New Year, New Me?

Sure it's cliche to have New Year's resolutions. But I'm a fan of goals and lists, mostly lists, but goals too. I find that if I list them out, they become kind of an obsession and therefore I focus on them. Let me preface by saying that if I don't accomplish all of my goals, I won't consider the year to be unsuccessful - I am lofty, but in the end fairly realistic. Here are some things I have been thinking about and well hopefully accomplish by the end of the year...

Fall in Love with Running again:

I've been running since I had Jon, it ebbs and flows, I hate it, but I love how I feel when I'm done and I am certainly happier with my appearance as a result. I ran a lot last summer, it felt great, but then Ryan started a string of side jobs this fall and my evening runs became few and far between. I'm an evening runner, I love to have dinner and then go out for a run. I'm stiff and cranky in the morning, my runs suck and then I'm exhausted by mid afternoon - so I love running in the evenings. This proves to be harder in the winter, so I am resigned to my treadmill, which I am happy to have, but hate with all my being. So my goal is to get back on the treadmill, as well as don my new outdoor running duds I received from Ryan for Christmas and do a few chilly runs. I am planning to sign up for the Geist Half in May and we'll see beyond that race.

A Sprint Tri:

I've wanted to do a sprint triathlon for a while now - Ryan bought me an awesome new bike for my birthday this year and I am really enjoying it. I didn't know how much I would like bike riding, but with my shiny new road bike, it is easy to enjoy my time out. So between riding and running all I have left is swimming and I am a strong swimmer and know with a bit of time in the pool I'll be fine - it's getting a swimsuit on in front of a crowd that has me a bit concerned - so hopefully with all this running and bike riding, my ass will be a tad smaller before "T" day - there are several sprint tri's in the area this summer, so I'll figure out which will work and go for it.

Continue to Blog:

I've come to enjoy blogging immensely- more than I could have ever imagined. I enjoy doing the Indy Star blog - but I am finding blogging about life is a bit more enjoyable and frankly the negativity of people out there is amazing. I'm not sure in what capacity I'll continue - only time will tell.

Enjoy my Garden more and Expand:

I love to garden, but found it more challenging this year then in years past. This year I am going to expand, yet again, my vegetable garden to the entire side of my house. I am also going to pull out the remaining overgrown bushes around my house (I guess Ryan knows now what he'll doing this spring!) so I can expand my roses, grasses and lilies. I want to spend more time outside, last year I was a bit of a hermit, so my goal is to be out more and do more and include my children to do more so they can develop the love of gardening as well. I am also going to break into composting -so wish me luck!

Truly Clean Out:

If you know me, I am not a hoarder. In fact I was sent into giggles when a couple of girlfriends suggested I become the Indiana version of "Hoarders" like you see on TV. While that could be fun, I am pretty sure I wouldn't be able to handle some of the neurotic tendencies these clients have. But for myself, I am always looking around my home and trying to keep only what I use, as well as not putting emotional associations with things. (Which is hard now that mom is gone - when you've lost someone close it is very easy to slip into the mode of keeping) I know it may seem silly, but when I'm cleaning I try to think about if I lived in India or some other country of the like and all I had was a one room space. What would I need? Certainly I am blessed to not live in that situation, but do I always need everything that I have? This is a constant balance and study and now that it has been almost two years since mom passed I am going to truly reflect on what I have and what is truly sentimental. Also, I am starting to purge the few baby things I've kept. I haven't kept much, but I do have some things for my brother and for any friends that will start there families in the next year or so. I am paring those items down too.

Starting a Career:

So it has always been the plan that after the kids go to school that I would go back to work in some capacity. I have never planned to go to work full time because I think as my children get older it will be as imperative for me to be present as it was when they were young. So a part time gig is in my future. It has always been the plan that I would work so that we could supplement our savings, college savings and retirement. We are blessed that we are still in that circumstance. I have been doing a lot of soul searching and thinking about what I would like to do when I go back to work. Of course I am trained as an Urban Planner, but I am so out of the loop that I don't think I could just jump back in with much success. I also know that I didn't enjoy it much when I DID do it, so I am guessing I would like it less now than I did then. Comprehensive plan charettes and zoning ordinances aren't really my passion. So what the hell do I do? Sure I paint, and I still enjoy that immensely and will keep my online store open. I'm trying think of ways to upgrade and revamp so expect some changes in 2010 - but I want a bit more consistency and with the economy - artwork isn't a necessity. I am hopeful with time and economic recovery that I will paint a bit more, but for now I am enjoying the break. I have be faced with an opportunity that I am doing some thinking and praying about. My yoga studio is offering a training class to become a certified yoga instructor. My instructors are encouraging me to attend. I am strongly considering participating - it will be about 6 months long - 200 hrs. It is a commitment, but I think I actually could be quite good. I love yoga, I love how I feel physically and mentally and emotionally. Yoga was integral in my healing after losing mom, I was able to connect with my pain and my mom. My meditation time allowed me to speak to her, to hear her voice and know I was going to be okay. I see so many benefits for yoga practice beyond the physical that I really love sharing it with the people around me. Upon completion of this training I would be a certified instructor - I would like to tap into one on one instruction in people's homes rather than a studio - but I certainly wouldn't pass up the chance to do studio work either. In the studio, I think I would be happiest doing beginner and children's yoga- just because when you start off it can make or break your experience. I know that my instructor made it so that I wanted to come back and then I evolved with just wanting to do yoga - not just to work with my instructor. I'm still not entirely sure if I will do take this opportunity now or in another year or so - but I'm leaning towards now. Being a stay at home mom with my own schedule has made me a bit of a commit-o-phobe. So I am making peace with losing some of that control and we'll see what happens.

To Strive to be the Best that I am Everyday -for Me, for my Family, for my Friends :

I think developing ones self is an ongoing education. When I die, I don't want people to remember me for a clean house or organized pantry, I want them to remember me as a person you could pop in or call at a moments notice and I would welcome you with open arms. I want my kids to remember me as a mom that kept them in line, was strict, but also soft and nurturing of their individual self. I recognize each of my children have their own distinct personalities - I try to embrace them for who they are - some days it is easier than others. I want my husband and family to know that although I take time for myself, they are the center of my world, that when I do things for myself it's because I want to be the best version of myself for THEM. I want to them to feel loved and cared for and protected.

These are my goals for 2010 - some will be accomplished, some will be attempted, some will be started and ongoing through my entire life, but as the saying goes - "The distance is nothing, it is only the first step that is difficult." Madame Marie du Deffand

I wish for you a happy, healthy 2010. Be safe, be merry and thanks for an awesome year of support and love!

Lying and why Santa can be a bit of a jerk

I'm a fan of lying to my kids- I am. I know some people who are totally against this practice. To you I say, FOOLS! There is a narrow window in their little lives when I can tell them things and they will rarely question me. Now let me preface all of this, I don't lie about really important stuff. If they do something wrong, I reprimand and explain consequences, when my mom was sick and dying, I explained it in a way they could understand, but I didn't sugarcoat, so when I say I lie, I mean about lighthearted things. Santa, Easter Bunny, St. Nick, the tooth fairy - these are all the fodder of my lies. Recently Jon has been questioning Santa a bit, not really questioning, but telling me about a handful of kids he knows that don't believe. This really took me a back because I really thought we would have more time with no questions. It's unfortunate because these kids he's encountering honestly live harder lives than they should at their age. They don't celebrate Santa, not for religious reasons, but because mom or dad can't be bothered. I saddens me and then it angers me because it steals the magic from us. Jon is a pretty straightforward kid so when he tells me so and so doesn't believe, I say "that's too bad, because when you stop believing Santa stops delivering and mom and dad have to pick up the slack." That seems to suffice for now. I am pretty sure that if this wasn't the last year, next year will be. While I am comfortable lying - even I have my line in the sand. If Jon point blank asked me, I would have to tell him the truth. So I guess I'm not exactly lying, I'm just embellishing and avoiding the truth.

I came up with a new lie this year that seemed to benefit us tremendously. My children are early risers, I am not, so Christmas morning can be excruciating for me. Last year it was 5:30 - which is no easy feat when you go to bed at midnight and then are expected to host, cook and smile all Christmas day. So I decided to tell my children this little gem. Santa may deliver the presents after midnight, but they are still magical and if you get out of bed before 7 a.m. then the presents will disappear. At 6:57, Drew had to go to the bathroom - I hear Jon quietly yell - "No Drew it isn't 7 yet! They'll disappear!!!" [Drew] "Jon, I have to PEE!" We hear Drew run to the bathroom and he was in there for a bit and then we hear Jon - "It's okay Drew, come out now" and they ran to the living room and then back to our room to get us up. GENIUS!

I heard another one - that I plan on using next year, this one is really good - one mom told her kids that the individuals at the end of the registers (like at Target or Kohl's or Walmart) are actually elves and their headsets were connected to the North Pole and they reported bad boys and girls who acted up in line. Apparently this set her kids straight and they were angels on the look out for elves at all of the stores they entered. Once again- GENIUS!

Here's why Santa is a jerk. So when Ryan and I had our first Christmas we decided that we would only get one gift and a few stocking stuffers from Santa. We then would buy a game for the family to play and a couple of books and one toy from us. We didn't want to overdo it for Christmas because eventually we'd like to take family vacations instead of presents and my parents have always picked up the slack. So my children will sit on Santa's lap and tell him the one thing they want and every damn year the fat bastard says "only one toy?" "what else do you like - or how about I get you x. y or z" I suppose these mall Santa's are used to kids that come in with a laundry list of items they want. We don't do that - you ask for one thing - you always get that one thing. It has worked out marvelously for the duration of our family. So this year we saw a very nice, very authentic looking Santa. The kids warmed up to him quickly and they each took turns on his lap. Penny was easy, but pulled a last minute switch (see below). Drew - he kept it general - Harry Potter legos. Then it was Jon's turn, he told Santa he wanted Harry Potter, Chamber of Secrets Lego set - Santa then said, "Is that all? Do you like transformers? How about Optimus Prime?" Jon looked at him and said "Sure" I mean if Santa was offering, you don't want to be rude, right? So on Christmas morning Jon was excited, but had a bit of a puss - so I asked what was wrong. He said that Santa didn't get him an Optimus Prime. I told him that the Santa we saw was probably his cousin (because mall Santa's are either an elf or a cousin) and he's used to greedy kids, so someone who comes in with one thing is unusual -but that we don't need to ask for more than what we need. That seemed to suffice and he purchased a new Optimus with his gift card money from my dad. All is right with the world.

I get particularly frustrated with Santa because this has happened to us two other times now - first when Jon was three he wanted a Buzz Lightyear - then last minute he pulled a quarterback sneak and wanted a "Blue Buzz" which of course was more expensive and I already had the regular Buzz. But when your kid asked for one thing, you kind of need to deliver. Then this year we struggled with what to get Penny, I mean she loves Dora and we have everything Dora and Diego from the boys. She loves puppies, but we've reached our quota of stuffed animals, she loves horses, but ditto on the stuffed version and figures. The only thing we could think of is American Girl stuff - but her birthday is in February and we're planning a trip north the store to celebrate her day (mostly because my mom made me promise I would take her to the store for her third birthday - I can't break that promise). So what to get? We were lucky, one of my closest friends has kids the exact age of my own - only opposite sex - they had an extra Leapster in pink that they didn't use anymore - so she gave it and the backpack to me - all I needed to do is get a few games. Great! We did that and we were good to go and then Penny tells Santa she wants a Mermaid Barbie. Then she starts telling EVERYONE she wants a Mermaid Barbie - so on the 23rd at 10pm I went to Walmart with the rest of the nut jobs and bought a Mermaid Barbie to go with her Leapster. Once again all is right with the world.

I think it was a great Christmas - I know I enjoyed it - I'm pooped from all the prep, but happy because everything seemed to like their gifts, enjoy the time together and embrace the season. It's all over, so much work and thought - there is a definite sense of relief and I am looking forward to the winter season. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday - take care and thanks!

E! True Noblesville Story: Annie Page (Chipper)

No really, I am nuts - so if you belong to Facebook you've seen the 5'8" squirrel on my profile picture. Yes, that would be me. Here's the story:

My son goes to Forest Hill, our mascot is "Chipper" the chipmunk. Over the years Chipper has gotten kind of ratty and smelly and well it was hard to get anyone to really WANT to be Chipper - the costume is also a furnace - I mean all that fur zipped up - well it's no wonder polar bears do so well in the cold. So we had a phenomenal fundraiser this fall - raising more funds than we anticipated. So we as a PTO asked the teachers and staff for ideas on how to spend our extra money. One of the suggestions from our Principal was a new Chipper- the kids love Chipper and personally I think he has a thing for him too. So that was one of the suggestions and everyone was on board, except me. Now don't get me wrong - I think it's a fun idea - the kids would love it, but honestly they love ratty Chipper too - so while I have my own passion for squirrels - I did not rally for the new costume. Fast forward to our vote - the costume won - so we ordered it. At this point I need to tell you they are also closing our school in a year and a half and we will no longer be the Forest Hill Chippers - we'll be broken up a bit and my kids will mostly likely be going to Hinkle Creek and be the Cougars (can I tell you how thrilled I am about being a middle aged woman and wearing a "Cougar" shirt?) But that's for another post. So we have a year and half to use the hell out of this costume.

Our principal, Jack, is a riot and he loves to do special things for the kids - so on the last day of school before break he dons a Santa hat and reads T'was the Night Before Christmas to all of the students throughout the day. He had this fantastic idea that our new Chipper should make his grand entrance with a letter from Santa - the only problem was who to put in the costume. I received a reluctant call from our PTO president asking if I had any plans for Friday. Now I did have lunch plans, but other than that, I was free. So my dilemma was do I do the squirrel or be a total bitch and say no. Well as much as I would love to be a total bitch, I couldn't, I mean it's just a costume and I knew I'd have fun. So I said yes, that hell did in fact freeze over and to let Jack know he owed me. Big time.

Fast forward to Friday, I came, I put on the costume and let me tell you - NO ONE over 5'8" can wear this costume - I couldn't sit because my legs would show and Chipper has a bad case of thunder thighs, NO ONE with bigger than a size 9 shoe can wear the shoes because my feet were at the end - apparently people in Guatamala are very small (where it was made). The costume itself is hilarious - my hips were huge (my actual hips look svelt in comparison) and it was still hot as hell- I could have been dropped off at the polar ice cap and done quite well, for days. But then there was the head. This huge, heavy, ridiculous head. I popped it over my own head and ohmyheavenstobetsy, I can't see a damn thing. Nothing, nada, blind as a freaking bat - our mascot might as well have been a giant mole because I had ZERO visibility. The head has two little one inch openings on the two eyes of the chipmunk about 8 inches apart - you do the math - my eyes are not eight inches apart. Which means I spent most of my day staring out of a one inch circle with black mesh over the top. The head was so heavy that in the pictures (that you'll see in a minute) I look defeated, like the alpha squirrel kicked the shit out of me, because my head looks like it's hanging. I was introduced time and time again, walking in and out of the story time - the kids loved it and I will admit to everyone reading this I enjoyed it too - other than the open ended questions Jack would ask me and and then I would think, how the hell do I answer that without talking? "Did you go to the North Pole to visit Santa, Chipper?" "What do you want for Christmas Chipper?" "What do you think about the Senate version of the health care bill?" You get the picture - I would try to shake my head yes, but I feared it would pop off and that would freak a few kids out, no? A Marie Antoinette version Chipper - was not what I had in mind.

I also required a handler to walk me around since I could not see and at first I couldn't walk so well either - by the end of the day I could skip down the hallway -I am sure I was a sight to be seen. My handlers did the best they could, but kids love to hug and high five chipper. I nearly had the air knocked out of me by an overzealous fourth grader who ran head first into my abdomen to give me a hug. I also whacked a kid in the face as I was trying to reach and give another kid a hug. I stepped on one kid and knocked another over with my hips as I was trying to get into the reading pit - graceful Chipper I was not.

My first of two favorite moments of the day was visiting the Kindergarten room - that place was like an militant African minefield - little chairs, desks and kids - I was knocking shit over left and right. I suppose they don't have four foot wide Chipmunks frequenting their space, it was physical comedy at it's best. The next and my personal favorite was when reading time was over - our principal led me down the hall and he had a grip on my arm and was pulling me through a gaggle of kids, the kids were hugging me, grabbing me, giving me high fives - at one point he let go and I thought I would fall or be mobbed - hasn't he heard of leave no solider behind? He then came back for me and grabbed my hand and yanked me through. I knocked over a couple of kids in the process, slammed a few into the walls, and I am confident I personally squished at least six or seven small feet. I couldn't call out "help" or "slow-down" so I was dragged like a cave woman through the hallway, but at least he came back for me.

All in all I had a LOT of fun- if I could see better and the head was more stabilized, I could do so much more. My goal now is to modify how the head meets the suit to enable better movement and to take the pressure off of the wearers neck - I was sore the next day from its weight. The next item on the agenda is to see better -I don't want to look like an ass giving hi-fives to the air. I would wear this suit again (don't tell my principal) - mostly because I love squirrels and definitely because the kids were so much fun to perform for - they loved me! (to be fair they love Chipper, but I was inside so I'll take credit) With that here are pictures from my day as a giant woodland creature...

Pre-head, with my snack and yes that's a bow in my hair, festive, no?

With Annette, who talked me into this.

Chipper with our principal during the "coal test." Don't let Chipper's body language fool you, I'm happy to report that Chipper isn't getting coal for Christmas this year. (Chipper seems to have just have some osteoporosis issues)

I hope everyone has a marvelous holiday - check back, I'll be posting my latest painting, AFTER it's been given to the recipient. Take care and of course - thanks!

Nachos and Gingerbread

On Sunday I worked the Colts game - Jon is on the swim team and as a parent I can earn money towards his monthly dues by working events at Lucas Oil. Not a bad gig - it's a lot of work and I'm gone all day (8-6), but I get to serve nachos and beer to enthusiastic fans and I get to hear the game and even get to see a player or two if I play my cards right. This week was a great game against the Broncos, but I will admit that after the hulabaloo with the health department they are crazy with regulations - most of which don't really make sense or make things cleaner, just more paperwork and red tape - they must of taken advice from the Feds.... Anyway after the game I get to deliver our laundry (shirts and aprons) in the pit of the basement- the drop off is right across from the press conference rooms and the locker rooms - this week I got to see Clint Session of the Colts and Brandon Marshall of the Broncos - pretty sweet!

Mandy and I at our first nacho serving gig

What the hell is my point - my point is that after a long day of nacho slinging I am pooped, pooped actually doesn't scratch the surface I am exhausted- kudos for people who do this for a living - I'm made of a much weaker stock. So I came home, took a shower so I would stop smelling like a Mexican restaurant and Cyd (our dog) would stop following me around hoping my limbs start to fall off because I smell so good, and plopped down on the couch to watch my DVR'd SNL with Taylor Lautner (not to bad - him as an Edward loving teenage girl was my favorite of the night). As soon as I sat Jon reminded me that we were suppose to build our ginger bread house -yes, yes we were, that was before mommy worked her ample ass off. Thankfully Ryan stepped up as super dad and offered to build the house with the kids -I mean he's an architect - if anyone can build a structurally sound, aesthetically pleasing cookie house it's him right?

Wrong, so very, very wrong.

I would like to say at this moment that it shouldn't reflect poorly on my husband and that he has never, ever had anything he has worked on go quite so wrong. He doesn't often use royal icing for mortar and rarely does he have three, overzealous children chomping at his heels to get his projects finished in record time (maybe lawyers or supervisors, but never kids) Clearly the structural quality of this house isn't what it should be - in my semi-professional gingerbread making experience, we have a clear case of not letting the icing harden enough before adding the roof and then the decorative embellishments. All the same - the kids can't wait to eat the hell out of the house, so whether it is standing or resembles a tornado-hit trailer they'll still enjoy the bounty it provides. I assured Ryan there is always next year - but by the look on his face I'm not so sure he'll be first in line offering his "assistance" in building our edible home.

Take care and Thanks!

Kaden

So I have been painting, SURPRISE - I wanted to do a little painting for my nephew Kaden, who is about 15 months old. His room is done in navy, dark red and beige and in typical boy fashion: sports. His dad, my brother in law, is the only other sports lover in the family, so I appreciate this about him very, very much. We are few in number so we need to stick together and anything I can do to help Kaden along is fine with me. I decided to do his Christmas painting on an 8 x 8 canvas and modify my sports theme to suit their favorite sports. It allowed me to stretch my painting legs so to speak because I am working on a very large canvas (another Christmas present) that is different from anything I have ever done before - which is terribly scary and fun. So without further ado -Kaden:

Thanks!

The exact opposite of the Charlie Brown tree

We love to get a big tree at Christmas time- we always have, I've already told you about our ornament legacy that we will leave behind, so in order to support all those ornaments we have to get a big tree. This year it got embarrassing. In the past we'd get a modest 7 footer to fit in our first house. When we moved here, we were geeked at the prospect of getting something bigger. The first year was 9', the next 10', last year we got an 11 footer and this year we got greedy and our eyes were bigger than our living room and we purchased a 12 1/2' tree. It's huge - when we brought it in and stood it up it bend at the top, it was so full it needed to be in the middle of the room in order not to scratch the walls. Hmm, this is a bit bigger than we imagined. So even though our roof peak in our living room is above 14' - we didn't account for the fact that the tree won't be right up against the wall. So what to do? We laughed, my dad, who had come down to visit for the weekend, just sat on the couch saying over and over - wow that is a BIG tree - it was one step above sucking his thumb in the fetal position. I personally was waiting for a squirrel to jump out of the tree National Lampoon's style -but fortunately we were rodent free. Bless Ryan's heart he hacked the back of the tree enough to get it into the corner and then had to whittle down the top for our star to fit on it - I'm not kidding our tree should probably have gone in the White House. The picture doesn't do it justice - you just feel really, really small next to this behemoth of a tree. For sense of scale the picture frame on the wall behind the tree are 22" x 28" ...

The best news is that we got ALL of our ornaments on the tree and NONE had to be relegated to the back. Our ribbon was short and at that point Ryan was short on patience so while I like to have my ribbon lay nicely with gaps and such, ours currently looks a bit mummy like because Ryan pulled it to work and that's with TWO different types of ribbon - we had a third, but as my mom would say - it would look too poleneshika (or Greek for "polish" sorry all my polish friends...) All in all though - it turned out well - and I am happy to enjoy it's amazing pine smell, which is strong since it's so damn big. But most of all I enjoy looking at all of the ornaments, the ones past and present. Ryan got one for me last year that by far is my favorite on the whole tree- it was in memory of mom and it kind of sums it all up.

Every life leaves something beautiful behind.

Thanks!

A Strong Mans

So after dropping Jon off at movie night last week, Drew, like all my kids asked what the weekend agenda was. My kids are predisposed to planning things out because I generally run through our itinerary everyday so there are no surprises. I do this for two reasons - first because I was raised this way and well old habits die hard and second because if I repeat it enough maybe I'll remember exactly what we're doing and when we're doing it. I realize now why my parents did and do what they do - having kids is like the fast track to early onset dementia. So back to our itinerary - I tell Drew that Saturday morning he, Jon and Penny are going with Daddy to pick up our Christmas tree. As you will read we get a big one so we have to get a pre-cut - it kind of kills the going out and cutting it yourself experience, there just aren't any local farms with 12-14 ft trees around here. I digress - so Drew informs me that he is going to help daddy with the tree. You know help carry it because he is strong. "I'm strawng mommy, I'll help daddy. I'm strawng, right mommy?" Yes Drew you are strong. "It's because I'm a man. I'm a man mommy. I'm a man and Jon and Penny aren't mans. Right mommy?" Right Drew, Jon and Penny aren't mans.

Drew manning the fire while our "hobo dinners" cooked.

I find this discussion so funny because my poor Drew is always mistaken for being older than he really is. He's my Great Dane puppy - if I had a dollar for every time someone said, "he isn't in Kindergarten yet? I figured he might be in first grade!" Poor fella - one day being older looking will work well for him - like when he's 18 and in college. For right now, he's my baby trapped in a big kids body - but thank goodness he's strong and a man to boot!

Thanks!

the dark forces

So in August I decided to take Jon with me to shop for some back to school clothes. He is getting to the age where he has a bit of an opinion and although he isn't a fan of shopping, if I get into a kids clothing store and let him loose he actually seems to enjoy himself and does a really good job of picking out some great outfits. We are embarking on that new territory where other kids make fun of you if they don't like your clothes. This frankly sucks and as an adult I find that 99% of these little turds dress terrible and their hygiene is questionable at best. Unfortunately these kids have a "way" about them - they know how to get to your core, they strike when you are vulnerable and you take their word like it was a Bible passage. I know, I've been there, it totally sucks.

If you know Jon he's a bit of a rocker - he likes that edgier style - skulls, motorcycles, skinny jeans, more fitting shirts -that isn't to say he doesn't enjoy loshi-ing in a pair of workout pants and a plain tee - he is the King of Plain Tee's. He has one in almost every color and that's his signature - the lack of embellishments on his apparel. So when we went shopping at Old Navy - he insisted on getting a pair of grey jeans with skulls and cross bones stitched on the pockets and skulls for rivets. They are awesome - really - he loved them too - until one day he learned this word:

GOTH

One morning I picked out some clothes for him to wear - his grey skull jeans and a black t-shirt with a motorcycle on the front and he said, "Mom, why are you trying to dress me Goth?" Say what? What the? Where in the world did you? Huh? So we lightened up the outfit with a plain red t-shirt. Much better. This is what kills me about Jon. He'll be thrilled with a purchase, a vintage Star Wars tee from the Gap for example and one punk will make one comment and BAM it is ostercized to the back of the closet for fear of being in teasing hell at recess.

Ryan has tried to explain to Jon that I dress everyone in this house and that I wouldn't dress us like dorks. That he (ryan) and the kids are my Ken and Kelly dolls and I wouldn't buy or put anything on them that isn't stylish or appropriate. I can't disagree with that logic. It is all very, very true.

We had a little lesson in Goth (which is scary because those weirdos wear chains and spikes and crap like that) we skimmed several pictures trying to find Old Navy grey jeans with skulls embroidered on the pockets. Our findings - amazingly there isn't a big population of 7 and 3/4 year olds in the Goth community. For now our investment is safe, but be aware my little teasing punks- you start messing with my kids head about his Gap clothes and your going to have a little taste of momma on the playground.

you be the judge - is this goth?

or this?

Thanks!

Where's Yia yia?

So this past weekend on Sunday we celebrated my mom's birthday (today) by having my dad, brother and sister-n-law over for a lunch of all my mom's favorite things (if you remember from last year, it's all "nice" a nice salad, a nice ham, etc.). This year mom would be the big 6 - 0. December and January can be such an emotional roller coaster - joyful because of all that we are blessed with, the season, the charity, Jesus, our family, warm fires, gifts, traditions, you name it there is so much to embrace and enjoy during this time of the year. Every so often though, melancholy sets in and I think of mom not being present for all this joy. Sure I know she's here inside me and my family, but I can't help but sometimes want her HERE sitting next to me sipping on some hot cocoa. Not to be a total drag, so back to lunch. We started doing this meal last year and it's a tradition I hope to continue until I'm not here anymore. I mean I can't exactly "celebrate" someones death, so I prefer to celebrate her life - and what better day than her birthday. I'd like to say we spend the whole time talking about mom, but I think even after two years it's still a bit fresh for us and lets be honest my dad and brother are quintessential men and aren't big ones for "discussing their feelings. " So we do what we do best, laugh and joke and think of some of the ridiculous things mom did, like the time that Dad ordered her a banana cream pie (her favorite) from Baker's Square (formerly Poppin' Fresh and mom never did get over the name change) and they picked it up and it was lemon meringue. Holy shit-fits batman, mom threw a toddler sized tandrum and carried on about how all she wanted was a banana cream pie for her birthday and off they all went to exchange pies. Mom didn't take food lightly.

All last week we kept telling the kids Silly Papa is coming down and he's going to babysit you and then we're going to celebrate Yia yia's birthday. Penny really gets into birthdays - "birfday, at my house?" "a birfday?" I think she thought Yia yia would finally show up. I mean we talk about her all the time, we have pictures of her - but in her little brain I think she thinks - "where is this elusive yia yia?" I confirmed that when she said, "where yia yia?" When I was setting the table on Sunday. It's kind of cute and sad all at once. It is one of the things that breaks my heart the most besides just wanting to talk to her about nothing from time to time. So in honor of my mom, I say Happy Birthday to you - I love you, I miss you and you are never, ever far from our thoughts!

The best part about this picture (other than my mom's killer fro and the adorable 15 month old me that she is holding) is what she wrote on the back: "Christmas 1977, aren't I glamorous." Yes mom, you were!

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best mom EVER!

So I've been informed that I am the best mom ever, EVER, did you hear me, EVER! Why? you might ask or How did you achieve such prestigious status? I can't put my finger on the exact moment, but I think the turning point was our trip to Tennessee over Thanksgiving. We went to the Dixie Stampede and if you've never attended such an event the meal is served to you while the show is going on. Here's the exciting part you eat the whole thing with just your hands. No silverware anywhere, at all, none, nada, zip. Now I'm a fan of chips and dip and cheese and crackers. I can even wield a sandwich, but the majority of my meals include silverware, plastic, real, silver plate, sterling, I'm not picky. So went the server poured my bowl of soup and dropped an entire chicken, albeit a small one, but an entire chicken on to my plate I was concerned not only for myself, but for my kids. Sure they're kids, they're messy and sloppy and like to eat with their hands anyway, right? Well both of my boys turned to me and said, "uh mom, where's the fork and spoon?" I was proud, very proud - hell they might as well have walked across the Harvard stage getting their diploma because I have children that are moderately civilized. So back to why I am mother of the year, for real.

For a long time I have fought the kids having toy guns - I personally don't have a problem with firearms so don't get all second amendment on me. But I want my children to understand that guns are not toys and should not be taken lightly. Not because I am concerned on my own turf, but you never know what someone has under their bed or in their nightstand or you get the point. I wanted my kids to understand that guns are real and you could die from them. So my plan was to make sure they just didn't have any so they wouldn't "play" guns or whatever it is little boys do during their imaginary heists. We had been doing well, they really didn't bug me about it, they had light sabers, so handled lasers that can cauterize your arm off or some other appendage were a okay. In the words of my great friend Leslie, "when he started biting his toast into the shape of a gun, it was a losing battle," I couldn't agree more. So after seeing my angels enjoy the show, eat with their fingers best they could, I didn't feel like I could deny them this one thing, this piece de resistance of boyhood toys. So I bought them each a pretend gun, it's kind of a rifle, but shorter, but not a revolver. Hell I don't know what it is, but I bought it. I imagine the looks on their faces when they turned the corner to see my booty were pretty close to what a 25 year old girl and a Tiffany engagement ring proposal might look like. "Oh my gosh mom, really, really? We can get them? You are getting us guns, we can buy guns???? OHMYGOSHYOUARETHEBESTMOMEVERRRRRRR!!!!!" And that my friends is how you become the best mom ever.

The boys have been really good with their "presents" the rule is you can't shoot someone in the face, you can't hit someone with the gun and please for the love of all things holy don't aim it at any of your sisters baby dolls or stuffed horses or the wrath of God will come down upon you (from Penny) and the guns will be thrown in the trash (by me). So we're all living nicely together so far. Our time together is relatively short, so we shall see, but I am confident that my little hooligan-er angels will follow the rules- because after all I am the best mom ever, which means I make the best rules ever, its that way or the bad boys home (we don't even offer the highway as an option).

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charlie brown has nothing on my kids

So in order to write or do things on the computer I usually need to distract my kids because they like to "sit" with me when I work, which never actually involves sitting. So today it was decorating the kids Christmas tree. If you asked me three years ago how many Christmas trees we have, I would scoff and tell you one, because who the hell has or needs more than that? Let's fast forward two years ago when my mom moved in with us. You see I come from compulsive decorating stock, and Christmas is like the Last Supper of decorating for individuals like that. Growing up we started with two trees, one kid tree and one pretty gold tree that we couldn't touch, ever, at all. When you would hang the ornaments my dad had a mantra - "the ornaments hang, they do not lay" and my favorite - "I hear clinking!" At the end of the season we would painstakingly take all the gold tinsel off the fancy tree and put it back into the shirt box from Penny's. You think I'm kidding, I am so not kidding. Then when we moved to the townhouse in Schererville, we maintained those trees and my brother got his own - he collected the Hallmark sports figures each year and had enough to support his own tree.

I guess at this point I should also tell you that Saint Nicholas comes to our house each year and delivers an new ornament in your shoes by the door. This is a spin off of the traditional St. Nick story where children would leave their shoes by the door for a special treat. My parents thought ornaments were the perfect thing, so I have been receiving an ornament in my shoe for thirty three years now - I now carry the tradition on with my own family and well you can do the math, we have a BOATLOAD of ornaments. But the best part is, we all remember getting them, when we got them and the kids love to run to their shoes the morning after to see what St. Nick brought them. Some people set their kids up with inheritances and such to start their lives, my kids may not have a pot to pee in, but they'll be able to decorate a killer tree when they graduate from college. So back to the trees -

After my brother and I moved out and mom was left to her own decorating she branched out into lots of little trees. By the time she moved to our home she was up to four in her three bedroom townhouse. Four. They were themed- in her room it matched her colors, burgundy and pink - angels and doilies, my old room had a doll inspired tree since that became her "doll" room where she displayed her antique dolls, then in Steve's room it became the kids tree - she decorated it with pictures of the kids, kid inspired ornaments, etc. Downstairs she had a tree in her dining room that matched her kitchen and dining space with wine, french toile and sparkly fruit. When mom moved here, we put up a tree in her room that was a hybrid of her bedroom, doll room and dining room ones. We then decided to put up a kid tree in the basement so we could hang ornaments mom had at her house and it would also provide and annex for our ever growing ornament collection.

So I still put up mom's hybrid tree, mostly to remember her by - it isn't much my taste, but it represents her and what she loved, and during this melancholy holiday season, I need all the happy reminders I can get my little hands around. We also have started putting up the kids tree so I had it shaped and the star on top and while I was writing my previous post my little darlings asked if they could decorate it. I said sure, why not? So this is what they did:

Drew explained that they couldn't reach that high, so they put them at all at the bottom, and that they ran out of room, so I'll need to do the rest, since I can reach higher. They did good, no? They are so proud of their work, I hardly have the heart to move anything they hung - I might not either mostly because my parents would never have let me do that to a tree let alone leave it- we'll see, I'm actually a bit concerned on the tree's structural stability, so I might have to move a few for fear of finding them all including the tree on the floor.

So now we have three, oh crap four - I bought a small 2 foot table top tree for my kitchen, instead of stashing candy in our advent calendar I stole my girlfriend Meg's idea and now put tiny ornaments that we hang each day. No sugar buzz before school and I'm not dipping into the 17th for my chocolate fix on the 5th. So now we have four - I'm one of those people now.

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So I think I'll be a blogger when I grow up...

After reading the book, "Bitter is the New Black" I've decided that I am going to be a blogger when I grow up. Now all I have to do is get some advertisers and alienate the people around me and I'm golden. Truth be told I don't think I would make it big - it appears the ones that everyone follow are really bitchy and have no trouble being mean to the friends and family around them. Unfortunately (and fortunately for you) I am not that mean - I don't like to intentionally hurt peoples feelings and make people mad. The website that I attached a few days ago with the New Moon spoof is a perfect example. The author and brains behind Jennsylvania was (maybe still is) as mean and sarcastic as they come. Talk about verbal diarrhea - no verbal filter at all - which made for some hilarious reading, but only hilarious because it was about me. See the rub? So maybe there is room in the world for a terribly normal, uninteresting person like myself? Perhaps. I find it amazing that my reader hits are growing every time I post, which is sort of like a drug - it makes me want to post some more. I go to bed thinking of things I could write of and find myself wanting to jot down what my kids are saying like a reporter at a press conference. So bottom line is thank you to all that read my words, thank you to those who come back and to the ones from sucksexful.com - I am concerned and touched, but mostly concerned.

So I was cuddling with Jon last night - now that he's 7 and 3/4 as he likes to point out - he gets to stay up later than the other two. Last night we decided after drawing killer robots for about an hour we'd hit the hay and read. See Jon is like me - a loshi-er. Not sure what that is - I'll tell you - it's short for "gooma-loshi" pronounce it the way it sounds - which is hybrid word for "gamoola." The spelling is all wrong - but for phonetic reasons lets keep it simple. My grandmother or "Yia yia" was Greek - I grew up hearing Greeklish all my life - she be telling you a story and some of it would be in Greek , some in English and it was your job to put it together. I also know that when it was something I wasn't suppose to hear it was all Greek - but I digress. I have learned, by having people who know real Greek that a lot of the words I grew up hearing weren't Greek at all, just Greeklish - so long story short (too late) gamoola is the Greeklish word for turd or poop. To make that a verb it became goomaloshi or to lay around like a turd. Pretty picture, no? So my brother and I shorted it further to "loshi" and there you have it. (Now I sound like the dad on My Big Fat Greek Wedding - which is so true, but I digress again) So we loshi'd and we read and he tells me a joke because Jon can't be still and quiet if you are three inches from him - lord help his future wife. "Hey mom, why couldn't the baby pirate see Pirates of the Caribbean? Because it was rated, RRRrrrrrrrrrr!" That one actually made me laugh out loud - normally his jokes aren't funny. "Knock, Knock" "Who's there?" "Me" "Me who?" "Me- poopy on your head" haaaahaaaa - you get the point. 7 and 3/4 year olds aren't known for their witty humor.

So back to this book - it was good, really good (Leslie this woman is your fashion soul sister, complete with pearls and Lacoste polos) - I like the fact that something like life is interesting enough to read and make me laugh. I like that a lot. I think we all have a story to tell in some fashion- it's just the right story at the right time. In any event thanks for listening, take care and Happy December 2nd - can you freaking believe it?

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