.

2010-06-08T10:40:00.007-05:00

Loving someone can be like buying them a tall ice cream cone on a hot day. I know two people in love...I imagine them as children...sweet little blond girl sitting on a stoop, with the handsome, but serious little boy walking down the street from the ice cream man. He's balancing a triple scoop ice cream cone...it's starting to melt. He saved his pennies for days and days...he's filled with hope and this ice cream will show her...show her his love. It will be what binds them. He'll make it before it melts, he hopes. He'll sit down next to her and present his love...sweet and creamy...her favorite, pink peppermint. She'll love it. She'll be happy. He will be the one, the only one to make her happy. He will be the only one to ever buy her ice cream, to love her. He'll make it...oh, please don't melt...wow, it's hot. They'll laugh and talk and be best friends forever...he will be the person she's always wanted. He's so close...but it's hot and the ice cream is running down the cone, on to his hands and circling his wrists. The doubt sets in. He'll never make it. The ice cream will be melted and gross by the time he gets there and she'll laugh at him, think he's ridiculous. She'll leave and one day someone else will deliver her ice cream...frozen and perfect. It's hot, hotter now and he can't believe he even tried...wasted his time...she could never love him...she's beautiful and sweet and he and his ice cream are just not good enough. So instead of running to get to her faster, he quits. He throws the ice cream on the hot sidewalk and walks away. Running would show her too much...show her too much of him...he's hidden it from everyone else...he wants to be vulnerable but he can't bring himself to. Today, his ice cream won't do...it may never and he's too afraid to try. It's a hot hot summer and a long long block.

Being vulnerable is one of the tricky parts of loving someone. Sometimes once you've hurt or hurt each other, it's hard to take down those walls and love again...show love and allow someone in, for fear of them ripping their love away. Sometimes we love so much that it scares us and it seems to make more sense to throw in the towel (or ice cream) and walk away. We build our walls and taking them down is a long, scary process.

I see it. I see love in his eyes when he looks at you. I wish you saw it too. It's a gift I would wrap up and give to you if I could. There's good stuff there. It will be some work taking down those walls that seem so strong...but do it...do it before it's too late. Remember it just takes both of your dropping your guard...maybe at the same time. Take a swim! But there is love...love that will last, love that is true, and yes, scary as hell. Grab those ice cream cones and run!!

Tending Ones Garden

2010-05-27T20:21:00.005-05:00

Women really know how to take care of themselves...not emotionally, oh no, god forbid! I'm talking about physically. Manicures, pedicures, facials, skin wraps, massages, blow outs, spray tans, eye brow waxes, bikini waxes, hair cuts and dye jobs, yoga, Pilate's...physical maintenance. Now most of these women will tell you, it's not necessarily FOR anyone...it's to make THEM feel good and I think that's great...I'm all about being happy, feeling good about myself. But really, once you're cut, colored, waxed, toned and tan, who is looking? I realized the other day...(eavesdropping at Starbucks) listening to two women talk about their monthly "maintenance"...that all of this "tending" was going to waste, when one of the women said how seldom she and her husband had sex. Now, that's fine...no pressure, but come on! Give it up! What are you saving it for? You work so hard tending your own garden and you don't let anyone pick the flowers? You spend $75 on a bikini wax and you don't let him go downtown and check it out...please! Maybe they masturbate a lot? Who knows.

Speaking of masturbation...(*Mom, please stop reading!)...I've taken a very informal poll and discovered the majority of women I talked to don't like it when their husbands masturbate. Interesting. Why? Now, unless they're doing it middle of the day, on the sofa, who cares? Now, this is just the "normal" business...no porn, no creepiness, just your run of the mill whacking it, so to speak. I understand there could be some awkward moments...a friend of mine walked in on her husband in the act in front of the computer....gross! Wipe that keyboard! But what if it was just in the shower? It's clean, private, no messy spot on the bed! Here's the other thing...women are always good for the "2 minutes of hot love" joke, right? Well, if your husband masturbated more, he'd last longer than 2 minutes! Oh yeah, I'm on to something! I just found it interesting...I mean, you can't go anywhere with women where the subject of how great "the rabbit" is doesn't come up...so why do we get to do it, but it bothers us that they do? Oh well.

Finally tonight, in the spirit of tending your garden, I'd like to give a shout out to a good friend...Carey. She and I were friends in the early 90's, right when I moved to Chicago. We were friends, good friends for years. Such a good friend that one time when we got to talking and she figured out I'd never had an orgasm, she called her ex-boyfriend, Laszlo, over to give me one...knowing he'd get the job done. Carey and I have drifted apart, but I'll always remember...well, Laszlo. Thank you Carey...now that's a good friend!

Moving Forward

2010-05-18T13:22:00.003-05:00

Once there was a woman who I thought was beautiful. I didn't know her at all...just would see her and wonder what her life was like...what kind of person was she? She seemed to have it all and the few times we spoke I have to admit, I was a bit intimidated. Well, it's a few years later...this same woman has now gone from unknown beauty, to girls weekend companion, to friend, to better friend, to running mate, to realtor, to the woman who took me on the longest run of my life this morning. She guided, she motivated and congratulated...things you won't always get from even good friends.

I believe people come into our lives when we need them...some are bridges to the next level. This friend is helping me, supporting me through a difficult time...and motivating me to the next level. She makes me feel lucky and grateful.

I'm proud to call her my friend...she's an amazing wife and mother...she has the gift to make everyone she's with feel like the most important person in the room. Like a hand print on my heart she has become someone I love...someone I trust and can rely on. What's most important to me is that I feel like she gets me...and that's not easy!

I've said it before, friends are tough for me...getting over the pain, trusting, and letting someone in. Thank you, LBC, for allowing me to breathe, and to trust. Thank you for surprising me with how close we've become...and for getting me.

Kamikaze Mom

2010-05-01T12:03:00.002-05:00

I call them "Kamikaze Moms"...because they are not just "oh-look-at-me-I-have-a-baby"...they are IN it. In it to win it. Full on Mom...yes, with a big fat capitol M. Mother. Mother Extreme. It probably started at pregnancy...they probably poured flax seed on all their food and rubbed oil on their bellies.
But now they have toddlers. Every amount of themselves...before kids, is gone. They've cut their hair...their long beautiful hair that once they used to attract their husbands, it's now just in the way...hard to manage, takes too long to blow dry, can't take the time at the stylist...it's gone, cut short in an easy to do, run your fingers through it style.
Their nails...same thing...no time, no polish, short blunt cut with rounded edges to not hurt said baby. Makeup? No. No time in the mornings that are now spent nursing and developmental flash cards. Cute, ass trimming jeans are replaced with functional cargo pants and good-bye to the sexy sandal, hello comfortable flat. The diaper bag is for sure more function than form and is carried over head, criss cross over body to provide two free hands. They have "little Billy" signed up for Gymboree, play groups, music and a language...all by 2 years old.
They are no longer feminine creatures. I saw one in person once and couldn't look away...she was sitting in her cargo pants comparing pre-schools with another mother...while she sat her 3 year old son came walking up to her, lifted up her shirt and helped himself to some of "mothers milk"...she didn't bat an eye...just kept talking and finally moved so he could sit on her lap more comfortably. I have to say that freaked me out...She looked dead behind the eyes, letting her little creature suck her dry, literally. I didn't know if I should look away or go up and hug her...tell her she can be a great mom without completely giving up on herself...I walked away.
I'm glad I'm a mom, but I'm also glad I'm still a woman. I like wearing nice clothes and looking nice for my husband...I still grab that lip gloss when I hear the front door open. Who will she be when her kids grow up? And oh my god!! What on earth are you teaching this little BOY??? That he can just walk up and pull out a tit anytime he wants? That mommy is and was just a vessel? Nice. I want to teach my boys to respect women...and that starts with me.
Am I a full service great mother...yes. Am I, what I have deemed a 'Kamikaze Mom'? Hell no.

I'm Sick Of Whores

2010-04-29T09:46:00.002-05:00

I'm watching the Oprah interview with John Edwards mistress...so I'm worked up! This woman is claiming to be "committed to truth"..."to living an authentic life"...Are you kidding me? Who goes after a married man who is committed to truth? Is having a baby with a married man living your authentic life? To me the fact that he's a "politician" makes no difference...none. To me its a married man looking for some sex or an ego stroke and a woman who has no business prowling around a married man. Never. Ever. Ever. "Bad timing"...don't care. "Meant to be together"...bullshit. I've heard it all. Don't give a shit. Boo hoo on your bad timing and loves that can't be...boo fucking hoo. Grow up and live with disappointment. Or here's a thought, figure out why you think deep down that you're not good enough to be in a healthy "above board" relationship. And hey, if you're the man, figure out what the fuck is wrong with your marriage or with you, that you're looking at other women, or why you need the ego stroke or sex outside your marriage...figure your shit out!

Pink Is For Boys

2010-04-17T15:58:00.005-05:00

So with my two horrible pregnancies and births and the amount of time spent in the NICU I'm not going to get my little girl. I have two amazing, beautiful, fun boys and that's good enough for me. I never think about it...never walk through the pink clothes department longing for ribbons and bows...never miss the mother-daughter teas or the princess parties. I used to walk by American Girl Place and smirk, thinking of all those poor parents that have to go in and endure the horror and the hit to their wallet...though its not that different than going to the Lego store!
Having two boys means I have a house filled with trucks, blue bedding, video games, and an amount of Lego's that make you wonder if we're opening our own store. Though, I have had my taste of what it would be like to have a little girl. I realized this while picking up the house this morning...I call it the "mom sweep", when you go through the house and pick up all the random things to make the attempt to put them back where they belong. So walk through the room, pick up the "Wimpy Kid" book, the baseball cards that are all over the coffee table, the Spongebob backpack, the purple ballerina Barbie, the Nintendo DS....wait a minute, the purple Barbie? What the fuck? Oh, and look over there...its the complete Polly Pocket closet that holds 10 pairs of shoes, the pink jewelry box filled with headbands, the pink purse, and the beloved pink hippo. Yes, you read correctly...I have two boys. I just have one boy who is way in touch with his "feminine side". He never leaves home without a headband...and lately a Pashmina tied like an ascot. He loves his Polly Pockets, his purses, his necklaces & bracelets, his tea set, his pink baby doll...not to mention he begs for lipstick, high-heeled shoes, princess costumes, and anything Barbie!
Now, I love me a handbag and I do think I'd be awesome at having a gay son...but I'm not convinced I'm on the path to the Pride Parade or an expensive surgery...he still loves his race track with the smash up cars, and his need for speed on his bike, and he loves to threaten to hit me in the face and sad as that sounds we see that as a "manly thing" (though we are trying to tone down his need for violence).
So for now we think it's cute, not sure when it won't be...5Th grade? But by then I'm sure I'll know one way or another and be fine with it...
For now, I'll keep picking out the Lego pieces AND the Polly Pocket shoes from the vacuum bag...and I'll keep sneaking into his room at night to steal back my purses, and my lip gloss.

Me, Modest?

2010-04-17T12:53:00.000-05:00

A friend asked me to tell him why I wrote that being a ballet dancer would make me far from modest...so here goes my explanation. Ballet, being just like any other physical sport, is all about the body. But unlike other sports during "practice", or ballet class, you are surrounded by mirrors...you are constantly watching yourself, seeing if your hips are straight, if your feet are pointed enough...you're judging yourself and every other person in the room. I was in class everyday...in a regional company in Michigan...not only did you see everyone in your class everyday, but you saw them at their best and worst, every flaw, every imperfection. You also saw everyone naked...sharing dressing rooms was common and changing in cars on your way to class or rehearsal with others was typical. You become immune. Being naked becomes no big deal. I saw my first penis way before the fumbling sex came into play...it was just there and it was in most ways, no big deal. Now on top of regular classes, in ballet you take "partnering" class...learning how to dance as a couple. Now I realize this may seem strange, given that sometimes you're 12 years old when you begin taking these classes, but running across the stage and being caught by your male partner becomes normal...and there are the times he misses, you fall or hands slip...being "felt up" is common. Other young men can make fun of boys taking ballet all they want, but really who's the fool...the one making fun or the one who gets to see naked girls and hold them close? The mirrors and constant examination of yourself and others lends itself to the anorexia and self esteem issues that surround ballet, its not cliche, its again, normal. So when you live for years in this world of body image, self loathing, nakedness, drugs, and constantly not feeling you're good enough, it's difficult to break away from it...to live a life without it. There were some girls when I was younger who didn't have a naturally thin body, they struggled to acheive this by throwing up, taking drugs and not eating...we all knew this and it was never something we worried about of thought was wrong...it was normal and in our screwed up minds, just what she had to do. Still today, I walk into a room and feel aware...I close my eyes and see myself a size 16, not 4...I wonder how I look all the time and it will forever bother me that I don't still dance. Running is not the same, but I do feel the same tendencies creeping into my running class...who has a better stride, who runs faster, who's doing the marathon?? Awful.

But back to the nudity...it doesn't really bother me. I don't think about it...still. Going from Dancing to modeling was more of the same. I did nude modeling, but even regular modeling takes someone who has lost some modesty...the changing clothes out on location, the stylist "arranging" your body inside the bra or bathing suit...you are on stage at every casting and every job. With the nudes I was on set for hours and hours completely naked...sometimes with just the photographer and one other person, but other times with entire crews...the lighting guy up on the ladder who you know was thinking impure thoughts or worse thinking how ugly you are...the completely clothed extras in the background who you knew were thinking "why are you a model, you're not all that!" Once I did a shoot (nudes) on the bank of a swamp, laying down in the mud with bugs biting me. I laid there for hours trying to look pretty, calm, serene...all the while with mosquito bites between my legs. I went home that night and to the question "how was your day" answered, fine. This was my life...normal for me. It's all relative. I've done nudes in huge tanks of water, while holding strange positions and my breath, and an entire lighting crew hanging over me...I've had tape holding parts of me down, still and to the right...super sticky tape that rips your skin...I've crawled around for hours on a color copier naked making 8x10 copies of each of my parts, piece by piece, to be put together on a huge background to look that as if I'm floating in a sea of blue...that piece is now under plexi and hangs in an office that thousands of people walk by each day...weird. I've hung in museums, galleries, and private homes...somewhere I'm naked above someones mantle! I've had to walk down a busy city street wearing nothing but high heels...during rush hour...to do this I wished I was nearsighted and could only see a few feet in front of me, my 20/20 vision of onlookers standing for hours watching me made me wonder if they had jobs first of all and second WHAT THE FUCK??!! Sure, its not something you see everyday but stop take a look and move the fuck on! Thank God this was before camera phones or I'd be on You Tube!
All of these crazy shoots took place along with conversations...conversations of clients, photographers, stylists about how I looked. How was my face, my ass, my breasts...? Were my hips level? Was my hair too red? Was the hairline of my pubic area straight? Could "she" hold still? Could "she" be taller? Could I be better? Could I be different? "No, she's not quite right"..."No, she won't do"..."No". Sometimes worse were male clients..."wow, she's hot"..."what a rack"..."wouldn't kick her out of bed"...Really? How dumb is that saying? I've heard it all...no one tries to spare your feelings, I think they think you don't have any. Blocking out the doubt of a client was harder that being naked. Now if you watched "Seinfield" you know there's "good naked" and "bad naked"...I've never opened a jar of pickles naked or changed a bike tire, and probably never will. Part of why modeling nude was easy was that I was treated well...the heat got jacked up and I was given a robe...pretty much all you could ask for..while naked with sticky tape in weird places.

Come See My Chairs!

2010-03-27T12:14:00.003-05:00

The room I was molested in as a child was warm...stuffy really...that warm, radiator, forced, hot air. It was a small room filled with this stagnate air that failed to move or, at the time, help me escape. This air has followed me and continues to suffocate me. You see, I keep my demons in a box...a medium size box in the back of my head. I keep the box locked and in an empty room, again locked. But sometimes the demons gets out...the box opens, unlocks the door and surrounds me like a bad chill...only its not a chill...its heat, that same stuffy, forced air heat, that can't be shut off. These "friendly" little reminders will follow with me forever, like a bad house guest, but I've gotten very good and keeping the box locked and the door shut.
Last night in bed I was warm...I opened the window a crack for some fresh spring air...but since the thermostat is in our bedroom the rest of the house was blasted with heat from the radiators. Walking into that heat this morning was all it took. I held it together pretty well...made coffee, started breakfast for kids, but felt irritated. I was chalking it up to the lack of sleep, having had a "Fringe" marathon last night until 2 am. But this was different...I got dressed and suddenly was very conscience of my heart racing. I began to open windows and turned off the heat. That didn't help. I was in full panic. I was facing the contents of the box...full frontal. Horrible images filled my head and it as all I could do to get to my room and shut myself off from the kids. But it only got worse...I called for my husband and he came in and knew just what to do. He grabbed me, called for me like a lost child in the grocery store...I was lost in my head. Something else, someone else was taking over. The panicked little girl was there and no one could help her. FC held tight and told me over and over that he was there, and nothing could hurt me and that I was safe. He said it over and over until I was back...then there was tears and talking and love and comfort. Did I mention how awesome my husband is?
After the calm had set in and the tears were gone and my heart had resumed a normal rhythm, I did the only thing that made sense...I stained my dining room chairs. I know, weird. But in the open air of my garage with the strong smell of stain and me in full control of how the stain was applied, I was safe...safe from other smells, sights and disturbances that make the box open. So the locks are locked and the doors are closed...and my chairs look great! Just another Saturday.

Time

2010-03-22T18:52:00.003-05:00

Time off for good behavior?? Not sure about that, but a four day girls weekend to warmer state was just what I needed! How nice to be away! Amazing really. Perfect amount of time, no requirments or expectations, no one to wipe. Perfect. From the minute we arrived we got into a lovely rythum of nothingness...wake, coffee by pool, maybe a walk, suits on, bask by pool, fire up blender, just the right amount of ice-triple sec-tequila-lime and its a nice afternoon. Sun goes down, change clothes, sit by outdoor fireplace, open bottle of wine, maybe two or more...laugh, laugh, laugh, fall asleep, get up and do it all over again. Not a bad way to spend 4 days. I read none of the books I brought...only trashy magazines. Never left the room to take a nap in the middle of the day, as I've fantasized about...no need to, I got plenty of sleep at night...crazy. I'm grateful to be at the age where I love and appreciate being around women...talking, laughing, no work, no competition, no men, no kids!
Thanks to my friend LE... for inviting me to paradise!

*Mom, Please Don't Read This One!!

2010-03-08T13:09:00.006-06:00

So last night...late night after kids were fast asleep, TV watched, emailed checked, and it was time for bed, my husband and I starting kissing. We kiss all the time, but this was going somewhere... minutes later he was taking my bra off and I was struck with a thought...when was the last time this happened? Not the sex, but the bra. How has it happened that sex has started happening after the bra is already off, after pj's, after face and teeth taken care off...why can't I remember the last time we ripped each others clothes, not pj's, off? Now luckily it's not for lack of sex, but the timing...we are busy, we have kids, we have jobs...now I realize that's no excuse, but I'm certain it's common. I know from talking with girlfriends, and even cliche TV shows and movies, that we are not alone. I feel thankful that we have sex as much as we do. I would hate to be in relationship that one person wished things we different, or better, or more often! But when you have these kids, these jobs, these lives, you end up not being home alone together often..if ever...so sex turns into something you do at night, when the kids are fast asleep. This is one reason why I could never have the family lifestyle where the kids sleep with you or you play "musical beds" and have usual comings and goings at night. I love that my kids go to bed when I put them to bed and stay in bed all night...it gives us the freedom to have the private time we need...the sex, the naked walking to the bathroom, the laughter...the intimacy I need. Sure, we could have gotten creative...I have friends that (while their kids are home) sneak off and have sex in the laundry room and closets...fun, but seriously I'd rather just wait than feel the cool chill of the dryer under my ass! And my closet is huge, but really? So we wait...sometimes it's fun...the anticipation of kissing in the evening or watching him with the kids and falling in love or lust all over again and thinking I can not wait another minute to be alone. There's a drawer in my kitchen that I keep lip gloss...so when I hear the front door and kids rush to see him, I reapply...now that doesn't make me a 50's wife, but I like to try at least to look good for him and keep things fresh. This month we will have been together for 10 years...I'm proud of where we started and where we've come...what we've been through and what we've built. I love him more than anything and I can't wait to see us in another 10! Gotta go, I'm going bra shopping!

50/50

2010-03-03T09:35:00.002-06:00

So you know you get up, go through your day and nothing connects...one thing moves to the next, task after task, but nothing seems to have any sort of deeper meaning or makes sense. For me those are about half the time. Then there are the days you get up and if you take one extra moment to tap into some thought...some feeling, then you suddenly find later during some chat with a friend or run-in with a stranger that boom, the circle is made...now no, I'm not saying you've just cured cancer or had some life changing moment...but for me it's nice to have things, big or small, come full circle.

Now my husband has joked for years that "things like that always happen to you"...he's even questioned if I may have psychic ability...but no, its just that I take that extra moment to question why a certain thought has crossed my brain, or when I get up I think about how I feel, what I feel, what I'm motivated to do, or not motivated to do...and why. That usually leads to some interaction later that makes me find the answer. Here, like the other day I woke up and had the passing thought of my days years ago in the photography business...back being a model, then later working as a producer and stylist. I didn't just have a memory, but I felt something...a flutter of emotion in remembering how working in that industry made me feel...sounds crazy, and it was quick, but it put the thought there and I'm just that person who doesn't let thoughts like that go...hence the blog and my nature of over-analyzing things! Anyway, later in the morning, after kids were at school and day was underway, I got on computer and looked up a photographer I worked for years ago...someone I hadn't seen in years or even thought about. I found his website right away and while clicking through his online portfolio a picture caught my eye...I clicked back to it and looked at it for a few minutes wondering if I was looking at a 23 year old version of myself...boney shoulders, mole on stomach, hip bones sticking out, yep that's me! Great, more naked pictures of me on the Internet! That's just what my husband likes to hear..."hey honey, guess what I found today??" Well, at least its not some gross porn or sad image shot in a nasty studio, where I took my shirt off like Coco in Fame! I was older, and well paid, and now look back and am happy I have these pictures. I'm happy to still hang on walls or be apart of a portfolio. Anyway, so I emailed photographer and said hi and told him how surprised I was to find myself on his site...he promptly wrote back and it felt nice to connect with him. I looked up some more people I worked for as producer or stylist, then I look up some people I knew of and hadn't seen their wok in years...it was all great...so nice to see how their work had changed or evolved. My life from photography to restaurants happened so fast and with little to no huge thought or feeling of loss...no time. Anyway, blah blah blah, day goes on and phone rings, its my ex-husband (a photographer, who I met and was married to during those days)...he was calling to ask me advice on upcoming exhibit of his work. We hadn't spoken in months and its been over a year since his last showing...but he had some specific questions that I know he only trusted me to answer. We talked creative, business and emotion...all things involved in being a fine-art photographer. It was great...I felt good, like I knew what I was talking about and someone was listening. By the end of the conversation he asked me to be his Chicago rep and handle his upcoming show and any and all promotion for it. Great! Good for me! His show is in November, so it gives me time to pull it together...plus its something I can sink my teeth into and believe in. I realized later that all jobs I've ever had are "show" based...all have either an "opening and closing", like performances...even retail; you're on stage, you open the doors and deal with different people each day. From ballet to modeling to photo shoots to restaurants...they all have that rush of the unexpected, the highs are high, and adrenalin needed! An office worker I'm not! If I'm going to go to same place everyday, it better have new and different things going on and interchanging people...and call for emotion, creativity, and your senses. I love at the end of this day to see the string that tied 20 years of jobs together! Plus, have a job or project to look forward to! I recently walked away from consulting job with a restaurant...they can't afford me, plus the work is at night and I've realized I'm not willing to give up the nighttime with the kids and husband. So this project could be great...even if the money (commission) is just ok. So funny how in one day...really just 6 hours, I went from remembering those days past, to wondering why, to connecting with people from those days, and then finally having new place in that world...funny. So am I "psychic", like husband sometimes thinks?? No. Do I have too much free time? Definitely not! I am however, grateful to be getting closer to the balance of a full life...time spent with kids, raising these little humans...plus, being wife and taking care of our home life...plus now having time, even if its just one day a week or a few hours to put into myself...taking the time to think and feel and look out for those strings that answer questions that after years of changing diapers and caring for others I haven't had time to ask...good.

Dodger

2010-02-27T13:22:00.002-06:00

With last weeks well planned vacation I dodged the depression that was coming...luring, creeping up on me. It was a wonderful week spent doing at first nothing, then the kids got their fix at a water park and arcade...I opted for the big 2 bedroom suite so we could actually have privacy and not have to turn the lights off at 9pm. Then the next day I had to host a quick dinner at church, then we were off to Michigan to enjoy some snow with the kids. We "borrowed" a friends house and lived the life of sleeping in, sledding, skiing, and my favorite, drinking champagne in the hot tub after the kids were in bed! There is NOTHING like sitting in the woods, smelling fireplace smoke, hearing the crackle of trees in the dark night, looking at the stars and feeling the snow hit your shoulders...all the while drinking champagne and sweating in the heat of the water of the hot tub...with my husband. Watching the kids ski was awesome...you know you have these kids and they're attached to you for what seems to be forever...then they grow (due to the food and water you provide) and they become their own little people...and outside of your presence they are fun, not whiny, interesting, and fun to be around! We hid in the trees and saw them learn to ski right before our eyes! We watched them fall and not cry...like they'd do if we were there...they got up, tried again, and smiled at their teachers. Amazing! I put some skis on too! Growing up in Michigan and I never learned to ski! Well, much to my husbands amazement I was awesome!! I never fell...was almost never. I did go head first, full speed into a wooden sign...and of course after NOT mastering the skill of stopping (a pretty important skill mind you) I decided to go down the "intermediate" hill...well lets just say I needed that hot tub the next day and the fall I took was like watching the falls down the "super G" in Vancouver. Good times! We came home rested, sun burned, and not at all ready to go back to reality. I also came back a year older...my birthday dinner in Michigan was perfect...my husband cooked, my kids hugged me, my mother and my cousin and his family came...good wine...perfect.

So yes, I dodged the bullet of the depression I was falling into...came back to work, kids schedules, and threw myself into my life...went back to running class that I'd skipped or missed the past 3 weeks...felt better than I thought it would but I've got to get back to it if I'm going to do the runs I have planned...a 10 mile soon, a 1/2 marathon, and the group from class is planning for the marathon in October...not sure if I'm ready, but I know if I don't try I feel like a quitter.

Couple of other things...why does the bathroom seem cleaner when someone else cleans it?? Why are my 3 year olds poops bigger than mine?? And speaking of 3 year olds pooping...I'm happy to change the dirty diaper of a baby with all the wiping that may take, vs wiping the butt of someone else's 3 year old...to me there's no difference between a 3 year old and a full grown person...full size poop, just smaller booty! So I'm sorry to anyone I've left my kid with and they've had wiping to do!

Silent Screaming

2010-02-11T09:35:00.003-06:00

Today I'm screaming. I'm silently screaming. Screaming on the inside...holding it in. I'm like a sleeping bag being stuffed in a bag that's too small...you push it down deeper, while you try to zip the bag closed, holding the sides tightly and pushing the sleeping bag hard before it unravels. My heart is racing, my mind is racing...I'm looking for something to do to keep busy, but have no ambition to do anything. I stay in bed and hide. I don't want to go out; to be seen by people would be more than I could handle. I keep it together when I'm with my kids. I keep it together when I'm with my husband. I smile when I take my kid to school and when I see my neighbors. I'm anything but smiling. I don't feel like it. I can hardly write this...to face my own inability to act normal is so upsetting. I have so much to do...laundry, cleaning, planning dinners for my job, making calls...but to do those things I would have to leave my bed and talk to people...not going to happen. I have a terrible headache. It makes me think of Amy...suffering in bed. I would try and help her battle her depression, the physical pain she felt that we had no explanation for...until it was too late. The night she put her dog out of her room and killed herself, I wasn't there...not in the room and not on the phone. This bothers me. I miss her today...if she were here she would crawl into bed with me and cuddle, make me laugh and let me cry. She understood me more than anyone did...loved me more than anyone could. Next week is my birthday...she always made my birthday so special, with cards and flowers and love...her smile, her ability to make me feel better. She was my love-me-see-me-naked-let-me-crawl-into-bed-with-her-save-me-from-myself-love-me-unconditionaly-soul-sister-best-friend. So on my birthday I will get cards, well wishes, hugs from my boys, something sweet from husband...but her phone call will be missed.

When I started writing this I had no idea why I was so sad...then it came to me. Who says "blogging" is pointless?!

Keeping Them At Bay

2010-02-05T12:40:00.003-06:00

Keeping the demons at bay is sometimes tricky. They are crafty little shits who sneak in when you're not looking...they're like that prom date I had once, the one my father "whored" me out to when I was 15...they tease you, they lie to you, they trick you into the back seat of a car on a dark road and try to rip your dress off. I've spent most of my life, my childhood and beyond, getting out of bad situations...its no wonder that now, when I don't find myself in them anymore, when any drama does come up I go into high gear...I plot, plan, and try to work my way out of a corner that doesn't even exist.
So times like this, like now, when I hear them coming, feel them coming, I'm in protective mode. The "they" being the demons I mentioned...the memories, the lies, the nightmares, the smells...the depression. I've felt it for a while, but worked hard to focus on other things...keep busy, not think about it. Self protection. Adults who were molested as children see the signs, if we're lucky. They (I) react...sometimes to nothing...which for my husband, can explain my sometimes crazy, irrational behavior. Sometimes it comes out of the blue, from a sight or smell....Chalk. I hate chalk. You hate chalk when your predator was a teacher. I have it in my house, use it with the kids, but sometimes if I don't wash my hands off quickly enough it comes...the heart races and I begin to sweat.
Today I'm alone in the house and I'm panicking. My husband is out and should be back by now...I have to keep my mind on things and projects or they will come, full-blown and ferocious and take over my day and I will have no choice but surrender.
Who am I kidding? I can do this! Days like this, when I have to try harder, just make me realize how hard I work at it everyday and don't even realize it. So now, I will keep busy by planning vacation in two weeks for me and my family...we won't be packing the chalk!

Puke

2010-01-24T20:08:00.003-06:00

Watching the Vikings game right now is about all I can take. Brett is getting his ass kicked and for being super tough he just got hit and barely got up. I no longer care if the Vikings win...getting one game away from the Superbowl is enough for me...should be enough, in my mind to quiet the Favre haters, all the people who said he shouldn't come back, couldn't come back and would suck up the field when he did come back...shut up shut up shut up you were wrong!! Haha! He is awesome and has kicked major ass this season. I just now don't want to see him taken off the field on a cart...or worse. I can't take it. Since its dark and late, I can't take a run to relieve my stress, I'm "blogging it out" as my hubby would say.
This game is horrible timing...like my stress wasn't bad enough. You see this week my good friends dad passed away...suddenly from a heart attack. It was sad for her, her family and her kids....obviously. Her son is my sons best friend and watching this little boy express, the way only a 7 year old could, his sadness and pain has broken my heart. He's been here this weekend playing, away from his house of grief. For me watching my friend, who was very close to her dad, suffer has killed me. I can't stand in her shoes, but I can feel her pain. For me, feeling someones pain has a physical reaction...this week I have found myself shaking uncontrollably, I've been physically ill, I've had horrible headaches, and I've broken out in head to toe hives. Good times. But I can take it. It the least I can do for my friend! Hubby and I have stepped in and out of our love for our friend and her dad we are hosting the post funeral reception. It was something we wanted to do...we remember the stress after my husbands dad died and we wanted to help my friend by taking that off her plate. We have spent a lot of time with my friends dad...dinners, holidays...he took an interest in us being a lover of food and wine. He was a sweet, good, kind, and very charming man. He was one of two people I could honestly say I wish he were my dad...both of those men are now gone. What's funny is my biological father is alive and well. What a rip off...I got this useless human being for a father, who is living his miserable life and these two amazing men are gone. I loved them both very much and they both I think saw my pain and tried to be extra kind and loving to me. I thank them for that and will miss them.
So tomorrow we will have the funeral and I will keep busy doing what I do best...pouring wine! It's my only defense against the pain. I have to be strong for my friend. But the pain and stress these past few days trying to pull this reception together, while feeling sad for myself and horrible pain for my friend, plus seeing this 7 year old boy who has lost his grandpa...kills me. The hives I can can deal with, the getting ill (hence the title of post), even the Vikings game and watching Brett get hit play after play....but the muscle twitching stress mixed with watching my friend cry...and realizing the men I loved and secretly (not any more) wished were my dad, are gone. Sucks.
Ok, now I've blogged it out, I'm going to watch the end of the game and say good-bye to Brett for the season. Oh God no, 6 minutes left, tie game...crap.

Decisions

2010-01-19T18:32:00.002-06:00

How do we teach our kids to make good decisions...when we struggle with it everyday? It's like the drug talk...asking them to not use drugs when we (you) did. How do we get them to obey, not talk back, listen to, and respect us all the while make sure they know that just 'cause we're mad doesn't mean we don't love them? How do we not grab them and say "what the fuck did you do that for?". It's hard. During a long, emotional heart to heart with the 8 year old tonight I decided to ask him what I could work on or change as a parent...having just told him what I thought he needed to work on. Here I'm thinking I'm being respectful and mature...I can take it, even though I knew it would be something bad, so bad that would make me cry...like, don't yell so loud or don't get so mad that you throw dishes in the sink and break them...or don't growl...but it wasn't...that little shit looked at me and said, "nothing, don't change, you're great". Are you kidding me? Crap. Well, now don't I feel like an asshole? Yes. How could he do that...I can think of 10 things right now! I know other kids that would feel like this question were a late Christmas present and let their parents know exactly what kind of job they're doing...oh but not mine. It was not fear that prevented him from speaking his mind...it was love and a kindness he has, was born with , that I've never had, never known before him. Now again, I'd just finished with my "these things have to change" bullshit, telling him the two things that after today's behavior and book store incident needed to be worked on, which were...his behavior towards his little brother and his sassy talking back to me. Neither of which is life altering or usual for an 8 year boy to display...
So I did the only thing I could think of...we cried and hugged and laughed...I made sure he knew that I loved him and that even though he sometimes acted badly he wasn't a bad person and that everyone has impulses that need to be controlled, and that there wasn't anything wrong with him...sounds so easy or clear, but it's not.
Long day, hard day...total shit. I feel like total shit as a mother...as a women. I should be able to do this...my husband is hard at work, excelling at his job and he's trusting me to be home doing mine, and I'm sucking at it. Crap.

Safe

2010-01-15T21:15:00.006-06:00

Finally feeling better. Mono sucks. It makes you want to not only sleep all the time, but to run away...away from family and friends and life...to bed, quiet bed, where no one will bug you...where you can sleep and sleep and sleep....Wait. Do I have mono or am I just like every other parent I know?

The horse pills the doc gave me seem to be working. Plus, I made myself rest. Very unlike me....which come to think of it is how I got mono in the first place. It was 4 days of intense rest...in bed, no laundry, no dishes, no cleaning. During those days I slept, read, watched Breakfast At Tiffany's, lost 5 inches of hair and yes, used fancy new computer. I worked on play list for upcoming girls trip, I looked up Willie Nelson tour dates, and read other peoples blogs. I also watch hours of CNN...coverage of Haiti. Laying in bed watching horrible things and peoples misery, reminded me of being stuck in hospital on bed rest watching 9/11 unfold. One of the amazing women who was treating me came in to my room later in the day, she was in her street clothes, headed home after the long day...she came in, sat down and we held hands. She knew we had just moved 2 weeks before from New York...I told her how I'd worked a few mornings a weeks at the The Windows On The World restaurant and how I felt so blessed to be on the other side of the country and not in that building. She told me how her dad worked in the Pentagon and how she hadn't heard from him yet, how no one had and the worry and pain, now 7 hours after the hit was shaking her to her core. We just sat. Held hands. Cried silently. Still over the volume of the TV I could hear the heartbeat of my little passenger...from the monitor that was strapped to my belly for 4 weeks. It sounded amazing. He was here. Alive and well. Safe. He'd come into my life as a mystery and was proving to be my guardian angel. Saving me from doom. I looked back on that day waddling down 5th that the feeling struck me to leave New York. The feeling had come out of nowhere...just like the pregnancy. Having been on the pill for 10 years, getting pregnant was the last thing I was thinking about during those romantic days in Manhattan. But there he was. So we left. I left my job...a job that brought me up to that amazing view up top of the World Trade Center. Left my job...ignoring the invitation to an event on September 11th at 9am. As I was telling my new friend how lucky I was to be there, the phone rang...it seems I wasn't the only lucky one. Her dad was safe and sound...he'd been unable to get through until then and he had been busy all day helping the wounded. I knew who was on the phone before she even spoke...the look in her eyes gave it away. While she talked on the phone, I thought about the phone call my husband would have gotten that day...about his girl, dead at 30. How horrible for him. If I'd never gotten pregnant that's how that day would have gone down. So what did I learn from all this? Well, never give up hope, always count your blessings, listen to you gut and never think you won't get pregnant just because you're on the pill!

Cut

2010-01-12T09:38:00.003-06:00

Going on 5 weeks of being sick. Flu into virus into sinus infection into mono! So I'm in bed today for 7-8 hours...no kids, nothing. Cleaning lady coming to rescue house and Peapod coming to fill kitchen. These are the days it's hard to have husbands job not "allow" him to come home.

I cut my hair last night. As much as I love having long hair...love actually doesn't do the job to describe how I love my hair...how I need my hair. Its my "security blanket". But last night I was not in the mood for the fight...sometimes brushing it, taking care of it is too hard and being sick right now I wasn't up for it. The other week I had to have my mother come in the bathroom when I was in the shower and help me stray "de-tangling" solution on it just to get a brush through it. Well, last night the solution I used was scissors! I took off 5 inches and it feels short...strange and unattractive. Long hair for me is such a huge part of what makes me feel pretty...without it I will be challenged. I've always envied the sexy short haired girls and wondered how they do and never thought and still don't think I can pull it off. We'll see.

Anyway I "Facebooked" my act of cutting it off and got some funny, sweet comments. But I was surprised to get an email from "friend" claiming they were being kind to me by not publicly posting their feelings on Facebook and telling me how "careless and selfish" I was to commit such an act as cutting my hair! Are you kidding? I had to re-read it twice, because I thought she was kidding! Apparently my hair is "so beautiful" that throwing it into the trash "should be a crime"! There are places out there who could turn my "careless act" into a joy, she wrote...like "Locks of Love", who claim to be a non-profit wig making company for children with Alopecia Areata (a condition that causes hair loss) and cancer. Now I'd heard of Locks of Love and went so far as to grow my hair extra long a few years ago to donate it to them, only to find out they are not the most reputatable company. What sent up the red flag for me was that the National Alopecia Areata Foundation website does not have link to them...now that may not seem like a big deal, but I thought if you're a company that claims to work "hand in hand" with other company, or foundation, wouldn't both companies have links to each other? Well, I put the scissors down and decided to call them directly and get some answers. I explained what my plan was, to cut my 7 inches of hair, and questioned whether or not they indeed work with or recommend Locks of Love...(I made sure to tell them I have really nice hair, that I've over the years been offered really good money for it and I really wanted it going to a "good home"). The woman on the phone said "No, we do not work with or have anything to do with Locks of Love and in our opinion their business practices are questionable at best"...well that was all I needed to hear. I did also call the American Cancer Society and they were less giving with their opinion but told me I should call the Better Business Bureau to get some information before I use the scissors....again, all I needed to hear. It turns out 98% of hair donated for those poor bald kids goes to doll makers!! So fuck you Locks of Love....I'm keeping my hair. Now of course if someone I knew, even through a friend, wanted my hair to make wig for a child or person with cancer or AA, I'd get out the clippers, but to one day walk through toy store and see my hair on some doll, no thank you!

Anyway so I'm left now wondering, should I email back to said "friend" who was so quick to condemn me for the "crime" of cutting my hair and explain how Lock of Love sucks, or do I just focus on the fact of this "friendship" that I love and trusted makes me feel so hurt and betrayed now....? I mean why would you attack me like that? Its MY fucking hair. Should I ask her if she gives ALL her unwanted or leftover food to the homeless?? Same rule apply right..."their are kids out there with no hair"....yeah well, there's kids out there with no food!
Anyway, me and my mono and my "short" hair (it's still below my shoulders, it just feels short) are headed back to bed!

Push Comes To Shove

2010-01-01T13:24:00.007-06:00

So I'm laying on the floor in the narrow hall...he's on top of me, strangling my neck with his hands. I have no idea how we got there...bitter edged words turn to angry words, turn to violent yelling and then it's true, push really does come to shove. That's how it would always start. He would, in a sense, corner me...either with words or usually with his body. In a room, a small room...in that house all the rooms were small, and I was trapped. He would yell and corner, hover really and I felt there was no place to go, no move I could make. So I would push my way out...at that time never being able to be the rational one, push hard. Sometimes one good one would move him and I would run...to another room most times, never wanting to run out the door after the threats of "I'll lock you out", "I'll take the house and all your things", "I'll never let you back in"...and so on. But the time on the hall floor I didn't care...no longer cared about the house, my things, my dog, nothing. After I escaped from under him I went to the dining room/office and picked up the first thing I could find, a towel bar...some, of course, "antique" he just had to have one day that now sat with all the other things in the room of things needing to be hung. It was heavy, iron, good for holding up and threatening someone to back the fuck away from me. Just as I did there was a knock at the door...could have been anyone, we'd let our yelling go above the "normal" range of volume. He went like a scarred animal hiding into the bathroom...pussy, and I was left to open the door and face the person who was coming to ask if I was alright. How humiliating. That was it. After I lied and said I was fine, I said I was leaving and that's what I did. He'd already hid my keys...this was always his "funny" way of getting me to stay...how charming! Well, it wasn't going to work this time. I left the front door open so he wouldn't feel safe yet to come out of the bathroom, ran into my room, grabbed my purse and ran out the door...then out the building door and into the night. Now thinking to grab a coat or even shoes was clearly not a priority....not even when it was winter. I had socks on and it took a few blocks to really feel the snow and cold. After 5 blocks my socks were wet and snow had begun to stick and I knew I couldn't last must longer.

I went to the restaurant I worked at...was the manager, a person of maturity...yeah right! I was 25-26, what did I know? It was evening, dark out and the restaurant was busy. I knew everyone would see me, all the regulars would look up and wave hi, the employees would wonder why I was back...I was just hoping no one was see that I was barefoot and had no coat on. Maybe they would think I had driven and I was so warm from the car that I'd taken off my coat and....shoes? That's dumb. Well, if I walked quickly everyone would just see my smiling face and my coat less, shoeless manner would not register...the clumps of snow sticking to my socks were easy enough to shake off outside and I put on the best fake smile I could....smile damn it, smile. Then, walk, walk fast, faster...oh hi, yes it's me, I'm back, forgot something down in the office, how nice to see you, wave, keep smiling, smile, smile...great, I'm on the stairs heading down to my office I'm feeling good, no one suspected a thing. The door shot open as soon as I'd closed it...hello assistant manager...why am I here, at night, with no shoes, no coat, and had I been in some sort of accident to cause the blood on my face, tear stained eyes, and bruises on my neck?? Great, cover blown.

So feeling like Tina Turner, I checked into small hotel on Belmont...no luggage, bloody, bruised...nice. The guy asked no questions, just gave me key and smiled. He knew. After sitting on bed for a while I realized I had nothing..no toothbrush, no clothes. I love corner stores that carry everything...you can pick up all you need when you're leaving your abusive husband. Toothbrush, hairbrush, nicer shampoo, makeup...tomorrow before work I'll get clothes...it's like a vacation! A vacation with no sun, and no pool, and you can't stop crying.

The next day I figure the better I looked and the more I smiled the less people would notice...it wasn't like the night before, I mean I had shoes on this time! I bought all that I would need...you can work a black dress and boots for days! I unlocked the door of the restaurant in the morning and it was just me and Fiona Apple....ahhh, peace and quiet. She seemed sadder than I was, so it would mask my feelings, right?

Later that day, during my exciting duty of inventory, I looked up and there was husband. He was smiling. Tail in the appropriate spot and asking me how I was. I stood there in the basement of the restaurant and told him how I was....leave, leave now, hurry and go before I throw a box of styrofoam cups at you or maybe not 'cause I just counted it, but I'll find something to throw, leave before I find it! That's how I was...not at all ready to see him, talk to him, deal with the pain, and ask the questions...what do we do now? do we stay together? do you love me? why do you hit me? why don't I leave you? Not ready. I wanted to live in my dumpy hotel, go to work in my black dress and boots, listen to Ms. Apple, and pretend I was a fun 25 year old who had a good job, and a cute sweet creative husband, and dreamed of working at Charlie Trotter's someday. Yeah that's right, I have dreams, ideas of my future, ways to get there...I just can't (couldn't) figure out how to leave this nasty abusive relationship.

I did leave. Sadly it took a while longer. I went back that time after 4 1/2 days of hotel and black dress living...I still have that dress. I don't wear it, I just look at it. I went back and things were no different, no better. About a year later I left. I realized I needed to leave...for me, for him. He would never do it, I had to. I borrowed Amy's car and moved piece by piece into my new little apartment. A few weeks later I was sitting in the quiet of my new home and I had this burst of "I rule", "I did it", "I can do anything"...maybe it was just a moment of good vibe someone was sending me, but it worked. I got dressed, looked pretty good...got on the brown line, got off on Armitage, walked down to Charlie Trotter's, knocked on the front door and was greeted by this tall beautiful man who would become my friend, mentor, idle...thank you MKS, for being everything I could have asked for. He invited me in, we chatted and he offered me a job...I started a week later. I never went back to husband, divorced and moved on. I wrote my own divorce papers with a friend. Stood in court alone. Husband never showed up.

I love the line of your life...how you can trace every move, good and bad...figure out how one point lead to another. The life I knew ended that day in the doorway and my new life began...working at CT's was the bridge that connected them. So funny that I met new husband there, now have two beautiful children and the life I've always wanted?? Funny or just the way it had to be...to get from one place to another...

Connect

2009-12-31T14:16:00.003-06:00

I followed an ad on Craigslist today to buy a small cabinet. When we pulled up to the house I realized I'd lived on that same block about 10 years ago. Funny how of all the ads, all the cabinets, all the blocks I'd wind up there. I'm not thinking too much about the why-there-and-who-was-I-then-bullshit...I'm thinking more about the connection we make in a big city...how after years of living here we run into people we know, we wind up on the same places, we know people who know people we know...it makes us (me) feel safe, like the big city we live in isn't so big and yet we get out of a big city everything we want. Making that connection takes time and maybe that's why some people in the suburbs or small towns find city living so intolerable...they can't see the connections that are possible and they don't give it enough time to see that it can happen. There's a woman I know who has lived in the suburbs for 10 years and I can count on one hand how many times she has come into the city. Seems strange to me...I realize "to each his own" and all that, but to raise kids 30 minutes away from the city and never come in and show them all it has to offer seems like a waste. It was nice today to drive on my old street and meet someone interesting, just for a moment...to feel the connection with a total stranger. And my cabinet is super cute!

Anxiety

2009-12-29T17:52:00.006-06:00

Today I drove up Elston...it was noon, the sun was bright and the sky clear blue. The kids were laughing and I was singing along to the radio...good day. I looked up and saw a plane in the distance...low and close enough to see detail, not just some shadow with jet stream...too close. I'd never seen a plane there before...it was not in the normal flight route you know of when you live in the city. It looked like it was turning slowly around...and I couldn't figure out why it would be turning so low, and why towards the city, not west towards O'hare or even south towards Midway. I was in full panic. Breathing heavy and suddenly the noise from the kids and the radio and the cars beside me were too much...needed to stop them....shut up shut up now shut up quick. My heart raced and my mouth was open with no chance of anything coming out. As quickly as I'd noticed it, I realized it was an illusion...it was indeed turning west, away from the city, away from me, away from people I love, away from doom, more doom, doom I'd escaped once and maybe wouldn't be so lucky twice. Go. Go now. Away. Away. West. Thank you.
On the morning of September 11th, 2001 when I woke up in the hospital in San Francisco instead of being in the World Trade Center...where I would have been...still haunts me, maybe more than I realized.

Lunch

2009-12-29T13:45:00.006-06:00

Took the kids out for lunch today and saw a little boy I guessed about 4 years old with his mother and sister...I noticed something right away, if you asked me what I couldn't tell you...something. After getting my boys settled with their food, coats off, straws in drinks, I looked closer at the little boy at the next table. His eyes looked a bit dim and there was a lack of expression on his face. He wasn't speaking or digging into his lunch, he was just sitting and looking around...then when his mother started to put out his food in front of him he started flapping his hands and there was a quiet grunting. I knew right away...Autism. His little sister was a bright, talkative, crazy two year old...not at all like her big brother. She would grow up required to be patient...patient at her brother's therapy, and at doctor's appointments, and when she secretly wished her brother was "normal".
I wondered silly things...did the mom know? How could she not? Was he in school? Did he have friends? Had she tried changing his diet or tried acupuncture? Did she sit with him for hours waiting for something to give her hope? While I was thinking these things I realized I was looking over HFB's head to get good view of little boy...how crazy is that? I refocused and looked at HFB for a long time...he was eating, laughing at and with his little brother, talking a mile a minute; he was telling me stories of his latest book he's reading, and already asking for dessert, hot chocolate or cookies? I saw him for the beautiful, caring, funny, highly intelligent 8 year old he is...has become. Sure, there's a part of me that will never forget sitting on the floor for hours waiting for something, anything...hope, a smile, a laugh at something I said, a spontaneous hug. Those were long days, hard days, lonely days that I prayed would end and I would wake up and he'd be looking me with a smile, he would answer the questions I asked him instead of just repeating what I said, he would not "read" his whole library of books aloud from memory, but need me to read him something, teach him something...
Those days are over and as we left lunch and walked away I quietly wished the mother well...hoped for the little boy and remembered how the statistic of Autism has now increased to 1 in 70 boys. Amazing. Shocking. What are we doing about it? What is anyone doing about it? Are the people who have the "normal" kids just walking away and sighing with relief? Is that what I'm doing?
I went back. I got the kids cocoa and struck up a conversation with the mother...asked her about the kids, schools, Christmas breaking dragging on, typical "mom speak". Then asked her about "Gavin". She told me of her struggle, her patience, the little girls patience while dragged along to every one of her brother's appointments. Her lonely days and how at 4 years old she can't get enough doctors to give the the same diagnosis to then go to the public school system and get an ILP (individual learning plan)...some say he shows "too much eye contact" to be severe autism and others say "not enough speech to be just delayed"...what was she to do? I told her to fight like hell, never forget her gut...it's almost always right, and to love that little guy like there's no tomorrow.
She seemed to smile with relief...like usually being out in public is tough, I mean what is she suppose to do tell everyone what's wrong with him when they stare? I hope it was nice for her just for a moment during lunch to talk to someone...someone who's been there, someone not afraid to look at her child and try to talk to him.
In the parking lot HFB asked "what is wrong with that boy?"...I said, "nothing". Some stories can wait.

Tuesday

2009-12-29T09:01:00.003-06:00

Well, I'm not talking about the game last night...except to say despite winning and yes, looking stronger than they've looked all season they have very little to be happy about...let's say next week they beat the Lions (not a given) they will go to 7-9 and their season will be over. They will also likely play next week without Tillman and Knox, who were injured last night during the "victory" over the Vikings...I guess bragging rights against the strongest team in their division is worth something and what Bear fan doesn't love to see Favre lose...but I'm still angry. I'm still convinced that with winning the final two games of the season people will forget how the season has hurt and we will just continue on this road...and Lovey's inability to develop players will continue to be overlooked...he actually does the opposite, he inherits good players and suddenly those players suck or are moved to positions they have no business playing. I'm simply thinking of the greater good by hoping for their defeat last night...wanting to drive the point home and pray for change.
Anyway, that's enough of me not talking about it....

Christmas break is moving along...Husband back to work and Mom left yesterday. The kids and I have some errands to do today and may hit the movies...but mostly just killing these 3 days waiting for Husbands 4 day weekend over New Year's! We have some ideas of plans but nothing set...I'm secretly hoping to just lay low...the 3 of us still have nasty coughs and seems like the entire break and week before has been spent sick! Funny how when as soon as Christmas is over I'm anxious to throw away the candy, the wilting pointsettas, sweep up the tree needles and making room in the kids rooms for all the new toys...open the windows and smell the Spring air, but not yet...it's still the "holiday season" and I should still feel the cheer, but I don't, I'm ready to move on...oh well.

I'm enjoying my Christmas gift from Husband...my MacBook Pro rules! The "One on One" program at the Apple store will allow me to make appointments or drop by anytime and get all the help I need...like my blog I get the feeling this is actually my husbands gift to himself..."here Honey, go some place else and stop talking to me so much"....well I have 2 appointments set up and hope to morph them into some "downtown-alone-time-with-some-shopping-and-coffee"....then to go home and show off my fancy learnin'!

Too Little Too late

2009-12-28T21:03:00.003-06:00

Go Bears! Watching the game tonight now is painful...and not for the usual reasons. Typically when I watch the Bears lately it's frustrating due to the red zone picks, the bad calls, and the mis-managed games, but tonight against the Vikings it's upsetting that they are doing well...Jay is passing well, the offense is contributing and the defence is not giving Brett an inch...well, bully for you! I'm NOT happy that they are finding their way, or that Jay FINALLY seems comfortable or confident...NOT happy at all! And here's why...they are under NO pressure, no play-off hopes to strive for...only the joy of pulling it out against the Vikings...BFD. What I'm concerned about is them playing well tonight and maybe even next week and then everyone forgetting how they've sucked total ass all season and NOTHING will change...Lovey will keep is job, no off-season changes or hires or trades, they will just say "see, we just needed some time"....and then next season will start and we will watch them suck ass all over again. Because really how great to play at home with supportive crowd, and have no pressure...easier for sure than to play with play-off hopes or the need to win.
Jay can shut up and please someone FIRE LOVEY!!!! I can't take it anymore. Gotta go...second half starting, gonna go watch Jay throw well and the Bears win and listen to everyone wonder what happen to Brett, talk about how cold it is and forget that the Bears suck and Lovey couldn't develop a bad cold, let alone a football player!

Getting Away

2009-12-27T20:41:00.003-06:00

The day after Christmas my husband and I left our kids with my mother for 24 hours and went on a "staycation"...getting away for the first time in 6 months!! It was amazing to have the time to talk and remember why we liked each other, to eat meals uninterrupted, and to sleep as late as we want, then drink fancy room service coffee, then go back to sleep!
Thanks to good friend we were treated to very fancy 5 star hotel room, with amazing view of snowy city, huge bath tub for two...perfect for drinking champagne!! Thank you CR for the use of your discount, the champagne, the sushi, and your friendship...you rule and we can't wait to cuddle your soon-to-be-new-born so you and wife can enjoy a night out or just a shower!

Headlines

2009-12-16T12:16:00.005-06:00

Standing in line at the grocery today I scanned the "headlines" of the magazines and newspapers... "Tiger Still In Hiding"...can you blame him? At this point with a new lover coming forward everyday what is he suppose to say? The only thing that could get him a shred of sympathy would be to go into rehab as sex addict and that's only sympathy from men. While I'm on the subject of Tiger, the Today show was having a full blown news story covered by 3 reporters, plus then a panel of "experts" at prime news time (7:30 am) to talk about where he is, why isn't he coming forward to "clear things up" and what this all means for his career. Well, lets see I think he's not coming forward to clear things up because he's got nothing to say. He cheated. He knows he's busted and there's no going back. He's asked for privacy...MOVE ON! The only thing I heard this morning that made sense was when wondering why no friend had given comment some "expert" on celebrity explained that that was the difference between team sports and individual sports...no one is going to stand up for you, the other members of the PGA tour aren't his teammates, they're his competitors and between you and me they are probably thinking "great, maybe someone else now has a chance to win".

Back to headlines..."Sandra Bullock Fights For Custody of Step Daughter"...now she's married to Jesse James and his daughters mother is porn star...I always know Sandy had white trash potential.

Chicago Magazines "98 Great Things To Do"...why not 100? I find Chicago Magazine so half-assed. Especially their "food critics"...one is a caddy man with no style (what's the point in being caddy if you have no style!!) and a woman so old and so pinched, her face looks like a cats butt*...not pretty. They don't hide the fact of who they are, they take comps, special tables, gifts...plus the fact that Ms. Cat Bottom sometimes gets insider information while lunching/gossiping with her girlfriends.

"Will Kendra lose The Baby Weight??"...Kendra from "Girls Next Door" had a baby a week ago there's talk of will she or won't she get back to her Playboy weight! Jesus, give a woman some time! That kind of thing is why young girls are puking and women one week home from giving birth are wondering how they went from pregnant to just fat and what to do about it!

On a happy note, 8 year old went back to school today...and I was able to spend time with 3 year old and finished up a great deal of Christmas shopping...looking forward to Christmas cocktails with the girls tomorrow night with my new sparkly silver top and then hopefully getting some snow, so now that kids are feeling better we can do some winter activities!

*Full credit of the "cat butt" term goes to MKS...a caddy man who has more style than most people would know how to handle!

Day 4!

2009-12-14T11:53:00.005-06:00

So we still have the flu...both kids and me. I hate when the kids are sick...not only because it's hard on me, but because they are so sad. They've both had awful fevers, aches, chills, congestion...me too, but when you have kids you have to take care of them, and there's no one to take care of you! Especially when your husband has worked 80 hours in the past week and has worked the entire time we've been sick! Good times! I thought we were all on the mend, but 8 year old can't seem to keep the fever consistently down. I had hoped at some point this week they would go back to school, but it looks doubtful...which means since this Friday begins Christmas break I will be with them everyday for 3 weeks! Yikes! That and Christmas...? Are you kidding me? Thank goodness for Peapod! Just got the delivery I scheduled last night. Have you ever noticed how nicely everything is packaged? Or how you ask or 4 green bananas and 4 yellow bananas and that's EXACTLY what you get? All the produce is SO much nicer than what's in the grocery...and bigger too! Crazy. I got promo discount, used coupons and searched for sales while making order, plus didn't have to bundle up two sick kids and drive to grocery and then make 10 trips in house from car by myself...totally worth it! I know this is all very boring!

There are other things popping around my brain...like the amounts of drugs I've given my kids in past few days...not to stop fever but make them more comfortable while fever runs its course...the number of times I've made Chamomile tea for them...how badly I smelled yesterday before I took that needed shower...how I am so NOT finished Christmas shopping and now with them possibly out of school until the big day I will have no way to get it all done...which brings to back to hubby working every damn day with no days off until New Years! Arrrghhh!!!!

I discovered this great new blog (every one's got one!) about being divorced by the time you're 30...which I was too. Not proud, but not ashamed. Funny how years go by and if I let myself think about it I can figure out more I did right, or did wrong, or just did that I wish I could undo! I was totally not ready for marriage. I had no idea what it was, or what it was suppose to be...never having lived with working example of good one! So at 23 when I thought I was really in love, it seemed like a good move...and I can't even say how I wished someone would have tried to talk me out of it, because that wouldn't have worked...I've never been that person you could talk out of stuff. So while sitting around our Christmas tree a week before Christmas drinking coffee one morning we "decided" to get married...he didn't ask formally and I didn't care (I'd been through the whole one knee, big diamond, proposal a few years before that with someone else...that was the guy who had the "sexual encounter with a man", while we were engaged...haven't I written about that yet? Oh well, all good things!)...anyway, we decided to get married Christmas eve in our condo with just a judge and our families there. Long story short, we pulled it together, had very sweet little wedding by candle light and Christmas tree glow and one week later he hit me across the face. Super! Well live and learn! It took me 3 years to leave, but moving out that day to a small apartment by myself was one of my finest moments.
Wow! Tangent from hell! Anyway, bad to sick kids now. Don't worry soon I'll relive the whole "I'm not gay, but I let another man stroke me" story! It's a good one!

Sick and Tired

2009-12-11T09:54:00.002-06:00

When you have kids to go to bed each night with the quiet thought of "what if they wake up?" Especially when your kids are old enough where they should be sleeping through the night, you take it for granted...you stay up late, drink too much wine and then you're blasted by the crying or nightmares or sickness. Now you never want to speak your fear, or jinx it by saying what great sleepers your kids are or how they never get sick.
With my kids, who are great sleepers, never wake up unless to pee and even then they do it themselves and go right back down...its been a bad few weeks of nightmares, wetness, and last night was both kids waking up with fevers! I can touch my kids backs and know within a half a degree what their temperature is...last night was not too bad, but they both needed comforting and medicine. It made for a long night and changed all our plans for today...which including school for one and play date of other. I had Christmas shopping to do, plus we had sleepover tonight with family friends. But that's the deal, right? Our plans change do to the kids needs...
Of course now that its morning they feel fine and we are cuddled up watching "Charlie Brown Christmas"...I can think of worse things on a cold day! As long as they don't fight, or slam doors, or ask me what we're doing next, or want to play in the cold basement, or want to go outside, or want to get the paint or playdoh out, or drive me crazy...if none of that happens we'll be fine! Pray for me!

Lost

2009-12-08T10:07:00.002-06:00

It's snowing out today and I'm reminded of spending hours and hours outside as kid, playing in the snow. Our backyard was very wooded and I'd make forts out of snow and pretend for hours that I was in the middle of nowhere wandering through the woods. I'd use leaves for flags and sticks for gates. I'd make "dinner" with melted snow and eat ice. I was thick with my coat, snow pants, boots, hat, mittens, scarf...but my work would make me feel warm and my cheeks would be red from the cold, but my hands sweaty. The yard seemed large, too large to be seen by neighbors or my mom, who was inside. The winter quiet was peaceful and welcome. No bikes going past my house, or kids laughing, no pools or parties...just silence of snow and ice. The world in my head was huge, but I did feel small. After hours and hours I'd head in....to pee and warm up. My mom would make toast with butter and cocoa. She'd cut the toast into stripes of three and I would dip it into the cocoa...so good and warm. Inside there would be Barry Manilow or Queen playing on the 8 track...sounds of my childhood.

I haven't written in quite a while. Not sure why. Busy. Sad. Holiday season getting to me. I'm loving the snow though...and the silence. I want to take long drive...look out onto the cold lake and barren trees. I make fires everyday at home and drink cocoa with the kids. S'mores! I sit and listen to the laughter upstairs, look and the Christmas tree, the snow outside and remember the silence of the woods.
I put small Christmas trees in the kids rooms, so they could fall asleep to the twinkly lights. I make them toast and cocoa.

Work

2009-11-10T19:33:00.009-06:00

I'm idle. I was so close. Close to being used, being good, being able. It was two days of talking and having listeners. It's always amazing how fast your skills come back...muscle memory. To explain to you late comers, I was hired to consult on new restaurant...hired for my skill, though not used that often anymore. Since becoming mother I've had a few consulting gigs...its great to get in, get out and while I'm in totally rock it. Oh well, wasn't meant to be. This one wasn't meant to be because they weren't able to pay be what I'm worth and when I work I'm all in...I eat, sleep, and bleed a project. So putting my kids on the back burner during the holidays has a price.

I love opening restaurants. Everyone in the business should do it at least once...to see it go from paper, to the moment the first guest walks in, to the moment the review comes out...awesome. I helped open a place in NYC called Fleur de Sel. It was great...crazy, painful hard work but oh so good. I first saw the space totally raw, empty and void of food, life and while I listened to the chef tell me his thoughts and concept for the place I was thinking, "really? Is this going to work?". I spent the next month moving tables and chairs, hiring staff, training staff, tasting food and wine, scrubbing toilets, and going home in crying pain. We opened and I thought it was like the island of misfit toys having people for dinner...totally flawed and unprepared. But then the next night came and the next came and the next; it got better and better...never easier, but felt more natural to have people in this space that was once where you sat and looked at empty walls. Now, I was one of the very few people in New York who knew what the food critic for the NY Times, William Grimes, looked like. So when he walked in one night I was freaked out and crazy excited...we'd only been open one month, holy crap, could we pull this off? I quietly told the chef and proceeded to totally rock at what I do. Now you could call it cheating, but it's not my fault I knew who he was...I'd worked for a very prominent chef, Alain Ducasse, and one day William Grimes came to lunch and someone was kind enough to pass along this very valuable piece of information to me! I breathed a sigh of relief when he left that night, but instantly felt the anxiety of wondering what he thought...was all our and my hard work going to be praised or rejected. My fears were eased when the fact checker from the Times called and said that since the review was "good" she'd send over copy of it the night before...well it was not "good", it was a fucking love letter! Plus the next day when I ran to the news stand to see for myself I was shocked and my ego was ecstatic to open the paper and find a huge picture of ME next to the review! It was great...my first opening had been a success.

Everybody needs a few "claims to fame" and in my industry it doesn't get much better than that...it wouldn't have meant nearly as much coming from another critic, but from William Fucking Grimes? Awesome! My other two moments of feeling like I was actually good at my job are the time Thomas Matthews from Wine Spectator was on his tour of American restaurants and not only gave the place I worked at the "Best Restaurant in the U.S." honor, but told me I was the best "server" he'd ever had in the U.S. (not in the dirty way RE)...the other moment was being hand picked and hired by Alain Ducasse to become the first ever female captain in the history of his restaurants. To shake his hand everyday when you came to work was pretty cool.

Well, now that I've stroked my own ego for the night I can feel better about sitting here feeling fat, sad, idle, unloved, unused and completely worthless. I guess I didn't realize how much I wanted to work again...crap.

Snot Puller

2009-11-04T11:27:00.004-06:00

One of the many glamorous things I do as a mother is suck the snot out of my kids noses. The 8 year old will not let me any where near his nose...too many years of me pulling snot and picking it so he could breathe has made it now impossible to convince him it's for his own good! But I still has nose control over the 3 year old and with his cold right now in full force the small turkey baster looking "snot puller" is the perfect solution! We used it a bunch when the boys were babies...I can remember watching hubby use it with such skill...funny that he was good with the baster and doing the "burrito fold" with the blankets, gee maybe he should be a cook!
Anyway for anyone having a baby and hmmm maybe even a cook, I recommend they add the little "snot puller" onto any registry or go ahead and pick a few up...you'll need it!
As long as I'm handing out parenting advice I will add to the list of things you'll need...1) crib sheets; you need at least 5 and buy more than one crib mattress pad. Believe me when your kid pees or spits up at night you want to just grab clean ones and not mess with towels or regular bed sheets! 2) Bottles and formula...even if you're planning for sure that you (or wife) will breast feed. Nursing is sometimes very difficult and for some women is frustrating, and extremely time consuming and can contribute to PPD, due to lack of sleep and not feeling "good enough" to do something you feel should be "natural". Have a "bottle plan" in place. Know what kind of formula you would use and pick out a good bottle, have them washed and ready to go. At 4 months my milk came to complete halt! It was the middle of the night and I drove to grocery, alone, crying, trying to (for the first time) figure out what kind of formula to get and ended up picking out the worst bottle ever! To me it's no different than your "birth plan" being natural and then things happen and you end up taking some drugs or having a c-section...things change and more so with your first baby you have to be ready to roll with the punches and be ready for anything. Last piece of advice is...ASK FOR HELP! Our first baby was colic and cried everyday from 4pm to 11pm for 3 months...yeah, good times! With hubby working nights this offered me 6 nights of NO relief or help...just crying, from son and me! I look back and think why the hell didn't I ask for more help?!! At the time you think, I can take it or I don't want to trouble anyone...but now I realize I needed the help and I should have troubled some people! I hope that if a friend of mine now had a baby and needed help or needed a break from the crying or just needed a night out, that hubby and I make awesome babysitters...and since we can't have more kids it gives us that "baby fix" we sometimes need!

The Little Red Book

2009-10-29T20:53:00.005-05:00

I rule. So besides being hott for my age, giving it up everyday and being basically a super-full-service wife, I gave my husband the sweetest gift. NO, not the small-mute-Asian-girl, or the life-time subscription to the Playboy Channel...OK, here's the whole story...So my dear sweet husband HATES it when I (or anyone) buy him clothes. He kindly, after years, told me he would prefer to buy his own things...no problem. However, his interests are cooking and music and since picking out these things myself would mean him standing in line at the return aisle, that would leave gift cards...no way, dumb as hell (not for everyone, just the spouses). So, after years of stupid gifts that he gently put in the back of the closet or out and out returned, I came up with an idea...give him NOTHING! Genius! No, not really. So here's what I did. Right after Christmas when everything goes on sale I went to book store and bought a small, leather bound, blank book. It was dark, rich looking red leather and had the word "LOVE" on it...perfect. So a few days later, on January 1st I wrote on the first page...I wrote why I loved him, not in general, but specifically on that day. Then the next day I did the same thing...and the next day and the next...until it was the next years Christmas and the book was filled with 365 reasons, one for each day. Then I wrapped it and gave it to him. I have to say the look on his face and the tears in his eyes said it all. It had been a year of change and struggle in our relationship. I was pregnant at the start of the year, gave birth in March, then spent the summer in deep-sad-suicidal-crying-on-the-floor-post-pardum depression, which my husband single handedly got me through with his love and patience and the deep understanding only he could have for me. So as we looked back and read the pages of this little bound book we were reminded of the sweet rubbing my big belly times and the scared moments of walking into the NICU for now our second time with our second sick child...to moments of pure love and clarifying fear. It was all good. A lifetime in a year and all on paper to remember each day. After I gave it to him I would catch him looking at it, sometimes all at once and sometimes by day, matching the day for the year before, remembering when. We still look at it...it stays with us always. If it were music it would be the soundtrack of that year...sometimes sounding dated but you can still remember the feeling of standing in those shoes, feeling those feelings and saying those words. I love it ...that pause was me patting myself on the back. Just kidding...kind of. It will go down (he says) as his favorite gift I've ever given him.
Mine would have to be from our first Christmas together, 10 years ago...we were living in Manhattan and had no money, but he gave me this "Mason-Pearson" hair brush...(it's this fancy-schmansy brand of hair brushes made in England that he bought at this cute shop on the Upper East Side) and a Walt Whitman book...very romantic and each morning I look at the hair brush (for those who know me well, know I rarely use it or any brush for that matter)...but I see it and remember the love, and the patience and sweet way only he could love me...and I remember that each day I love him for new, sometimes the same, and different reasons.
So yes, I rule, bully for me... I finally, if just for one year, came up with good idea! Feel free to use it! It was sometimes a labor of love to remember each day to hide the book, write in the book, re-hide the book, keep hiding it and remember even on the days he'd piss me off or I was crying on the floor, to write in it. But now it goes in the pile of things we would grab in a fire. It takes such small effort to make someone happy...to show them you love them and after years of thinking and shopping and returning gifts, that's all it took...one little book and 365 days of remembering the little things.

Multi Tasker Bad Ass

2009-10-29T15:35:00.003-05:00

Multi tasking is something I hear people say all the time...mostly women. Brag much?
Men never seem to say the things they did today, or how big their list of "to-dos" is or how much "multi-tasking" they can do...why is that? Is it the passive-aggressive competitive nature of women? Justify much? When was the last time a man came home huffing and puffing listing off the details of his day...while women will list each thing they did with a tone like she's listing off the steps in a brain surgery. Well whatever it is, the term "multi-tasking" is way over used. To me it's like walking and talking...duh, I can do that too! Texting while driving doesn't count. Talking on the phone while zipping kids coat doesn't count. My husbands idea of multi tasking is overseeing a restaurant with 75 employees, cooking dinner for 500, while organizing a private dinner for 50, and a banquet for 200 and planning tomorrow's lunch for 350 and the dinner for 500 and the next day and the next day, while keeping his boss happy, his boss's boss happy, the owner happy, his employees happy, all the while getting texts and emails and calls from crazy wife reminding him of the home schedule; the cub scouts, the piano class, the school conferences, the fact that I need him to hurry home because I may start beating the children soon and so on. My claim to fame of multi tasking is the time I talked on the phone while inserting tampon while breast feeding! One more difference between the "worker" and the "stay at home"!

The History of The Skid Mark

2009-10-27T20:58:00.003-05:00

Boys are gross...you know you are. Little boys start to smell around age 6. Sweet baby smell is gone and is replaced by ass-crack-smell. You wash them, you shower them, you sit them down and embarrass them by telling them how important it is to wipe their butt, wash it, and always put the "dirty" clothes in the basket...but the ass crack smell abounds. I'm sometimes shocked and amazed by the smell. The unmistakable ass crack smell...the way it lingers, and NOT in a good way. I hardly ever "check" anymore, it just goes right to the laundry. When I first starting dating...well, more like living with and sleeping with and doing boys laundry, I was shocked by what I'd find...Did all men have underwear that looked as though they'd been ill at some point of the day? Who were these awful mothers who never taught their boys to wipe? Wow, thank goodness when I had sons they'd be clean and never leave anything behind...so to speak. Yeah right!
Now I've wondered if it is the difference is men and women? Young girls are taught the strong importance of the wipe. The technique, the direction, the number of squares to use, and the value of the wet wipe. We have other important things down there...good reasons to keep the area clean. Do we value our "valuables" more than you, men? Are we so freaked out by the stories of UTI's, Yeast infections, and other "roaming bacteria" that we spend more time than you making sure we work efficiently?
I'm not sure the reason but you boys do a sorry ass (had to) job down there. With my son I'm mostly disappointed with myself...I thought for sure I could end this cycle of messy pants, but no such luck...my 8 year old has ass-crack-smell. I spent time with him teaching him the proper use of soap. I spoke to him honestly about the "rash" and the uncomfortable feeling, but it's too late...it's happened. "ACS". It's not pretty. I still have the 3 year old! Maybe I can put a stop to it, but I doubt it. It seems as though I'm fighting a battle I can't win. I will just continue to "check", to passive-aggressively ask "hey, wash all your parts?"...and remember that with two bathrooms we need two containers of wet wipes at all times!

It's The Little Things...

2009-10-18T12:00:00.004-05:00

Someone believes in me. Someone who doesn't know me. Doesn't know my family, my kids, my past...my struggles and pain...nothing. He sees an ability that is in me and encourages me to use it. Sadly, with all my years in ballet I'd never felt this level of encouragement...ballet was discouraging at best, never feeling good enough, thin enough, and knowing that I was doing it for the wrong reasons. It's amazing how this has changed things. It makes me feel good, happy. I haven't had this in awhile. You lose it when you're home with kids for years and years. Yes, on those hard days when your baby is crying or sick and you're tired and don't think you can go on, I've been lucky to have FC to push me through, tell me I can do it and that I'm a great mother. But pushing yourself to do the right thing and care for your children isn't the same as feeling that you can do something...something for yourself, something that only has to do with you, no one else. You forget that feeling and you lose that if you...yes, I'm going to say it, work outside the home. There. I said it. I've known all these years that working would have at times cured some of my feelings of worthlessness or loneliness, but being home full time is something we decided and have felt really good about. That hasn't changed...but to go outside my kids, outside being "mom", and see that I can feel fulfilled...wow, no words can describe how that feels. So now that I have the thing, the person and the feeling it's just moving it into my life...making it work with the kids, affording it and not throwing up!

My Nightime Journeys

2009-10-13T23:25:00.006-05:00

My memories of being eight and nine are funny...some are clear, like watching the same movie in my head over and over...and others are like looking back on a night of heavy drinking...blurry and parts of it feel like someone else.
Those were the years I was being molested. It's long, and painful and I try to forget. I can not.
I try and remember being at home...what did I do? Who was I?
I remember one thing...I was a little girl who would climb out my window onto the garage. I would sit and hold tight, crawling out to the farthest point...and when I would get to the edge I would open my arms, feel the cold night air and try to fly away.

No Trades

2009-10-06T17:26:00.004-05:00

I love the fact that my 8 year old asks to be excused from the table and puts his plate on the counter. I love that he, at this point, needs no help with his homework and when I go to check it he’s done the weeks worth. I love that in the morning when I go to his room he has turned off his radio (from having it on all night), emptied his water cup, and gotten dressed. After he’s dressed he goes down and gets his own breakfast…this morning I was running late trying to get ready for “work” and he got his little brother breakfast too! He does not spill the milk and he puts it away when he’s done. He puts the bowl in the sink when he’s finished and he gets his vitamins.
If I ask him to take out the trash or empty the dishwasher he knows what to do and does it completely. I was trying to save time and water by having him shower with his little brother only to realize he wants his privacy and does not need my help anymore. When I know he’s in the bathroom pooping I hear the flush and the washing of his hands…then I go in the there’s no mess, no towel on the floor, or water all over the mirror.
He asks how my day was and knows when it was bad and says sorry. He knows what clothes he likes and how long he likes his hair. After good night kisses he reads in his bed and when he’s done turns the light off and goes right to sleep and sleeps all night, waking up promptly at 7:00 am. I hear him pee sometimes in the middle of the night and want so badly to help him back to bed, maybe getting a cuddle along the way…but he does not need it. He's ready in the morning, at the door shoes tied, coat on...though I always have to remind him to go get his lunch out of the fridge and put it in his back pack.
He answers the phone politely, knows the emergency info for the sitters and never acts badly because he thinks he can.
All of this is great and I’m torn between feeling sad and proud that he’s listened and learned and most times does not try to play the “kid card” by not doing the things I ask him to do…its great to ask him once or twice and not need to ask again. I know other parents who are not so lucky. Don't get me wrong there are still things he struggles with...using his shirt as a napkin, chewing with his mouth open and other things I'm sure 8 year old boys are famous for.
These things are wonderful when I remember how he's changed...how he's grown from the little boy who didn't speak, didn't smile, didn't answer questions and who I wondered if would go to a "normal" school. Though I'm sad. He's growing up and hardly needs me and its going to get worse...or better, depending on how you think about it!
He's sweet. So sweet he lets the neighbor kids grab his new Nerf Blaster on the pretence of playing then runs off to play with the other neighbor kid...leaving my 8 year old to play with the little girls. When I ask him if that bothers him, he says no. He tears up when you hug him or say sweet things...or the "Pure Michigan" commercial comes on the radio...because as he says "we love Michigan, don't we Mom."
As I write this he's running around trying to find just the right paper to make his brother a "congratulations certificate" for doing a great job on his handwriting homework! His little brother is 3 there is NO WAY he's going to appreciate the certificate! I 'm thinking laundry and bringing me coffee in bed is next!
Now, I love all this and think he's a great kid...but would I trade it all for a kid who didn't have a complete and utter emotional breakdown when the frozen pizza falls on the floor? Maybe.