Moving Day

A new blog.

The fork in the road.
They come up right?
I'm at one.
So I'm going towards the sun.
Cause it's what I worship.
Besides Sugary Nativity sets.
If you want to know where, e mail me.
If not.
See ya later.
xoxo

The Owl And the Pussycat, I Mean Duck. Or Whatever

Saige and I saw an owl today. I believe all bird of prey sightings are auspicious. I could ramble on and on about the moments in my life that an eagle has flown over me. Hawks are rather common around us. When my little Pomeranian (alien) was a puppy they used to circle him while my two German Shepherds would run around barking and going ballistic. So I don't take every hawk sighting as a sign, it's just a not so gentle reminder that sweet little bunnies and small fluffy aliens should probably beware. Perhaps I should take them a little more seriously...

Owls aren't as easy to come by. They are night creatures so to see them during the day is special in it's own right. Saige and I were driving to pick up her friend. All of the sudden she said very excitedly, "There's an owl on that dress!" I turned and saw one of those big metal towers that did actually look like a dress and right on one of the bars was a beautiful white headed owl with the lightest brown wings. It was so cool. I did a very quick, very illegal turn and tossed Saige my camera. She ran out in the freezing cold in a short sleeve shirt and these weird fluffy moccasins she wears and went to take it's picture. She moved a little to fast and it flew away. Although we were a little bummed it was beautiful to watch.

There are many thoughts on owl sightings. It is said that an owl sighting is like a gift being given to you. It is said that you can only come across animals with the same energy as you in that moment so the timing of seeing one of these birds means something special. Owls also show themselves at as a sign of warning. They are very perceptive and are a reminder for you to be aware too. To be conscious of the people around you. To remember that not everyone is what you think they are. To be careful.

I was the most trusting of people. This past year as given me a whole new perception of human nature. This Monday night was the light switch for me. It was the day I realized that some people are just out for themselves. I had seen it coming but kept pushing it off. I didn't listen to my friends and family or myself for that matter. I believed and trusted in the good I felt must be deep down. It was sad letting that go for good. It was sad realizing that there was no turning back. Some things can't be undone.
So seeing that owl, and especially having my very wise Saige be the one to point it out meant a lot to me. Especially this week, in this time of my life.
To me it is like the quote at the top of my blog. "There are two people inside of me- me and my intuition. If I go against her, she'll screw me every time, if I follow her, we get along quite nicely." -Kim Basinger
Listen to your intuition.
You always know.
If it look likes a duck, and smells like a duck, it must be a duck.
It's certainly not an owl.

Owls are special. Ducks, not so much.

Maybe You Can Help...

I realize that I can be slightly odd. I have quirks. I tend not to notice them until they are brought to my attention. I had a friend raise a few questions about my life. I am wondering if you guys could help...

A List Of Mysteries...

1. What IS Mickey?
2. Why doesn't Amy know anything about Philadelphia?
3. Does the oven work?
4. Who really fought at the Battle of Chester Creek?
5. Why wasn't Lisa at lunch today?
6. How many nativity sets are there in West Chester?
7. How does Lucy always get into the food and garbage?
8. Seriously, what is Mickey?
9. How did I get out of moving the big chair from Meredith's house?
10. Does Saige love her new pony?
11. What is Jason thinking when he has to hold Sue's hair back?
12. Why does Amy have to rub Chipolte in my face by making me drive by it all the time?
13. Who's ashes are in those urns and I am next?
14. Does Nancy believe Amy really "forgot" to make the salad?
15. Why are there so many toothbrushes?
16. What would happen if I knocked over the Christmas tree at Oriental Pearl?
17. What does mangry mean?
18. If the pilgrims fought the indians at the Battle of Chester Creek then who was in the bloody Battle of Ridley Creek?
19. How ever will Amy get to Rachel's to get her hair done?
20. Why does she think my messenger bag is a murse and would it hurt very much to be hit with it?
21. Why do so many people discriminate against the Beige race?
22. How has Amy never lost a mirror backing into the garage?
23. Why bother having water bowls for the dogs when the toilet bowls seem to be working just fine?
24. Speaking of dogs (allegedly) what the hell IS Mickey?
25. If all Christmas trees were pink, would Amy want a green one?

But Mom, I Love Him

Thank God it's not Saige saying that...yet.

For now it's a friend of mine. A very dear, a very sweet, a very wonderful friend. Her tales of dating though, frankly, just scare me. She actually has a blog where she gives a play by play of the freaks (no offense honey) that she dates. It is astonishing. Number one, she is beautiful, not in a way of, "Oh, my friend is beautiful." She is flat out gorgeous. She's a yoga teacher for Gods sake. That has to count for something. She is young, only thirty. Remember thirty? No? Oh well, who the hell wants to be thirty anyway? Okay, back on track. She is newly divorced and dating for the first time in over ten years.

There are a host of kooky contenders. There is the guy she she had the two most perfect dates in her life with but then just disappeared basically. We refer to him as "Summer Breeze." From then on she no longer would date men with two nipple rings and/or a Vespa. There was the really nice guy that ended up having a secret love child with his nanny. That's fun! Then there was the guy that made awful smells on date one. Oh the list goes on and on.

My all time favorite is the most recent though. When she first met him she was describing him to me. Good looking, check, divorced, check, five kids, ch... "Wait! I'm sorry, did you say five kids?"
"Well, only three of him are biologically his, but he loves the other two like they are," she explained.
"Dump him," I instructed.
"What? I really like him, we have a connection," she said so dreamily it almost broke my heart.
"Yeah, whatever. Dump. His. Ass," I said, this time much more sternly.
"But Amy, I think this could be the one," she pleaded.
"He's got five kids. I don't care how great he is. You need to dump him or buy a mini van for when it's YOUR weekend. I don't see that happening so let's just end this now and get rid of him," I said again, very harshly, but she expects that from me.

Fast forward to now, four weeks later. It's not working out. He has a host of other issues, not even pertaining to his half a soccer team. It has been a bit of a roller coaster but the tell tale sign was when he suddenly listed his Facebook status as "Complicated." That's pretty much the kiss of death. So yesterday she was waiting for him to come over so they could officially break up. I for one, was thrilled. I don't mean to sound like a bitch but five kids is way to many to take on. It's seems stupid, unless you have five of your own, a dog named Tiger and a slave named Alice.
I was kind (just so you know Billy!) and I said, "It's okay Honey, you'll meet someone else." And that's when those words came. The words that I am so dreading to hear from my very own twelve year old daughter in a few years, although I know inevitable when she is talking about some guy who is just soooo wrong. "But Mommmmmm, I really LOVE him..."
Uh, yeah.

Pink Eye Is the New Blue Eye (And A Dead Cat)

Or at least for me it is. Which sucks. I don't think I have ever had pink eye before. It's odd that I don't like it given my affinity for the color pink but I find that I really dislike it. Billy, is it something you would like or dislike?

My friend Lisa and I went to a training for this really cool circus stuff to teach kids up in New York City. It was a lovely studio but I am quite sure some little rug rat had pink eye and smooshed it all over the place and then I touched it and inadvertently rubbed my eye and voila! Pink eye for Amy. I of course didn't understand last night why my eyes were tearing so much. I thought it was because Lisa's husband told a very funny story over the phone that made me laugh so hard that I thought my kids could hear me back in PA.

Lisa had the flu.
We were quite an attractive couple while we hunted and gathered through Union Square this afternoon...

It was about 33 degrees and we were all bundled up while we walked around looking for interesting things. We found the coolest jewelry. And anyone who knows us knows that shiny objects can stop us dead in our tracks. These objects were particularly fetching. I saw a necklace with all these little charms on it. One charm was a little switchblade. I know it sounds weird, but it was so cool, man. I called Lisa over (who was desperately in need of something cool cause she had just purchased the four dorkiest doll jewelry holders that I have ever seen, she actually let me lose her at the street fair for a few minutes cause she didn't want me to see her buying them, knowing what my reaction would be.

So I said, "Lisa, come over here. Look at this stuff. You're gonna love it."
Then, this very cool looking character with the best accent says, "I made that all. Is all my work." (that r in work was totally rolled with his Spanish accent). Lisa got all bright eyed and bushy tailed suddenly. "That necklace is so cool, but I don't think you could get on a airplane with it though." She was referring to the little knife "charm".
"Oh yes you could, " says the killer accent, "You just close it up, see, (as he demonstrates) like a switch blade and you tell no one!."
Lisa was sold!
"What does it say on the back of that other charm?" I asked.
"Is from a song I wrote, it sayz, 'if you ever loved me like you did a dead cat I would still rather be with someone that looked like you.'"
This just keeps getting better. I don't even get that but I don't think I could possibly love it anymore.
Lisa was completely mesmerized.
She bought the necklace.
She just better not put it anywhere near that gay ( I mean straight) jewelry holder.

Pleased with ourselves we decided to move on to Barbounia for one last bit of baba ganoush before we headed home. On the way there we got to see a part of a Matt Damon movie being filmed on 6th Ave. All the extras and the movie guys and a little chase scene, we thought.

It was a good day! Pink eye, the flu, a dead cat, and all.

Pink Is the New Green

I love fake Christmas trees. It's the truth. I'll be the first to admit it. I have one that I have had for like 6 years. I think I vaguely remember writing about it before. We call it the Charlie Brown Christmas tree. That's what it reminds me of. I love it so much I can barely stand it. Every year, the day after Thanksgiving I drag it up from the basement. The branches scrap the walls on the way up. Usually I forget it is in three different parts and inevitably one falls off along the way. I have to take a rest in the foyer and revaluate how I am going to smoosh it through the door way. Then I have to straighten out the branches and string it up with lights.
It's a tradition.
So I did that. It's up. It's decorated with pretty white lights and only Santa ornaments because I decided a few years ago that is how it should be and I can be slightly psychotic about projects.

However. This year I got a new idea. I saw this beautiful white Christmas tree in a beautiful store in a beautiful place and decided that I was bored with my Charlie Brown Christmas tree. I decided I wanted a hot pink Christmas tree. I love hot pink.

Saige and her friend Becky and I hit many stores trying to find a hot pink tree. No luck, Chuck. Then while we were in New York we saw one in a store and Saige and Chase ran in to ask how much it was. Not for sale. So sad.

So I just spray painted a little one that I already had. I decided to love it. Still, I longed for a fluffy hot pink tree.

Fortunately for me, apparently Saige is even more relentless than me. She called her father. She put him on a mission. She told him he could get any old tree and they would just paint it. It was so simple. He bought a 4 ft. green one and found that no amount of spray would ever really make it pink. They had to trash it. Poor fake green tree. That's what you get for being green.

Finally they found a light pink one. On a secret mission they brought it to our house. She made sure I was safely tucked inside while she sprayed it hot pink. She got so excited spraying it that Marc ended up with a hot pink arm.

She ushered me with closed eyes outside. She was so proud. It already had lights attached! It was like the angels were singing a song from above. It was the sweetest thing ever. I love it way better than some big fluffy real pine tree that would tip over and stain my rug with it's water and would drop pine needles all over the floor and then be a hassle to get outside.
No tree had to die for my happiness. Well, actually a fake tree did.

And Then She Was Twelve...

Time flies.
Years pass by like seconds.
My daughter is my height.
Last night she told me she didn't like the middle name I gave her.
I told her she could change it.
We looked up online how to change a child's name legally.
Don't call her Saige Delaney anymore. Call her Saige Love (for now).
I don't argue with her.
I know better than that.
I call her Saige Love.
I love her.
Unconditionally.
With all my heart.
She just showed me her phone screen saver.
It says, "I'm a lover not a fighter but I'll fight for what I love."
Yes.
All day, everyday.
She has always gotten "it."
I love her.
And admire her.
She has the kindest soul I have ever had the good fortune of knowing.
She shines like a star.
I'm not just saying that cause she is mine.
Ask anyone.
I love her.
In yoga there is a saying you say at the end of every practice, "The light in me recognizes the light in you."
I can actually see the light in her.
Every single day.
She understands right from wrong.
She stands up for what she believes in.
She does not back down.
Eleven years and eleven months ago I was in the hospital in labor with her.
She is still eleven now.
Not much longer.
Things seemed so much simpler then.
I have never been thankful for anything more than that night.
Every second of it.
And the next morning.
Cause she chose me.
My little girl.
My daughter.
Is twelve.
Oh dear.
Mom, this is your fault.

A Stick A Butta, A Quart A Milk and A Loaf A Bread

Well, really just the milk. You would think by the number of times I have recited this Fat Albert quote I might have learned something. If you can't learn from Fat Albert you better pray for School House Rock. I really thought I did learn but I seem to have spaced out some apparently relatively simple information.
This is how it went down.
There was no organic fat free milk left at Target which went right up my ... my something or other. I was suitably annoyed by this and figured I would leave there and go straight to the grocery store and just get it. But in the twelve hours I had been in Target grocery shopping it had started freezing rain. My fingers were already tingling because they had lost all the blood in them and I was in the need of some hot water. The grocery store was going to have to wait.

Fast forward to after picking up Saige (twice) at lip sync practice. Don't even get me started on how many required practices there are for lip sync, that's a whole other blog post.
We still needed milk. We decided to go to Swiss Farms, Swiss Farms is a drive through market. It is genius. So we get to the drive through and the guy comes out all friendly.
"Would you like to see the specials?" Swiss Farm guy asks.
"No thanks. Do you have fat free organic milk?" I ask.
"I've got organic milk and I've got fat free milk but I don't have organic fat free milk," he says.
"Okay, just give me the small container of fat free," I say.
"We have it in a quart and a gallon," he says.
"Okay great, give me the small one," I repeat.
"The quart or the gallon?" he says again. (What is up with this guy???)
"Whichever one is smaller," I say stupidly.
"The quart?" he asks while he looks at me like I have three heads.
"I guess so," my fingers are cold. Just give me the god damn milk. God.
Saige groans in the back seat, "He's gonna think you're an idiot!" she says.
"I think that ship has sailed, Baby," I say.
"How could you not know which is smaller?" she looks at me like she can't believe it.
"I don't know. I told him I wanted the littler one. I don't know why he had to keep questioning me!"
"God Mom."
Right?
At least I'm not Darrin.

Hide, Seek, and Some Housewives

This weeks Sunday adventure was a delicious home made dinner of sushi and pizza with the gorgeous Asude, her very sportsy husband Jason and lovely daughter Jade.

There was a big game of hide and seek going on. I love to watch games from the outside. Each kid was so different in the game to see what part of people's personality comes out. Jade was the seeker a lot, she was good natured about it and didn't cheat when she was counting, she over looked some of the really sneaky spots in the beginning but never gave up and eventually would find them. Saige was a really good hider. She was barely ever the seeker. She would find the most clever spots and then move after the seeker had been in that room. Wiley little rascal. Now Chase, Chase was a good hider on his own but after he saw Saige's spots he would give them a try. He sometimes counted a little to quickly and in the end, when Jade couldn't find Saige he made sure she did. Hmmm... personality or sibling rivalry? Or just pesky little brother?

Every Sunday night Chase and I snuggle up and watch Desperate Housewives together. He really likes that show! He knows all the plot lines and the characters. Every once in a while we might miss a part and he has questions. This is what watching tv with him is like.
"Why are they both in Jail?"
"Who do you think attacked Julie?"
"Can you flip someone like that?"
"Wasn't she married to him?"
"He's depressed."
"Will they be friends again?"
"Look! she has a mini cooper. You love mini coopers."

And so on and on.

If there is a tv show that I like to watch, it is my habit to dvr it and then start watching it twenty minutes in so I don't have to watch any commercials. Last night we started from the beginning. We had to watch all the commercials. I swear to God this is true. Chase says, "I like to watch with the commercials." "You do?" I asked him, "Why?" He said, "It gives us some time during the show to discuss what is happening. Okay, let's go over what we know. Susan found out about Bree and her ex husband. Lynette is going to sue her boss, Julie doesn't want to date that boy because she was with his dad and Mike is really mad at the red haired lady."

Twist, how many homeschooling credits do I get for this?

Reasons To Be Thankful

It's the day before Thanksgiving. Everyone I know is scurrying around like little mice getting their Thanksgiving dinners ready.
I am thankful I have never made a Thanksgiving dinner in my life.
I am thankful that both my children are sleeping soundly on their first day off from school for Thanksgiving vacation.
I am thankful I get to see my brother Chris tomorrow.
I am thankful I get to see one of my best friends on the whole earth, Suzy this weekend.
I am thankful that my gorgeous daughter is finally realizing how amazing she is.
I am thankful for my adorable, "yes man" son. Eddie Haskal, Baby.
I am thankful for Lisa's enthusiasm over everything.
I am thankful for the Rodin statue.
I am thankful for my yoga girls, young and not so old.
I am thankful I talk to BA daily even though she's in Istanbul.
I am thankful for my Friday night dates with Asude.
I am thankful for charms, markers, pastels, and paints.
I am thankful for LYTB.
I am thankful for Billy's 11 point word in Boggle.
I am thankful for Hennyson and his dislike for self help.
I am thankful my dog hasn't had a seizure today.
I am thankful for Christina and her stories.
I am thankful for tattoo's and piercings.
I am thankful for the indians.
I am thankful for my Sima.
I am thankful Christy liked Sue and I.
I am thankful there is not a dead giraffe in my house.
I am thankful that someone invented handstands.
I am thankful for hair dye and those who apply it correctly, Rachie.
I am thankful that Saige is Saige. Sooo Saige.
I am thankful that I'm left handed (it makes me better than all the right handed people and the Catholics -:))
I am thankful for Twist even though she won't just drop back already.
I am thankful for feather trees.
I am thankful for the entire state of Colorado.
I am thankful for picking four winners.
I am thankful for Pinochle.
I am thankful that Mike the IT guy hasn't broken my toaster.
I am thankful for music.
I am thankful for coffee.
I am thankful for my Mommy.
I am thankful for Kas.
I am thankful that Micker follows me everywhere.
I am thankful for the pretty tree that blooms out my window in Spring.
I am thankful for Spring.
I am thankful for my sweet Lucy.
I am thankful I saw Amy order three desserts.
I am thankful for the Lincoln Tunnel (even when it's hard to get to)
I am thankful for Kathy and her red wagon and her song comments.
I am thankful for Brother John. I hope he has a nice Thanksgiving.
I am thankful for the sun.
I am thankful for the Perfect Petal and it's pretty things.
I am thankful that Ba and Lale dance to Imagine every night.
I am thankful for Balderdash.
I am thankful that Ashie has a boyfriend.
I am thankful I knew Mom Mom.
I am thankful I can PLAY with Lisa and Christina daily.
I am thankful for the color hot pink.
I am thankful for stickers. I like them.
I am thankful for my fairy God children.
I am thankful for my son's laugh.
I am thankful for my chiropractor.
I am thankful for Turkey. The country and the bird.
I am thankful for Winston.
I am thankful for hummus.
I am thankful for Sue's boots and the wonderful Roanne.
I am thankful that the Amish like volleyball.
I am thankful for the smell of lavender.
I am thankful for my Love books.
I am thankful for free street parking in NYC.
I am thankful for NYC.
I am thankful for my kids report cards.
I am thankful for this chair. It's all I need.
I am thankful that the bartender from Teca did Lisa's laundry.
I am thankful for calla lilies.
I am thankful for my Pixie girls.
I am thankful for Target.
I am thankful I still have my dad's baby ring.
I am thankful I live close enough to drive to all my brother's houses.
I am thankful for my cousins.
I am thankful for friendly squirrels.
I am thankful for my western Kirsten Hood(lum).
I am thankful for my summer with Smash.
I am thankful I just remember it's Paige's b day in a couple days.
I am thankful for Paige.
I am thankful for Lisa's ability to focus.
I am thankful for running.
I am thankful for Katzy.
I am thankful for Lipsky.
I am thankful for shiny objects.
I am thankful for warm weather in November.
I am thankful for Boggle and all those who play it.
I am thankful for heated seats.
I am thankful fringe.
I am thankful for Itunes.
I am thankful for the gym.
I am thankful for YOU.

Tim Burton and Rodin

His latest work, Alice in Wonderland. I can't wait for this.

I have been so excited to see the Tim Burton exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art. I tend to get a little obsessive about things. I think Tim Burton is a genius. I love how twisted he seems. Right up my alley. I saw this advertised in a Metropolitan Home magazine and have been plotting and planning to see it ever since. At first I was going to go up one weekend in December when I have about a million (yes Billy, a million) other things to do but then I saw it opened the day my Mom and I were taking the kids up. I was so happy for all of us!

Well...hmm... opening day at MOMA in New York City on a Sunday during holiday season. Perhaps I should of said to myself, "Self, not a good idea." I didn't though. I do like I always do and riled them all up with all my enthusiasm and forged ahead. We waited in a relatively long line to get the tickets. It was crowded even in the lobby. Still, we were there. We got the tickets and made our way up to the entrance of the exhibit. It was super cool. There was a big timeline of all that Tim had done. Even movies that never came to fruition. Then there was a big mouth that you got to walk through to enter the exhibition. That is if you wanted to wait for an hour and half. Opening day. Duh.

Not so much.

My kids had been great for the ride up. They didn't bicker during the Empire State building. They were excellent through the sighting of the almost Amish but really Hasidic Jews, a long wait for lunch, an almost stolen (left in the car) wallet, a line at the entrance, now we are pushing hour six into our adventure day, I didn't see an a long wait in a very long line in our future.


Oh well, easy come, easy go. We were there. We decided to look around. Our first stop was to some modern sculptures. We happened upon one looked like a great big purple cat play place. Chase said to me, "Mom, you know what I hate? I hate when something is really expensive and important and it looks like you made it yourself."
It made me start to laugh. Moma is not the Met. Modern art is so subjective. I know it bothers people at times. Big blue stripes on paper or paint spilled on newspaper. It makes me happy, just cause it's up there. It makes me think about what simple things can look like together. I find it very powerful, even when when it seems silly. Somehow it made it to the walls of the museum that holds great works of art.
I completely get what Chase meant. I'm so glad he had that thought. I'm so glad he was paying attention. Clever boy. That alone was worth the trip.

Until the fifth floor.

The fifth floor is filled with Picasso and Van Gogh, you can see The Starry Night there, You can see Salvador Dali's The Persistance of Memory is there. There are Chagall's and Rousseau's, Mattise's and Marcel Duchamp's To Be Looked at (from the Other Side of the Glass) with One Eye, Close to, for Almost an Hour. The whole place makes my heart beat faster and I was so excited for my kids to see it, even if it will take more than once for it sink in. You gotta start somewhere.

All of the sudden Chase says very seriously, "Hey look. That looks like Uncle Mark."
Rodin's tall gay guy with the good hair (not the real name)
I almost fell on the floor laughing.
I still laugh every time I look at this picture.


Seriously, this will make me laugh for years. Look how perfect his hair is. Totally looks like Uncle Mark! He probably smells good too. Saige has informed me that gay men smell better cause they "care."



"Mom, can we come back before the exhibit is over to see it?" Saige said.
There were a lot of things that made it worth the trip. :)

Thanks Mom :)
http://abduzeedo.com/tim-burton-retrospective-moma

Sunday Adventure New York Part One

This weeks adventure is a trip to New York to see my brother Mark. Yay. I love a trip to New York to see my brother Mark. Sometimes I sing that to myself cause it makes me so happy (I'm singing that too, but at least I'm not whistling it, right? Right.)
Our original plan is for Saige, Chase, my Mom and I to go up, go to the Toys R Us in Times Square, then to MOMA for the new Tim Burton exhibit, then to lunch. Mark will be meeting us at the museum because clever Grinch that he is thinks the Toys R Us at Christmas time might not be quite as much fun as it sounds.

I scurry around Sunday morning getting ready, as Chase lies on the couch like an Egyptian king he says, "I think I would rather go to the top of the Empire state building. I don't care about the toy store."
Well, this is interesting. My Mom and I look at each other and discuss if we had ever gone there before. I am thinking I did once in college with a boyfriend that lived right outside of the city but other than that, no. My Mom thinks she has never been there. We both find this a lovely turn of events since the whole toy store thing was to please my precious angel although to me it sounded like a little bit of hell right here on earth.

It was a fun ride up. Saige listened to her Ipod while Chase chatted away. As we were driving through the Lincoln Tunnel Chase said, "This is a long tunnel." I agreed and said, "I love the Lincoln Tunnel. Once you are through it's like you are entering a different world. It's how you go from here to there. Just like the wardrobe in Narnia."
"I was going to say that! I was just about to. Just like the wardrobe! Cause you can't see anything as you go through here except the walls," he says so excitedly it makes me smile at the similarities of the two of us. As he is pushing into the pre-teen years sometimes those likenesses are hard to see. I love these little reminders. Like last week while we were waiting for Saige to get out of an appointment and had a fifteen minute discussion on words we loved the sounds of. His favorite was indigenous. I find that freakishly delightful.

We go into the city and find free Sunday street parking which to me is a tell tale sign of a great day to be had. We are walking down 34th street as the guys who sell you on the virtual helicopter tour and the no wait access to the top start talking to us. Like the stellar consumers we are, we buy right into it. We get our tickets and up we go.
The virtual helicopter tour is pretty cool. Kevin Bacon guides us through New York City. It was great fun. Then we went up up up to the top of the world.



I believe It is a beautiful day in New York City.

I'm Not Sure What To Do With This

When one odd thing happens it's kind of like, I don't know, a happening? Then something similar goes on and you scratch your head and wonder and then, three times a charm...
It all started with my daughter who is a couple weeks shy of 12. She came home last week and said, "One of my teacher's said it was okay to say faggot."
What?
"What are you talking about?" I asked her.
"Well, she said it just means gay or retarded," she told me as she shook her head in disbelief.

I did not know what to make of this. I found it unsettling and bizarre. Who says that? I don't think saying it's okay cause it means retarded is even remotely all right to say. I didn't really know what to do though. Saige knew it was crazy. That's why she told me. I just said, "That's insane." She agreed with me.

Then she came home and told me they had someone who worked in the school come in a read a poem in their class. She said, "It was very inappropriate."
Here we go again. "Inappropriate how?" I ask.
"Well, it went something like, when the sun goes down and the moon goes up, don't be distressed, I'm up your dress," she said.
"What?" I ask again.
"I know," she says. "My teacher told him it wasn't okay to say to us." (I believe that was the same teacher that uses questionable words in every day conversation but, apparently this is where the line is drawn.)

Then today. Chase comes home. "A teacher yelled at me," he informs Saige and I.
"Why? What'd you do?" Saige asks him.
"I was talking in line. He told me to stop and I said sorry," Chase said.
"That's it?" I asked.
"No! After I said sorry he said, 'Sorry doesn't matter. Sorry doesn't do anything. What if someone killed the president? Do you think they could just say sorry and he would magically come back to life?'" Chase tells us.

I'm sorry. That borders on psycho talk to me. Comparing a ten year old chatting in the recess line and an assassination of a world leader is not really apples to apples.

I'm not sure what is the appropriate thing to do, or do I just shake my head, reassure my children that all of it is just weird and not remotely sane. I was relieved that in every situation my kids knew it was not okay. There are a lot of things that happen daily that I'm sure they don't tell me. These stuck out enough that I heard about them.
These are the things they're learning during the school day?
Huh...

The Grass is A Lovely Shade of Green

Some things just aren't meant to be. I think sometimes you have to accept that and move on. Like for instance, missing a flight. That doesn't suck to much, right? There is nothing like being at the airport on a rainy morning at the crack of dawn and them telling you that are twenty minutes to late to get your luggage on a plane.

What would one do were this to happen to them I wonder? Wanna know what I did? I started to cry. Yup, right there. And then I convinced myself that I had lost my keys. I'm sorry, I had to self park for the first time in forty years. How ridiculous is that? I had never driven myself to the airport alone before in my entire life.

First time for everything.

I am an over packer too. I have roughly four outfits per day, which include but are not limited to, workout clothes, day clothes, dinner clothes and sleeping clothes. Four days times four outfits per day plus options is a big bag. And also as any woman knows, you can go away for a day or a month and you still need all the daily essentials. There is no way around that. I can't just use any old lame hair dryer. And this face isn't going to get washed magically by itself. I'm not Samantha from Bewitched for Gods sake. I need my stuff. So, not only did I self park but I also had to lug the hugest duffle bag in all the land by myself, with my laptop bag, a huge coat (who am I rachel?) and a purse. It's no wonder i couldn't find those keys!

So then what happens? The ticket guy consoles me. I get some looks of concern from strangers and I get out my cell phone and call my friend Lisa, crying to her. As she is figuring out how to get me new keys, I find mine! I dry my tears. I accept the fact that instead of flying directly to Denver I will be taking a little foray to Phoenix. Which is nice I guess cause I will see a sunny day after a yucky, rainy, morning.

I sit next to a girl on the plane who not only drove herself to the airport but also never saw the shuttle from long term parking to the terminal. She was going away for a week and had two suitcases, her laptop, purse and a coat. She WALKED from long term parking to the terminal in a rainy windstorm at 6.30am.

Dude, it could always be worse.

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far...

On Sunday's I get to hang out with my children. My kids are extremely social and busy and whether they are with me for the weekend or their father they are always between parties and playdates and sleepovers and my very own personal time is usually when I am putting their laundry in their room or when I am making them some sort of meal.
I like time with just them. I try to think of things to entice them into hanging out with me and only me for a while. Once we get passed the part where they bicker about something the three of us have a good time.
Yesterdays adventure was taking the hour drive to see my oldest brother and his family. They are great fun. They also live an hour from here in Amish country. They are not Amish though. Not that I know of at least. :)
So we drive through farm lands and by horse and buggies and we see all sorts of sights. I have the annoying tendency of liking to stop the car on road trips. I like to take pictures of nonsense. It is one of my favorite things to do. My daughter is the exact same way. She is delighted by our road trips sights. Funny signs, interesting looking people, any boring, old, kind of animal that is close enough to the road for us to get a picture. It takes my son a little bit of time to warm up to this. He pretends like he doesn't at first and he thinks we are offending people by taking pictures of their every day life. While I guess in the abstract :) this could be true it is certainly not our intention. We are just fascinated by shiny objects or little tiny horses or people with lives different than ours.

" Saige!, get out the camera!! Look! The Amish, they are playing some sort of Amish game!"
"Oh my God Mom, don't even take their picture. They are not zoo animals," Chase says.
Luckily Saige already has the camera turned on and the window down. She is ready to go.
"I know they're not zoo animals, but they are playing some sort of Amish game and I think we should record it so we can refer back to when you are studying the Amish," I reply like the concerned parent that I am.

"That's not an Amish game! That's volleyball!" Chase yells at us.
Well yes it is. Hmm... I don't care. You just don't see that everyday.

"Pull over Mom! Look! Another little tiny horse," Saige says excitedly.
'I yuv yittle tiny horsies!" I say like an idiot.
"Oh great. Just what I wanted to do today, take pictures of farm animals," Chase says.
"Technically it is Saige taking the pictures, if you want to use exact words Greg Brady," I say.
I just got an eye roll for that one.
"LOOK! An amish tree!" Saige says.

"Why are the people Amish?" Saige asks.
"Cause they are," I reply smartly.
"Do you think they are nice to their horses?" she asks.
"I sure hope so."
"They just all look so...so," she starts.
"So what?" I ask.
"So miserable."
Because there is clearly something wrong with me and my sense of humor this struck me so funny that I started laughing until there were tears streaming down my face.
"What's so funny?" Chase demands.
"Mom! Mom! Look!!" he says.
"What is it?"
"Did you see how big that horse's butt was? It was huge!" he says amazed."You should take a picture of that."

Riki tiki tembo is finally on board.
And Saige already has the camera out.

...From the Tree.

Labels

My friend called me a dork today.
I really don't think it was called for.
I will be the first to tell you about my nerd like habits.
-I have had every new Harry Potter book in the first 24 hours it is out and have read it in a couple days. Even though my children are not that interested.
-I like Neil Diamond. Not every day. Not a whole album, but if Sweet Caroline comes on I will not be changing the station. And don't even get me started on my love for Gordon Lightfoot. Seriously, I will say, I wouldn't be caught dead with a Journey song on my IPod, but that's just me.
-I do Sudoku, or play Sudoku or whatever it is called when you hang with your Japanese friend Suduko. I thoroughly enjoy a brand new Sudoku book and a freshly sharpened pencil. Yes, I use a pencil.
-Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer still makes me cry when those other reindeers won't let him play any games with them. And I just don't understand why the little people have to be make fun of the dentist. Fake wooden Holiday characters can be mean.

See, I will admit if I am a nerd.

So say, you were to call me and tell me that you played Boggle on your phone until you got a headache (cause that's not dorky at all!). Is it so wrong for me to ask, "Was it regular Boggle or Mastermind Boggle?" I think that's a valid question! I also think I could kick his ass at either! (I have also been labeled competitive on occasion) which I'm not! I just like to win. Duh.

I did enjoy that he knew exactly that Mastermind Boggle was the supersize board that won't allow any pathetic three letter words!
You gotta be a total dork to know that.
Right?
Amulet Hit.

Where the Wild Things Are

If you are planning on seeing the movie Where the Wild Things Are, you might not want to read this. Or you might. I'm not sure. So I will just tell you. I am going to talk about it. Not only talk about it but explain the whole movie. So don't read it maybe.

I saw this tonight. I started crying at the beginning of the movie and cried until well after I got home.

This movie is not just a short book about a little boy being sent to bed without his supper and going to an imaginary land. This movie was about divorce and the breakdown of a family. It was very sad.

At the beginning you saw Max watch his Mom on a date in his house. He wanted her attention and she was giving it to a man that wasn't his father. He is angry and acts out, she gets upset with him. So he runs away to the Land of the Wild Things.

When he got there the main Wild Thing, Carol, (James Gandolfini) was breaking down the houses because his friend, K.W. was gone. Destroying them one after another. Max was happy to join him in his quest to ruin everything until the rest of the Wild Things got angry at him for destroying what they worked so hard to build.

He almost got eaten by the wild thing family until he promised the monsters that he had special powers and that he alone could make them happy. He could build a place for them where no sadness and no loneliness got in. That was their main concern, to keep out the loneliness. So they made him king.

He is then immersed in their family which is having a breakdown of it's own. Each wild thing seemed to be a part of his psyche at some point. There was the part that was scared and alone. There was that part that was confused and broken. There was the part that was angry and destructive. There was the part that was loving and only wanted everyone to be happy. There was the part that felt invisible and helpless. And there was the wild thing that just didn't say anything at all.

There was Max. He was all the wild things wrapped up in one little boy.

Max led them in a plan to build the perfect place to live. The place where they could live safe from the outside world. The place where no one could get in that they didn't want. But then he found himself letting others in. Carol's
feelings got hurt. He lost his temper. He stormed off.

He got angry when he found out that Max couldn't save him and that he really wasn't a king. He was just a little boy. He chase's him through the woods until Max is saved by K.W. He climbs through her mouth and waits inside her while she and Carol yell at each other. He listens to them argue. He can barely breathe. When he gets out he talks to K.W. She is so sad. Carol said mean things. Max said, "It's just cause he is scared. He didn't mean it." K.W. says, "It's just so hard to begin with. Why does he have to make it worse?"

I guess it's just life.

I have not read any review on this movie. At the end I did see that it was directed by Spike Jonze and the screenplay was by Dave Eggers, who wrote "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius." I thought that was interesting because they are both so current and edgy.

I guess this movie could have gone a whole different way. It could have been a little boy with some sort of ADD or ADHD or just hopped up on to many lollipops and to much caffeine. He could have gone to the land of the wild things and had some zany adventures and then realized that he really did miss his family and gone home.
It could have gone like that.
It didn't though.
I think this was better. It's not a movie I would take a small child to see but in reality divorce and loneliness and all those other emotions are part of life. I think it could give people who might be going through anything like this a different view. It could possibly help. I think some people might be upset by it not being a sugary sweet adaptation of Maurice Sendak's classic children's book. I myself, thought it was helpful.

I will say, if you are the product of divorce or are going through a divorce or know anyone that has or is. You should see this movie.
It might even change how you think.

Even when it appears we are acting like monsters, we are actually just human, sometimes scared, sometimes lonely, sometimes lost, but really just human after all.

Who Looks Out For Your Children?

I'm a bit confused about something. This is nothing new. Sometimes I say to some, "Wait, wait, wait. Listen to me. Um, I don't know." So honestly, that could be considered confused. Or just that I have so much on my mind I can't get it out quick enough. Thank God for my patient Friends.
I am thankful for all my friends.
Today Dear DiaryBlog I am going to be thankful for my very dear friend Lisa Samuel.
Did you know she is running for school board in West Chester?
Well she is.
It is one of those things I was confused about why she would want to do at first. It's not an easy thing to do. It's a lot of time and a lot of commitment and a lot of being nice to people who aren't all that nice to begin with. Lisa is a worker though. She gives her time to everything. She organizes things, volunteers, makes dinners, helps out everyone. To the point that it actually exhausts me. She is always willing to do more.
School board seemed slightly insane to me. Until I listened to what she had to say. She told me about the deficit in the budget and what some wanted to cut. She talked about how there are people who believe our kids should be going to school all year round. She told me about the people who believed creationism should be taught in our public school classrooms. She talked about the costs of everything. She knows a lot. It still was only slightly interesting to me.
The other night she had to make a speech. I went just to support her. Cause she's my friend. It was enlightening.
I'm sure it's obvious by my flashing Obama banner on the side bar of my blog that I lean to the left. I am pro choice. I am against war. I didn't like Jorge Busha. I do not believe that religion should be in the schools. In other words, I am for all that is good and right in the world. Duh.
So going to the debate night was very eye opening. I listened to the eight candidates talk. A lot of politics has to do with charisma. That's a given right? People need to connect with someone. If the People care enough to vote for school board that is. If you have kids that are school aged and you have ever complained or questioned anything, I hope your voting where ever you live. Take five minutes to learn who your candidates are. Vote for someone. You are your child's main advocate. If you spend the time driving them to sports and doing homework and going to their conferences and choosing Jif cause you care, the least you can do is decide who you think is best to make the big decisions for you and your children concerning their education.
Allah or Buddha or God or the Sun might do it most of the time but I'm quite sure none of them could care less if your children are bussed both ways to kindergarten.
The video below show cases one of our slightly charismatic candidates. All that nonsense in the video goes on in our sweet little town. The town we live. The town our children live in. The Pro War folks have invited known "criminals," (and that's the FBI's word, not mine) into our town. They have decided that because they are "For War" that they are "Against Peace."
I'm sorry. That's weird. And scary. And doesn't belong here or anywhere for that matter.
I'm sure it goes in your town too. Check it out.
Vote.
Do it for your kids.
On Tuesday, if you live in West Chester Area School District please vote for Lisa Samuel.

Oh Brother John, Where Art Thou

I was in New York for a couple days trying to learn some new yoga. I met a friend who has this thing with liquids apparently.
We go into Starbucks so my friend can get a Chai tea. Apparently orange juice, water, and diet coke is not enough beverage for 10 am. I sit down at a table to wait cause it's a long line. I decide to try to answer a couple e mails from my phone. Someone taps on my shoulder.
"Excuse me, excuse me." he says.
I look up and see an interesting looking fellow to say the least.
"You are beautiful," he says to me.
I'm not sure what's going on here. I look around for my friend. No where to be seen. I glance at the women at the table next to me on her laptop. She didn't even look up. I'm in New York City after all.
"Thank you so much," I say to him.
"You are beautiful!" he repeats. "What are you? Italian? German? Irish? What? Italian?" he fires off at me?
"Um... I don't know," I stammer out like an idiot.
He doesn't seem to notice. He just keeps talking.
"You know what I like so much about you?" he ask me as he takes my hand in his?
I'm not sure if this normal.
"No," I answer.
"Your shape. You've got a great shape," he says. Then he kisses my hand.
Huh?
Okay.
"Listen, I haven't eaten breakfast. Do you have any money you can give me?" he asks quite confidently.
Oh, I see now.
"I guess so," I say as I look around again to see if someone is going to intervene.
At this point he lets go of my hand for a second to make someone move out of the table he has planned on sitting at after he got some latte money from me. I have to hand it to him, the guy moved. In the same breath he got some notebook paper off a different guy because as he informed me, he was a writer.
"I'm Brother John," he says. "I'm going to be a Saint. Now listen to me. Fold up the money in your hand when you give it to me, if they see you handing it to me they'll kick me out. How much are you giving me? They kicked me out the other day because I took to long in the bathroom. I took five minutes! Most people take thirty minutes! With the toilet paper and everything. And you know what thirty plus thirty is right? An hour!"
Where the hell is my Chai tea friend???
I give him two dollars. Apparently that wasn't enough because he seemed a little annoyed at me for a second but quickly shook it off and continued to talk to me as he took my hand in his again.
"You are so beautiful. You have an aura about you."
Maybe I should have given him more.
At this point I look up and see that my friend has ordered the tea and has to wait for it but is looking right at Brother John and I. I give a little smile that says, "When the hell are you coming over here?" All I see is the Iphone pointed at me! Oh I understand... there will be no saving. Only evidence.
"You look like a celebrity," Brother John says as he kisses my hand.
"I do? Who?" I'm starting to really like Brother John.
"Dolly Parton!" he says very loudly. "I"m a singer you know. How old is Tony Bennett? I sang with him in the park. I love your shape. You know who Dolly Parton is?" Brother John says.
I quickly txt "I'm so glad you're enjoying this."
Finally the Chai is ready so we can go now. Brother John looks at my friend and says, "She's beautiful."
He got a nod of agreement.
I stand up. "It was so nice meeting you Brother John!"
My hand gets another kiss. I think he even sort of bowed at me.
"Have a good day," I say.
I'm sitting here in my warm house on this rainy Halloween and I'm really hoping Brother John had a good breakfast today.

Does Funny Outway (that's for you Kitk) Lazy?

Does it?
If someone is funny can we overlook their laziness?
My children are lazy.
Lazy as dogs on a hot summers day.
Of course they're not lazy when it comes to certain things. They are not lazy when it comes to making weekend plans. They are not lazy when they are hungry and need to ask me to make them something to eat. They are not lazy when it comes to snatching a twenny or three from me for ice skating or movies, or getting nails done, or lunch at the local sushi place with their friends. And they are certainly not lazy when asking if they can get a massage too. Nope, then they are full of the vitality you would expect out of pre teens.
However, they do get a little lazy when it comes to cleaning their rooms, carrying their water glass downstairs, picking up the laundry they have strewn on the side of their bed, putting their dishes in the dishwasher, turning off the tv, or a host of other menial tasks their maid (by maid I mean me) can do.
Today though we had a little family event. We cleaned out the playroom together. Well, Chase and I did. We went through old books and his dinosaurs and a plethura of other junk they hadn't looked at in years. Chase took this opportunity to taking anything electronic that didn't work and move it to his room. He then got all the screwdrivers he could find and disassembled them. Then he tired of that task and left all the crap all over the floor. To lazy to put it in the trash. Don't worry, the maid (me) will get that, Baby!
Saige wandered in and out while she was busy on the phone making her plans for the day. She was able to partake in a few fights over if Chase could take apart the cell phone she hadn't looked at in years and if she could keep the camp flag that Chase bought with his own (parents) money. So that was fun.
Finally I shooed them out to go mess up their rooms and continued on with my cleaning. I did put stuff in the hallway and ask them to take it down to the garage.
Here's Chase, "Um, Mom? Is Saige going to help me because I have already done a lot today!"
So that was funny.
Got a good belly laugh out of that one.
But I really just laughed when I looked at my eleven year old daughters facebook page. It came to my attention cause when I clicked on the home page it said she was now listed as "Single." Huh? Good I think!
So I clicked on her page to see what was going on with her. Not only is she single but apparently has two children who have different last names and four siblings. Now, I don't know. There is a lot of my past that is somewhat foggy but I clearly remember giving birth only twice. Maybe they're her fathers and I just didn't know about them til now. Stranger things have happened.
But really, she's a funny kid. Both her and Chase make me laugh daily. So my vote goes to funny kind of outweighs lazy but I am going to Mean Mommy until those rooms are clean.
Or at the very least Diligent Maid.

A Public Service Announcement

Okay, so we got the lo down or the down lo or whatever it is that is being said these days.

I'll be the first to one to tell you, I'm cool. No. Really. For real... ( in my head). At least as far as forty year old mothers go. So I don't understand txt shorthand. Half the time I have to get my daughter to translate what she has written. And sometimes my children don't think I am nearly as funny as I think I am but I'm sorry, as far as mother's go, I'm not so bad.
I just don't know a thing.

I always thought that because I was of questionable "goodness" in high school and Marc probably fell under even that blurry line that we would have no problem with kids as they became teenagers. We would know. Whatever they could bring at us, one of us would have done it at some point in our checkered youth.

It's not the eighty's anymore people. Hole-Lee.

Seriously, right?

So tonight Suzy and I take the girls (hers and mine, 13 and 11) out to dinner. Sue is also "cool." She's also a much tougher nut than I am. No actually does mean no in her house and there is no bickering about it. Although tonight I did hear her daughter, Jade's side of what will be known as "the Halloween costume," incident. Jade wanted to be candy corn witch. Apparently that costume is somewhat trashy and low cut. Sue wanted to fix it so it didn't appear quite so revealing. Jade was annoyed. Sue ended the discussion with, "Honey, I just don't want you to look like a hussy." Nuff said.

So we got the girls talking. Jade spoke of how she is friends with everyone, the popular kids, the jocks, even the druggies. She doesn't do drugs but she doesn't judge her friends that do.
"So what kind of drugs to kids do these days?" I ask. I am thinking she is going to say, "Pot or Ecstasy," or something I have heard of,
Not so much.
"Purple mist," Jade says.
"What the hell is that?" I ask. "Purple mist? What do you do? Spray it on you? Is it perfume? Do you inhale it? Huff it? Do kids still huff? Where do you get it? I don't understand!!!? I spew out.
"I don't know." she says slowly, "I guess they inhale it," she says.
"Inhale it how? Smoke it? Is there a joint involved? A bong? A hairspray bottle? Whip its? Huffing? Do kids still huff? What is huffing anyway? I never understood how that worked?"
They just stared at me for a minute.
"Come on. I don't understand what it is," I look at Sue for answers.
She takes a sip of wine and says, "I don't know either, Honey."
"What about you Saige," I ask, "Do you know anyone that does drugs?"
"No. I think drugs are stupid," she says.
"Well they are, but people, kids in particular can be stupid too. I just want to know what goes on. What else is there?"
"There's Murr," Jade chimes in.
"Murr? What the hell is that? Isn't that something one of the wisemen brought the baby Jesus? What do kids do with that?"
They all just shrugged their shoulders with wide eyes and shook there heads that they didn't know
This worries me.
It's an uphill battle this whole parenting deal.
What seemed like a nice idea when you were looking at baby name books and picking out crib bedding has taken a whole new turn. Middle school. Boys, drugs, kissing, trashy Halloween costumes, and bitchy girls, combat that with the influences outside of school, sibling rivalry, sports pressure, friends with troubles, divorce, the list goes on and on.

My head is spinning. I mean really, Murr? What is that? I am going to google it and get back to you. Until then, I think we could all use a little yoga. Right?

EggSensual Moment

My phone rings. I am already on the phone with someone else that I don't want to hang up with but my caller id says it's one of my very best friends.
"Hold on," I tell caller one.
I answer.
"Hey, can I call you back in five minutes," I say.
"It better be five minutes or I'm going to kick your ass," the cute little voice says.
I call her back quickly because my recommendation of moo shoo chicken seems to be a big hit with caller number one although they did complain about wrapping it themselves. Ok, Lazy.

So I call back caller number two.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"I'm having an eggsensual moment, is that right? Is that how you say it?" she says.
"Existential?" I ask, laughing.
"Yes! I've been drinking since six o'clock tonight and I'm leaving the Catholic church tomorrow!"

At this point I decide a glass of wine is in order for me, cause this could get good.

"What happened?" I like to keep my Catholic thoughts to myself cause I get scared.
"I got my third letter from them tonight! Three letters! There was more postage on there than there was for the Obama/Bush campaign, or whoever is running now," she says rather loudly.
My smile is so wide right now. I love this woman so much. She delights me daily with her stories but when she gets pissed it borders on a festival. A good one. Not one of those gross food ones. A music festival!
"So what happened?" I ask again.
"I called some of my Catholic friends, they all had suggestions, so I hung up and called you. I needed to talk to a real person."
(I'm taking that as a compliment)
"I can't explain what happened cause I've been drinking since six," she tells me again.
"What are you drinking?" I am curious. She does enjoy a Brandy on occasion.
"The box," she says.
"Of course, the box."
"I"m so mad though, I have looked all over the house for my white wine glass and I can't find it anywhere! I"m leaving the church!"
"What happened?" I try again.
"Three letters! I'm leaving and I'm stapling a thousand dollar check with my resignation!" she says.
"Is it like leaving the Bloods or the Crips? You have to be beat out or sexed out or pay out? Do they pay their way out?"
This is completely ignored.
"Three letters! I'm a good person. I'm leaving!"

I still am not really clear on what happened. I do believe it was a long time coming though. I have heard more than one Catholic person say, "I don't believe what they say but it was how I was brought up, so I'm doing it."
This always makes me cock my head to the side like the dumb blonde I am.
I don't judge though.
Catholic, Jewish, those of us with no set religion. We're all just human.
I am from the religion of "Be a nice person."
I wish everyone was.
Now where's that box?
Sue? The day ends in y...

Birds of A Feather

My friend is crazy. That's why I like her. The other day I tried to write a sweet post about these nice cards my daughter made me. Now most would just say, "Isn't that sweet." but not Twisty. Nope. She decided to write me her own list. I am posting it below with a picture of her for each reason she loves me.

1. You love ME more than anything. Me. ME, ME, ME! Sorry, Saige.

1a. Yes! More than anything! Except that bird on your shoulder. You know how I love the chickens!
2. You really are very supportive. Frighteningly so, in fact. Take drop backs, for instance, and the way you shout, "do it." I feel quite supported.

2a. While yes it's true that I am very supportive of when you are being a big baby and won't do a simple drop back, here it looks like you are supporting me. I love you for that!
3. You always care about my need to make you laugh.

3a. Why yes, I do care about that because the laughs are so few and far between. Stop being so serious all the time!
4. You love to encourage me (to do stupid and sometimes dangerous things so you can take pictures).

4a. While you are right, I do encourage that, I somehow remember standing on a very flimsy branch hanging over the roaring ocean while yelled at me to let go and hold up my foot. I love that about you.
5. You love to listen to my reaction to what you have to say.

5a. I love to listen and look at the reaction you will give me. It is always so motherly. Like hot cocoa on a cold winters day.
(My favorite part is your two little cherubs behind you. So innocent and sweet. Omnamahnaamyshromm)
6. You're willing to drive me to yoga workshops (as long as I'm Cheese Bitch).

6a. This picture screams "Cheese Bitch." Thank you for that.
7. You've never braided my hair after a shower. Harassed me while I cut my hair, yes, but braided it, no. And I love you for that.

7a. Wait, what did you say? I wasn't listening.
8. You always try to help me with my home work...like painting, laying bricks. Oh, wait, no...that's my other friend.

8a. I don't know what friend is helping you lay bricks (are you talking about that guy that went all Red Hot Chili Peppers in highschool? Never mind that. I don't care who helps you with those tasks. Nobody can do this! Nobody!
9. You will eat the blueberry mojitos I make.

9a. I will eat those blueberry mojitos til the cows come home but I am going to have to pass on the dead bat. Is that cool? You still love me?
10. There are a GAZILLION other reasons, but, like your mom always says, Saige: this isn't a contest.

10a. One of the gazillions of reasons I love YOU is because This is Your husband! Come on, Can I get an Amen?
I love you. And Buddha too.

Bonus: But this here, this is the reason that I love you most of all. Cause you're Twisted!

Hornie Princess

I don't like babies. I just thought I'd throw that out there because I always get nervous smiles or laughter when I say it. Most people who know me just shake their heads and laugh cause, well... they know me.

However I totally get the biggest kick out of kids once they turn about 2. 3's perfect and 4 year olds can keep me entertained all day long.

Crazy Twisty (who is getting her own special post as soon as I gather all the evidence) has a little boy whose words will delight me for days on end. I love the way little kids talk, they way the enunciate their words, their odd little accents that they have picked up from who knows where, and especially the stories that come out of their mouthe's.

This weekend my friend was here with me. Her almost 5 year old joined us Sunday but that story is way to convoluted to delve into so I won't even try. So yesterday Marc walks in with Saige and Chase and Hannah to drop them off and puts a unicorn on the couch. He looks at us and says, "Meet Hornie."
"I'm sorry?" I say.
"Her unicorn. She named it Hornie," he informed us with a smirk.
"I got it at Build a Bear," Hannah stated proudly with the brilliant innocence of a child who has named their unicorn Horny because it has a horn. Shame on the rest of us for giggling and laughing.
"Yes, well maybe we can think of a different name for it," her Mom said looking a little embarrassed.
Marc just smiles as he shakes his head no.
"No. I put it on the birth certificate," Hannah states proudly.

Fast forward to today. We were getting ready to run some errands and Hannah says to me in the cutest little voice ever, "Amy, can I bring my horse to play with because I never got a unicorn at build a bear before."
"By all means, pack up Hornie and let's get a move on," I say.
"We are calling her by her middle name today," Hannah says, "Hornie is her first name."
"What is she going by today?" I ask.
"Princess! Her name is Hornie Princess!"

Of course it is.

10 Reasons Why I Love You

Saige made me a present. She brought it in to me tonight. She cut out and colored 11 cards and drew hearts all over them.
10 Reasons Why I Love You
1. She loves me more than anything
2. She is so supportive
3. She always cares about my needs at ANYTIME
4. She loves to encourage me for ANYTHING
5. She loves to listen to what I have to say. ALWAYS
6. She's willing to drive me to my academic activities. She will always make it work.
7. She always braids my hair after a shower.
8. She always tries to help me with my homework.
9. She will eat the dinners that I make.
10. You are the best mom ever! I love you and theres 100000 more reasons why I love you but these are just ten.

Be still my heart.
I couldn't ask for anything more.
When my kids were really little they used to go to the gym with me everyday. At that time they loved the Barenaked Ladies song, "If I Had A Million Dollars." We listened to it all the time in the mornings on our way in. The last line of the song says, "If I had a million dollars... I'd be rich!" Without fail, one or both of them would say, "Are we rich Mom?" My response was the exact same thing every time, "We are rich because people love us."
Tonight I felt like the richest person in the world.

When I told her this was a blog post. She said, "Make sure you say that when I said, 'she always tries to help me with my homework, the underline was on tries."
Rich and stupid. Oh well, things could be worse.

Now, You Know, drop and give me ten. Oh, I'm sorry! Is this not my class? My bad.

Pavlov's Dog

Pavlov was so smart. Him and that dog. I think he really could have done a little human testing though and found the exact same thing. We are all Pavlov's dog, right? We get conditioned to be a certain way and then it takes an entire re-learning process to break out of it.

You can see it so easily in other people all the time. The way they react to situations. The way people follow relationship patterns. They have the same one repeatedly, with different people, whether it is good or bad. They allow people to treat them a certain way. Their habits and customs and figures of speech. We are completely captive of our emotions, our instincts and our conditioning. History proves that over and over again. People still fight wars, there is greed and hate and damage to the environment. We've seen the effects but it doesn't stop us. A universe full of Pavlov's dog. Can we change it and begin to control at least our own personal destiny or are we just stuck in stream of evolution?

I have a friend who had a really awful, crazy, insane, drug addict, boyfriend. She finally got rid of him. She had a new boyfriend. He had some better qualities, but many the same and instead of doing cocaine he is taking steroids. He didn't care when she was sad, he invaded her privacy, he tried to control her, but yet she was upset when he broke up with her for the fourth time in two days. I said, "I don't understand, what was the draw? How was he making you happy?" She said to me, "Well, he's good with my child and he never hit me." Holy God. That's how low her bar is set? I feel like I need to repeat a thousand times, "You are to good for that. You are an amazing person. You deserve someone who can make you as happy as you make them." If I repeat it enough will it break her of a habit of putting herself aside for someone else? Making excuses for people and settling? Or is she to conditioned from previous relationships that this is what is "normal?"

But what about ourselves?
Seeing it in someone else is easy. Realizing that you do it too is so eye opening. I have found that it's hard for me to tell people when I'm sad. I am really good at making them feel better about my stuff or just not saying anything at all. I know I will be able to get through it alone (or with the help of my payed shrink). I might tell them what is going on but I have a hard time admitting how it is affecting me. I learned a long time ago that some people don't want to hear it. They have had their own long day. They don't want to hear that you're sad. You have no reason to be sad. Shut up. Smile. Look pretty. Your problems aren't nearly as valid as theirs.
Last night I needed to talk. I realized that how I was feeling was a little to much for me on my own. So first I txted a friend, almost as the heads up that I wasn't okay. Kind of giving them an out in case they didn't feel like listening. Although I said, "Don't call me. I don't feel like talking," my phone rang immediately. So I talked. I talked and cried and was completely honest with my feelings. I heard myself saying to my friend, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to do this. I hate to complain."
You know what I got?
"Shut up."
"Shut up? Shut up? YOU shut the f*&k up!"
No!
That didn't happen. Not last night at least. ;)
Last night the "Shut up" I heard was followed by. "Don't ever apologize for telling me how you feel. You can't be happy all the time. You are allowed to feel sad. When you do, I want you to call me first. Don't tell me you are bothering me. I want to hear everything. Good and bad. I want to be here for you."
I listened and then explained that I would need retraining. Don't get frustrated with me if I hold back at times. It's what I am conditioned to.
Like Pavlov's dog.

Thank you friend and friends and Mommy :)

My Precious Baby

My ten year old son was sick this week. He was actually sick on Monday but he had a big weekend and he has cried wolf before. I tend to not have a lot of patience with the Monday blues. I tell him, "Be sick on Friday and we'll talk. Monday doesn't work for me." I sent him off to school and went about my day.
Yesterday he really was sick. He had a fever and he slept for hours and hours. I kept going up in my room where he was asleep to watch his chest move up and down he was sleeping for so long. Finally he woke up and felt a lot better. He came downstairs with me and we sat on the couch and talked. Before he was sick, this summer, he had been a little distant. For a while I thought it was his age and his hormones but lately I have come to realize he just had a lot on his mind. As we sat there and talked yesterday and laughed I was so happy to see my little boy start to seem his normal self to me again. We were laughing about something and he looked at me and said, "How did we get such a perfect life together?"
My heart must have skipped a beat. I could not possibly love this child any more than I do.
"I know," I said. "Right?"
He looked at me so sweetly and said, "How do you think we found each other?"
Oh my God, I love these moments when it's so obvious that your child is your own. When their thinking links up to yours in ways that others might not understand.
I said, "You picked me baby. You came to me."
He just smiled. He loves my metaphysical, past lives, crazy, koo koo, spiritual stuff. Cause he's so my child.

Breaking My Heart

I have an eleven year old daughter. She is amazing. She is a good human being. She understands people. This year, especially I have watched her go from a child slightly uncomfortable in her skin to a confident young lady. She has her moments of crazy (who amongst us doesn't) but she told me the other day, "Only with you Mom. I don't care when we get in arguments, I know you love me." We sat there and laughed because there are times that child will not take no for an answer, will not back down, will not just walk away. Even when I say, "Walk away." At the time it's kind of annoying but after a while if it was her deal, she always comes in and says, "I'm sorry." I do too if it was my thing. It works.

Today she had two friends over. They were supposed to be here til 6.30. She came in and asked if they could stay til 8. I said, "sure," and went about doing what I was doing. I was on the phone with my friend and Saige came in and whispered, "What kind of therapist did you want to be Mom?" I pointed to the phone to signal I was busy.
She said, "It's really important."
I got off the phone and she said, "Lily is in there crying."
"Why?" I asked.
"She called her dad and asked if she could stay longer and he yelled at her and said he was coming to get her now. Now she is afraid he is going to scream at her when he picks her up. Can you come talk to her. Be a therapist."

My heart sunk. This isn't the first time I have heard about this dad. She has cried while at my husbands house about him. I have heard stories. Her parents are going through a divorce and she is happy about that. She tells the girls that she hates him. I don't know her mother well enough to talk about it. I feel awful having this little girl at my house and sending her off in tears because she is afraid of her own dad. It breaks my heart in a million little pieces.

I sat down on the floor with them and she cried and said that he gets so mad. It scares her. She was crying so hard it made me nervous that it was more than yelling. I had to ask her. I said, "Sweetheart, are you afraid if he's going to hit you?" She kept her eyes down and said, "I don't remember if he ever did that." I asked if she had called her Mom and told her and she said that her mom didn't answer. We sat and talked about how she felt and what to do and I don't remember feeling quite so helpless as right then. The other friend here had all sorts of ways to get her away from the dad. Trying to make her laugh. Not understanding the situation enough, having never lived it. I asked Lily, "Have you ever told anyone before or talked about it?" She tilted her head up with all those tears and said, "Just Saige." as she looked at my daughter. The beauty of that friendship made me smile for a second. Then I got sad again.

I walked out with her when he got here. My daughter and her other friend hugged her so tight and said, "We wish you were staying." I wanted to yell at that man and tell him he was a f*#kin' bully. Seriously, men who scare their children on a daily basis make me sick to my stomach. I know it wouldn't have helped her though so I made small talk and tried to be nice. The girls gave him some Halloween candy to try and make him happy and smiled. It was so fake and such bullshit. It made me so mad. I felt like I was teaching them the wrong thing. Smile. Be nice. Make sure you don't piss the bully off even more. He's bigger, he's stronger, he's louder. Just smile. But she's just a little girl. I wanted her to get home and feel safe. That should have been a given.

Supremely Pathetic

I love a good word. Sometimes I just love the way they sound like, charlatan. It has a certain zing to it. It sounds like you want it to mean. Or rascal or illuminated or overzealous. "The sign on the marquee was illuminated and the overzealous fans began to chant (another good one) as the actor portraying the charlatan sauntered cat-like down the red carpet." The whole thing might not make such good sense but I love the words.

There are also words that I dislike (as oppose to like, not like posable or opposable thumbs, please follow along). Sometimes I don't even know why I don't like certain words, for instance I hate the word masseuse. You can't say that word without someone getting a goofy look on their face and asking about a happy ending (also a vile word grouping and really just gross on it's own volition). I hate the word crack, either when it pertains to the butt region or the drug.

I can't stand the word "platter," like when you are in a restaurant and someone says, "I'll have the such and such platter." It makes me crinkle up my nose and shake my head. But that's just me.

Turn of phrase. I love a good turn of phrase. I also love the term, turn of phrase.

I like when people make you laugh by speaking in newspaper headline terms about bizarre events. I used to live on this very busy road that my friend Jen was convinced I would meet my demise while fetching the days post. There wasn't a time she was there (lounging around smoking cigarettes) that I wouldn't come in the front door with the days correspondence that she wouldn't say, "West Chester woman-child dies while retrieving the mail. Story at Eleven."

Now just as my good friends, the people who love me, would never say, "Crack," (or probably do it for that matter). They will also try and delight me with the way they speak or write. I have a friend who teased me all week with a word he had on a tablet (not a notebook, Friends, tablet) and he also found this word on a card he was sending to me. He gave me hints. It starts with an "A" ends with a "T", three syllables. It stumped me all week, until I got the card. :)

So, is there a point to this whole bit of blathering about what entertains me?
YES!
Last night Saige and I were at Twist's house for a delicious home made dinner. As we were clearing stuff up Twist leans into me. The twinkle in her eyes let me know that I was going to enjoy what came next. She started to refer to something and said, "You know I found...(not to be named)... supremely pathetic." It honestly made me fall on the floor laughing. Supremely pathetic? Can you imagine what you deserve to get that title? I had tears streaming down my face because I knew it already. I could have called it from a million miles away but the fact that she said it, well, just took it to a whole new level.
Saige came down the stairs, "Are you guys okay?" my daughter asked. "Fine, why?" I said, confused. "It's just that you're screaming down here," she had a slight look of concern on her face. Kirsten kicked up in a handstand and said, "It's just your Mom Saige, she's... odd."

Some I Like:
chastise
clever
kindred
kismet
rhapsody
plethora (this can really go either way)
zingy, (Zongy and Bittera)
phantom
flighty
paws
poppy
pink
perhaps
illustrious
delightful
decadent
tricky
hither (as in come)


Dislike:
placate
when people say "pressed" instead of "ironed"
drapes
purse
puss
piss
smelt
buoyancy (I just don't like it)
lam
ball breaker
oodles (yuck)
ignorant


Okay, I'm going to read Postsecret now...