My Bella Figlia

Wordless Wednesday: Father Raccoon

2012-02-01T21:02:00.001-06:00

This Blog Post Just Published Itself

2012-01-31T22:06:00.004-06:00

No joke. I was looking at the blinking cursor when my hand slipped and a "View This Post" button popped up. So I "viewed this post" and saw a title-less word-less post. I am now editing that post. So that there is actually something on it.

Top Ten Things That I Am Thinking About Other Than This Post:

1) I need to help my bella figlia finish filling out her high school registration. My baby is going to high school. And not in an "eventually, someday" kinda way, either. Soon!

2) I need to put in a boring movie and sort paperwork.

3) I wish that movie could be The Sound of Music. It isn't boring, but I do know it really well, and so wouldn't have to pay close attention. My girl auditioned for the middle school musical today, and they're doing The Sound of Music, and I'm trying not to be really, really excited by that. Trying, but not really succeeding.

4) Every time I hear the word "succeed", it is immediately followed in my head by King Julian saying, "There will be no sucking seed!" Which is what I get for enjoying movies marketed for children.

5) I want to talk to my husband, but have to do all of this other stuff, first. Otherwise, I will just be thinking of all of this stuff and suck at conversing with him.

6) I need to do the dishes and throw the last load of clothes into the dryer, before they take over again.

7) I'd rather be knitting. Or crocheting. Or anything other than my list of "have to-s".

8) I really want to make sure that my boys get up on time to return to school in the morning. It turns out that I don't do well without the structure of them going to school. They've been sick (fevers, stuffed up noses and coughs) and they're med-ed to the gills asleep right now, hopefully healing enough to return to their classes tomorrow. Because I haven't gotten a damn thing done with them home the last two days.

9) I broke down and bought soda today. Trying not to beat myself up about bad food choices. In reality, they're only "less good" choices, but the guilt sneaks up on me anyway.

10) I forgot to water my plants this weekend. Another thing to catch up on! Argh.

Did you know that this post completes my first month of posting daily?! I may actually pull this resolution off! Only eleven more months to go. :)

Monday's Muse: Vegetable Stamping

2012-01-30T22:29:00.004-06:00

Quotable Sunday: She has never left me.

2012-01-29T22:30:00.002-06:00

I read The Wee Free Men by Terry Pratchett yesterday. I'd listened to it as an audiobook before, but as any devoted bibliophile knows: reading it with your own eyes is an entirely different thing. This passage made my heart ache and sing:

"The wheels of stars and years, of space and time, locked into place. She knew exactly where she was, and who she was, and what she was...'Now I know why I never cried for Granny,' she said. 'She has never left me.'"

SMMS2M: She Taught Me How To Wing It

2012-01-28T14:09:00.002-06:00

You wanna know what my mama taught me? She taught me how to wing it. I'm not sure that it was intentional. A few examples:

My mom couldn't sew. Didn't have a crafty bone in her body. She used to laugh and say that she could barely draw a stick figure. (I loved her stick figures, by the way: they were always in crayon, they always had big, open smiles, and if she was drawing for me, they always had a fat brown spiral of curls with a bow on top.) Do you think that this kept her from making our halloween costumes? Heck, no! If she was getting really fancy, she might hem something by breaking out the Stitch Witchery and the iron, but most of the time it was elmer's glue and a stapler. My sister has a story about a pair of aluminum foil angel wings that haunts her to this day.

My mom wasn't always prepared. I always wondered why she seemed so frazzled. (Then I had three kids and called her up and said, "I am SO SORRY! I had NO IDEA.") I don't think that I had a single band concert that didn't start with me at the door, waiting impatiently for her to pull into our driveway with a new skirt or pair of tights. I always had to change in the back seat. For anyone in my life who still wonders why I have absolutely no modesty: fifteen years of changing costumes in the wings AND CHANGING IN THE BACK SEAT!

My mom was a saint when it came to carting me to and from a kabillion rehearsals and performances over the years, but when it came to auditions? Drove. Me. Crazy. First of all, she always insisted that I audition with, "this song". You know, the song I've never heard, that song for which we have no accompaniment or sheet music? The song just enough out of my range to terrify me? For the audition in an hour that she told me about oh...roughly ninety minutes ago?! Did she know about these auditions before-hand? I have no idea, but I spent my adolescence taking a deep breath and walking onstage to sell my talent with very little in the way of a game plan.

True story: One day, I went on an outing with Mom and my Nana. I was about ten, and being alone with them was my version of heaven. Until we arrived at a bandstand, my Nana whipped an Annie dress and wig out of a bag and I was told that we were there for a singing competition. I was told that I would sing, "Tomorrow". "But I don't know all of the words to 'Tomorrow'!" I said. They looked at one another, confused. Hadn't I seen the movie? So they sat down by some vending machines and wrote the lyrics out on the back of an envelope one of them had in her purse and said, "You have about half an hour before you go on." I won the Michael Jackson album, 'Thriller'.

Another true story:

Okay, this one was kind of my fault: My mom told a director that I'd worked with in the past (let's call her "C.") that I'd star in a little personal project that C. was putting on over the summer. I read the script and it was crap. Basically, this woman had plagiarized a dozen movies, sprinkled it with pop songs and changed a few words to make it about saving the environment. I won't go into detail, but there was a Star Wars Cantina scene in the middle and I had to sing Bette Midler's 'From a Distance' for the finale. Yeah. So, I spent absolutely zero time that summer memorizing that crap (and doing another show). Which was fine... until Mom dragged me to the performance. (Thank you, Jesus, there was only one!) I got through that "show" by reading my next lines in the wings before every scene. Suck.

(I just realized, re-reading this, that I'm kind of making Mom sound like my performance pimp. Honestly, 90% of the time I was totally on board. The comic Russell Brand has a line in one of his routines that makes me laugh my ass off every time: The audience applauds and he says, "Don't bother with that. I hear it in my head, constantly." That? Is me.)

So how did all of these little life lessons help me in the long run?

Well, you know all of those pesky term papers that required 400 book references? The ones you were supposed to work on for months? I never worked on it until the night before. I'd go to the library and check out every book they had on my subject. I'd cart them home and write my bibliography first. Then I'd browse a few of the books that looked the most promising and write my paper, randomly pulling a sentence here and there to quote references. Got an A+. Every. Time.

A year or so ago, while working at the storage garage where we were storing the last of Mom's stuff, Lisa and I accidentally dropped the keys (to the van AND the storage garage) into the hole for the van's trunk lift support.

Now, we could have panicked. Well, we did swear, but then we MacGyvered a hook out of a McDonald's straw that was in my glove box, a piece of wire (from a straightened-out key ring), a piece of paper, and Lisa's earring. And then we fished our keys out.

Last week, my bella figlia came home jazzed and crowed, "Hey, Mom! I got a B+ on my book report for history day and I didn't even read the book! I was sitting in class, praying, 'Please don't pick me, please don't pick me..' so then of course she called my name, so I just got up and spouted off everything that I know about my subject and I got a B+!!!"

And I said, "Way to go, babe!" and high-fived her. It wasn't until afterward that I realized that maybe most parents wouldn't have considered that a good thing. She didn't do her assignment. She wasn't prepared. But she faced the music and she worked with what she had and she pulled it off. She's joined the ranks of all of the strong, smart women that have come before her and I am welcoming her with open arms. Her Nana would be so proud.

If you'd like to participate in the SMMS2M blog meme, grab the button from my sidebar and leave a link to your post in my comment section so that I can read what you wrote!

Friday Fill-Ins: January 27, 2012

2012-01-27T22:30:00.000-06:00

1. It's time to make the doughnuts.

2. Letter to self: you need de-icer for the front step and vegan mayo ... and don't forget the mail! Mail it!

3. I'm trying to drink more water.

4. I'm supposed to write the last funny comment I received here, but that's a little vague, I mean, do they mean on my blog or Facebook or in real life? Plus I'd have to wrack my brain/look that up and realistically, that's just not going to happen.

5. Please send patience, strength, and sunshine.

6. I know that our five year plan isn't going as well as we'd anticipated, but I'm praying hard because I'm in it for the long haul either way.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to maybe finish crocheting my galfarkin' afghan and watching The Kids Are All Right with Sissy, tomorrow my plans include cleaning and running errands spelled out in #2 and Sunday, I want to get paperwork sorted and filed!

Love Thursday: Love These

2012-01-26T23:42:00.004-06:00

Love this image:

Love this performance:

Love this song:

Happy Love Thursday.

Wordless Wednesday: Before He Turned 5

2012-01-25T22:32:00.003-06:00

New To-Do + Sleep

2012-01-24T22:42:00.006-06:00

I just had an amazing day with Jesse and the kids. I am so, so, sososo happy and blessed. I am also tired. Very, very tired. Between Jesse's wonked-out schedule and getting up with the kids this morning, I got about 3 1/2 hours of sleep last night. So--I'm gonna update my to-do list so that I can have a productive day tomorrow and call it a night!

I'll put it in a pretty color, too, because maybe that will motivate me:

1) Vacuum Sissy's room and LR.
2) ~~Get/find empty bin~~, pack w/remaining Xmas tchotchkes, store in garage.
3) Paperwork! (esp. Sis HS enrollment, ~~COBRA and email addy @ Rand McNally texted~~.)
4) Freaking clean my room, already!
5) Bookcase to garage.
6) Change boys sheets.
7) ~~Boys' baths~~.
8) Never-ending laundry.
9) Organize dry goods in kitchen.
10) ~~West haircut~~.
11) Donate clothes/dishes.

My room and the paperwork are larger jobs (and the laundry will always be an everyday thing, at least until my children are grown, I'm thinking) but the rest could conceivably get done tomorrow. If I go to sleep now. I'm going to sleep now.

"There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep." ~Homer

I would like to write a meaningful blog post today...

2012-01-23T21:38:00.002-06:00

but my son is wailing downstairs because he and his brother were horsing around in bed (after I told them for the thousandth time to stop because someone was going to get hurt) and he whacked his head. I've refused to show him sympathy, and that's what made him start crying. He's escalating as I type this. Apparently, he didn't like my suggestion that perhaps his bump would serve to remind him to obey me.

Also, Jesse is on his way home and I'd like to clear off his desk and our bed before he gets here (I have a habit now of letting my books accumulate on his side of the bed as I read them until the pile is as big as...Jesse. Not the same.)

West is still wailing. Must go and parent. *Sigh*

Sunday Stealing: The Never-ending Meme Ends

2012-01-22T19:53:00.009-06:00

36. Have you watched American Horror Story? Nope. I just googled it, and it looks too scary. I used to have to wait for my husband to get home before watching Xfiles, and even then could only watch with my back against the wall, wrapped in a blanket.

37. Baseball hat or toque? Okay, I just googled toque ("What the hell is a toque?!") and then realized that it really doesn't matter, because I don't wear either. On a really bitterly cold day, I might grab a scarf and drape it over my head before wrapping it around my neck, but that's about it.

38. Do you shampoo or soap up first in the shower? Always shampoo. Taught to wash from the head down.

39. Wet the toothbrush or brush dry with the toothpaste? Always wet. Dry with toothpaste is just yucky.

40. Pen or pencil? Pen. I mostly use pencils like chopsticks to hold my bun in place.

41. Have you ever gambled at a casino? Only if nickle slots count.

42. Have you thrown up on a plane? No.

43. Have you thrown up in a car? No. The only time I was close, my girlfriend Jenn said, "Don't you dare throw up in my car!", so I didn't.

44. Have you thrown up at work? Yes? I don't know/remember.

45. Do you scream on roller coasters? No.

46. How many shoes do you have? About 10 pairs, but most of those are warm-weather wear. Currently have three pairs in rotation: flats, black slip-ons and plain black moccasins.

47. Who was your first roommate? Heather Eckloff, at the art HS, MCAE (now PCAE).

48. What alcoholic beverage did you drink when you got drunk for the first time? Tequila Sunrises. My boyfriend at the time was mixing them, so they were lotsa Tequila, very little "sunrise"!

49. What was your first job? Working in a hospital laundry, when I was fifteen.

50. What was your first car? Chevy 'Ebrity (the C-E-L had fallen off). I loved that car!

51. When did you go to your first funeral? When my grandfather, Richard Rottman died.

52. How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown? About eight.

53. Who was your first grade teacher? Sister-Mary-I Don't Remember.

54. Where did you go on your first airplane ride? My boyfriend had a pilot's license and took me up in his Cessna above Anoka, MN when I was about fifteen. (No, my parents didn't know.)

55. When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was it with? I never did.

56. Who was your first best friend and are you still friends with them? My first best friend was Shanin Suminski. She lived across the street from me and I just loved her. Her dad came to my mother's funeral and told me that Shanin had died from a rare condition years ago when we were young women, and I was devastated.

57. Where did you live the first time you moved out of your parents’ house? The HS dorm? My Nana's? Jesse and my's first apartment? I'm not sure which applies.

58. Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day? My husband. Followed closely by one of my sisters.

59. Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or a groomsmen? Our dear friends Jenn and Wayne's wedding.

60. What is the first thing you do in the morning? Hit snooze. Put on my glasses.

61. What was the first concert you attended? Jason Mraz.

62. First tattoo or piercing? Ears pierced by my Auntie Mary and one of her girlfriends against my mom's wishes when I was twelve.

63. First celebrity crush? Christian Bale in Newsies.

SMMS2M: This Is Me, Making My Own Blog Meme

2012-01-21T22:15:00.003-06:00

Let me start out by saying that I love a good daily blog meme. Some of my best/easiest/most meaningful (to me) posts have started with a prompt from a meme. I definitely have my favorites, crutches that I cling to when I'm too brain-fried to know where to start but want the temporary stress relief that writing provides me. I've been thinking about this for awhile (over a year actually) and I think I'm ready to start my own meme. I decided that this would be a good idea because:

A)I have yet to find a Saturday blog meme that appeals to me.

B)My Bella Figlia is, first and foremost, a "mommy blog", and

C)I am finally in a place where I can talk about my mother, where I want to talk about my mother, and I need a safe place to do that. A place to put down all of the things that I don't want to forget and maybe also work out who I am without her. A place where I can maybe even come to terms with my feelings of anger and guilt. Doesn't that sound fun?!

We all of us had a mother, and things that she said and did (or didn't say and do) affected us. She taught us things. Even if she was absent, her absence taught us things. Many of us are mothers. We, in our turn, are saying and doing things that are affecting our children. I want to write about that.

So--every Saturday I will post under the title "Songs My Mother Sang To Me" (SMMS2M for short.) Right now, I think that I have a readership of roughly occasionally one, but if you are reading this, and if you are occasionally moved to write about your mother, or being a mother, or that mother-f6@%er that flipped you the bird on the street, and it's a Saturday...please feel free to grab the button in the sidebar and leave a link to your post in the comment section here so that I can read it.

Love/Hate

2012-01-20T23:42:00.002-06:00

I love that I've managed to keep dishes and laundry washed and put away lately. It's such a small thing, really, but pays off big-time when I'm starting the day. The laundry, especially, is a big deal, as I'm notoriously bad at getting it put away, often leaving it stacked and folded in towering baskets for weeks at a time. So, go me!

I hate how tired I've been these last few days. Is it because I've cut out caffeine again? Or maybe just due to the migraine coming and going? Seriously, I'm practically narcoleptic, and I'm not getting a damn thing done. That ends tomorrow morning, I swear! Though I may have to lean on the caffeine crutch to make that true.

Tomorrow, my girlfriend Adrienne is going to visit with her kids at lunchtime: we're planning on ordering pizza for kids and then scampering off to the Olive Garden for lunch, ourselves.

Other than that, the plan is to tackle more of the dreaded to-do list (especially the paperwork and bills-argh!) and hopefully have a few long conversations on the phone with Jesse, because with neither of us feeling well the last few days, calls between us have been few and far between.

I'm looking forward to posting tomorrow: I have an idea!

Love Thursday: I Have A Migraine

2012-01-19T23:16:00.000-06:00

So today I love:

Obedient, largely self-sufficient children,

my very loyal dog (who refuses to leave my side),

migraine meds,

the dark,

and silence.

Happy Birthday, Natalie!

2012-01-18T00:08:00.053-06:00

Today is my sister Natalie's yetheretherhythm! I mean, her birthday! And so today I am dedicating my post to pictures of her beautiful face. And beautiful Natalie thoughts.

Wasn't she adorable? I loved her right from the start. Clearly.

So, let's see...I'm still twenty-five, and she's three years younger than me, so that makes her...twenty-two! Happy 22nd Birthday, Nat! Boy, do you look great.

Like a doll, only better!

I went looking for my two favorite pictures of you of all time. You know, the close-up profile shot taken when we came to visit you in Akron, OH, years ago? Your hair was bobbed and your sweater matched your eyes. And the one that dad took in the technicolor sweater when you were about fifteen? (I have the shot of you and Lee from that same session, but you have gum in your mouth and you'd slap me if I posted that one, maybe.) No dice, otherwise. But while I was looking for those and not finding them, I found all of these and got all farklempt.

"Mwah! Man, am I ever good at this big sister thing."

I'm sorry that I didn't let you play with me and Shannon.
I'm sorry for hitting you with that doll by dad's stereo.
I'm sorry for leaning on you too hard during our teens.
I'm sorry for every time you heard, "Oh, you're Angela's sister!"
I'm sorry for hogging so much of Mom's attention and time.
I'm sorry that it took you so long to grow hair.

When I was about thirteen, Natalie climbed into my bed and told me, "You're my best friend." She looked completely lost and my heart broke for her. I wasn't even a particularly good sister. Looking into her eyes I said to myself, "If you're the best she's got, you're gonna have to do better than this." And I have thanked God a million times since for that moment, because the truth is that I was the one receiving a gift: a companion and a confidant and a champion. (She has turned on unsuspecting detractors like a Fury, and defended me when I couldn't defend myself, so I warn you all: don't come against me ,or anyone one else that she loves, 'cause she'll cut a bitch!)

See? Fierce!

So, for the girl who knows all of my buttons and how to push them, the girl who's loved me and hated me when I've loved and hated her, the girl who grew up with me and laughed with me and cried with me and is not only one of my beloved sisters, but one of my dearest friends:

Happy Birthday, Baby. I am so glad that you're here.

TTT: Cutting It Close

2012-01-17T23:05:00.001-06:00

Fifty-four minutes before today ends and I have yet to post! Here are the Top 10 reasons why:

1)My to-do list. Still plugging away, still consuming my days, still unfinished. I know that I will die with a to-do list, really I do get it, but this stuff? Really does need to get done. Srsly.

2)My cell phone. Yes, I have thought of, "Don't answer it" but that doesn't apply to some people. Namely, my husband, my sister and my daughter.

3)Pinterest. I kinda just figured it out and oh. my. god! Not only can you spend HOURS "pinning" stuff, but it gives you the means to find fun projects that you can do, thereby using up even more of your precious time. I am doomed.

4)A pesky little thing called "parenting". It turns out that getting kids up and clean and dressed and fed and driven and educated and fed and entertained and picked up and fed and finished with homework and disciplined and consoled and fed and put to bed takes time. Lots and lots of time.

5)Visiting my sister. Had an awesome time. Two-and-a-half hours of awesome, to be exact.

6)Facebook. And Pinterest! Again! What if the interwebz is secretly Satan? Maybe. I'm thinking maybe yes.

7)Boys. Boys that would. not. go. to. bed! Even after two warnings. And the threat of dire consequences. And being scolded by Daddy via cellphone. Our youngest bounced up and down (making monkey noises) while his dad was scolding him, if that gives you any idea? Jesus.

8)Helping my husband do trip-planning for his loads in the truck. He was very tired and very unhappy and kinda unprepared. Which is fine. But it took time.

9)My Bella Figlia needed the computer for homework again tonight. Which she didn't announce until quarter to ten. Which is like, 15 minutes later than she should be up on a school night in the first place. Come to think of it, why didn't she use the laptop? Why didn't I use the laptop?! Argh.

10) I realized that I didn't (don't) have the time to write up the RTT post that has been brewing in my head all day long. Darn it.

It's 11:43. I've gotta link this baby up and hit "publish post"! *wipesbrowfallsdown*

For more Top Ten lists, visit Oh Amanda!

Monday's Muse: Making Buttons 4 My Blog

2012-01-16T17:41:00.000-06:00

Today I've spent hours putzing around on Adobe Photoshop and Photobucket making blog buttons for daily blog prompts.

I decided to make one for my friend Tamara's blog so that I could easily access it from mine. Tamara, besides being my oldest and dearest friend, is an artist, and therefore an art snob. It is likely that she will spit on my color choices secretly. (I tried, Tam, I tried!) I'm sure that she can and will make her own gorgeous button when she feels like it. Anyway, here's what I came up with:

My girl is STILL not done with her homework and needs the computer, so I'll leave it at that today. Peace out.

Sunday Stealing: The Never-ending Meme Parts 1&2

2012-01-15T19:27:00.000-06:00

1. Song that always makes you sad? A Beautiful Mess by Jason Mraz

2. Last thing you bought? Groceries and Cat Litter

3. Last person you argued with? Walker Cash

4. Do you put butter before putting the peanut butter on? What?! No!

5. One of your stuffed animals’ names as a kid? I honestly don't remember.

6. Did you ever at one time own a Barenaked Ladies CD? Yes.

7. Favorite day of the week? Probably Saturday.

8. Favorite sundae topping? Caramel.

9. Did you take piano lessons? No, but I wish that I had.

10. Most frequent song played? By me? Probably Turning Tables by Adele.

11. T.V. show you secretly enjoy? Hoarders.

12. Would you rather play basketball or hockey? Basketball.

13. Date someone older or younger? Younger.

14. One place you could travel right now? Downstairs.

15. Do you use umbrellas? It's probably 50/50. Sometimes I prepare, and sometimes I just let myself get soaked.

16. Do you know all the words to the Canadian national anthem? That'd be a no.

17. Favorite cheese? I don't eat cheese anymore, but when I did I'd have had to say cream cheese. Now, Tofutti's Better Than Cream Cheese...

18. The Smith’s or The Cure? The Smith's. Hate The Cure.

19. Do you prefer blondes or brunettes? Brunettes.

20. Best job you ever had? Loved managing the restaurant for the first few years.

21. Did you go to your high school prom? Both of them, only we called it "Gala".

22. Perfect time to wake up? In a perfect world? 10am.

23. Perfect time to go to bed? Midnight.

24. Do you use your queen right away in chess? Never. Always save her and the king for the end.

25. Ever been in a car accident? Many.

26. Closer to mom or dad…or neither? Mom.

27. What age is this exciting life over for you? Are you asking that I predict my death? 80 sounds good.

28. What decade during the 20th century would you have chosen to be a teenager? 80's

29. Favorite shoes you have EVER owned? I had a pair of brown suede high-heeled boots that I wore forever. Not sure if they were my favorite, but that's what came to mind.

30. Do you have an article of clothing you have had since you were in high school? No.

31. Were you in track and field? God, no.

32. Were you ever in a school talent show? Always.

33. Have you ever written in a library book? Never.

34. Allergic to? Lactose intolerant.

35. Favorite fruit? Raspberries, lately.

To Do List

2012-01-14T23:11:00.004-06:00

1) ~~Write to-do list~~
2) ~~Wash dishes~~, ~~garbage out~~, ~~table cleared~~
3) ~~LR blitzed~~, vacuumed, ~~tree down/ornaments boxed and put away~~
4) ~~Garland/poinsettias et cetera down and stored~~
5) ~~Blitz Sissy's room~~/vacuum/~~change sheets~~
6) ~~Straighten back closet~~/bookcase to garage
7) ~~Clean boy's room~~/~~put clean laundry away~~/~~vacuum~~/change sheets
8) Laundry (whites) washed/dried/folded/PUT AWAY
9) ~~Wipe down sink and mirror in bathroom~~
10) Clean my room, clean my room, clean my room!
11) OMG Paperwork! (esp. Sis HS enrollment)
12) ~~Garbage out~~
13) ~~Baths and~~ ~~homework done~~ ~~and clothes laid out for Tuesday~~
14) Mail COBRA payment
15) ~~Change litter~~
16) ~~Water plants~~
17) ~~Clip Katie's nails~~
18) Get/find empty bin, pack w/remaining Xmas tchotchkes, store in garage
19) ~~Clean out van~~

Friday Fill-Ins: Friday the 13th

2012-01-13T22:45:00.000-06:00

1. When I looked out the window this morning I was bummed out to find that MN has finally figured out that it's winter-time and gotten cold.
2. Quantum physics doesn't (don't) make sense to me.
3. Remind me why I decided to post everyday, again?
4. Making and/or creating stuff is something I love to do!
5. TP is (are) the initials of Jason Mraz's fiance, Tristan Prettman.
6. I cleaned the refrigerator recently and I found an empty juice pitcher.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to a movie with my bella figlia, tomorrow my plans include getting my $h!* together and Sunday, I want to prepare well for the coming school week and talk to my kids about Dr. MLK Jr., and the importance of what he did!

How I Wasted My Afternoon: Plarn

2012-01-12T22:24:00.000-06:00

I may have just proven to myself that my greatest talent is for procrastination. I don't know how, but I somehow got signed up to receive emails from a website called Knitting Paradise. I followed the link in one of the emails to their forum and guess what?! Did you know that you can knit and/or crochet the plastic bags that you get from the grocery store? Crazy, right? So of course I had to read all about it and then pull all of the bags out of the cupboard by the fridge and spend most of the afternoon cutting up (and then linking and crocheting with) them. Because apparently I am insane. I will post a picture tomorrow of the useless thing that I have crocheted so far. Until then, talk (or laugh and point) amongst yourselves.

Wordless Wednesday: Journal As Muse

2012-01-11T19:01:00.000-06:00

Trying to put little boys to bed is like...

2012-01-10T21:42:00.000-06:00

...trying to cram a pack of feral cats into a mesh bag. You lay there with them, trying to trick them into falling asleep by breathing deeply and assuring them that yes, you will open the door when you leave their room and saying that no, you don't know what Pokemon evolves into Pignite and praying to the dear little baby Jesus that you won't fall asleep with this one before he falls asleep so that you can get up to put the next one to sleep, where you will start all over again, trying to stay awake long enough to keep your stoopid resolution by posting something on your blog before midnight. And then you realize that you don't know what the hell you're going to blog about, anyway.

My bella figlia (who is reading over my shoulder) thinks that I should blog about how funny she is, but since this family likes to remind me that I am not funny, that ain't gonna happen, kid. (But for the record, she is flippin' hilarious.)

Did you know that one of my pettest of peeves is starting a written sentence with "and"? And then I re-read Neil Gaiman's poem, "Instructions", and he does it like, fi'ty times. So even though I've hated it for years, I thought, "If Neil Gaiman does it, how bad can it be?" So now I'm giving myself permission to start sentences with "and". See, I've done it twice in this post, already! What a rebel.

Winter and I saw a Chevy Cobalt today and it was red. What is wrong with people?! Same deal with the Toyota Sequoia. If they're gonna call it Sequoia, it should damn well be made entirely of wood and be connected to every other Toyota Sequoia on the gd planet! Just saying.

I'm just cranky. Here:

a link to Instructions by Neil Gaiman

and a few relevant quotes.

"There was never a child so lovely but his mother was glad to get him to sleep." ~RALPH WALDO EMERSON

"But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep." ~ROBERT FROST

Good night, my darlings. (Now close your eyes and close your mouth and go. to. sleep!)

Monday's Muse: Wreck This Journal

2012-01-09T20:09:00.000-06:00

Click here to view Wreck This Journal on Amazon.

It was just a few days before Christmas, and I was at Barnes and Noble buying a gift for my brother-in-law. I was also searching in vain for a paperblanks 2012 slim dayplanner, because my husband buys me one every year except THIS year B&N didn't seem to carry them, goddammit. There I was, searching the end-caps, unaware that my muse sat around the corner, just waiting for me. It had been left on a shelf that it clearly did not belong on. From the moment that I set eyes on it, I wanted it. Oh, I didn't admit that, at first, not even to myself. I flipped through it, thinking, "This is great!" I told myself that it would be perfect for my bella figlia...only, I'd already bought her more than enough gifts. Several moments passed as I warred with myself, trying to justify buying it, before the truth dawned on me: what I really wanted, in my heart of hearts, was to buy it for myself. It was such a selfish thought that I shivered a little with the thrill it gave me. It sat, fat and smug in my hands, whispering, "Buy me." So I did.

Quotable Sunday: Eyes

2012-01-08T20:41:00.000-06:00

"If you haven't cried, your eyes can't be beautiful." ~Sophia Loren

"Girls talk to each other like men talk to each other. But girls have an eye for detail." ~Amy Winehouse

"It's easy to fool the eye but it's hard to fool the heart." ~Al Pacino

"To judge between good or bad, between successful and unsuccessful would take the eye of a God." ~Anton Chekov

"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." ~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Haiku

2012-01-07T22:26:00.000-06:00

Ninja song brings grief;
do not drive off of the road,
blinded by your tears.

Friday Fill-Ins: Twelfth Night

2012-01-06T11:52:00.000-06:00

1. Discussions about theology with my husband are wonderful and interesting and keep me constantly evolving, questioning, seeking, finding.
2. My husband leaves again for the truck in two hours, and I hate saying, "goodbye."
3. I think it's time for me to finally pack away all of our beautiful holiday decorations for another year. Planning on picking up a few ornament storage bins this weekend for just that purpose.
4. Playing with my 'Wreck This Journal' puts a smile on my face.
5. Maybe sometime , someday, I will learn balance. I am a very black&white thinker, and would like to figure out a way to merge parts of my life that I rigidly compartmentalize. It doesn't always have to be one or the other, Ange!
6. My family gives me strength. So does protein, and memory.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to celebrating 12th night with the children after taking their daddy to his truck, tomorrow my plans include a visit to Half Price books and Michael's to redeem Christmas gift cards, cleaning and crochet, and maybe a visit with my girlfriend Adrienne and her children and Sunday, I want to sleep in!

Love Thursday: Walker's Game "Beanie Boo Adventures"

2012-01-05T14:24:00.000-06:00

"The secret of art is love." ~Antoine Bourdelle

Wordless Wednesday: Work In Progress

2012-01-04T12:30:00.000-06:00

Free Crochet Pattern: Modern Alchemy Afghan

TTT: I Can't Believe That I'm Out of Ideas Already

2012-01-03T18:37:00.000-06:00

You heard me. Day Three and I'm already out of things to write about. Okay, that's not EXACTLY true. I thought about writing a Random Tuesday post. Walker cracked me up this morning when I pulled into a parking spot (that I haven't parked in before) before his ECFE class and he said, "Um, Mama? You park really randomly!" I almost choked on my tongue when West asked me, "Mama? Why don't we decorate for Christmas?" Um...you mean other than the tree and the wreath and the mistletoe and the christmased-up planter outside and the banister garlands and the potted poinsettias on the staircase that we've tripped over every flippin' day this month and the nativity sets and the window clings? I don't know, kid. Apparently, no outside lights=we don't decorate for Christmas. But those two things? Not really enough random.

So then I thought of posting a quote that I like, about how some years ask questions and some years answer them, followed by a list of the things that I really like. Because the answers to who I think I am and what I really love, while still evolving, were hard won. But that seemed kind of daunting after the clock ticked past 3:15pm (when I pick the kids up from school).

So then I thought about posting about the Christmas gift that I bought myself this year for $13.95 called Wreck This Journal. I love it. Almost more than I can say. (And) I will post about it, I swear, but that will involve pictures...and I don't want to mess around with taking and downloading and posting pictures today.

So then I thought, "Screw it! There's gotta be a painless Tuesday meme out there..." So I googled that, and ended up considering making my own poetry chapbook and binding books by hand. Because I really love books, and making things. Which reminded me that I want to play around with the idea of altered books as art. But there is no way that I am going to alter a book, or bind one, and post pictures of that mess by midnight. Moving on--

Oooh, and then I remembered an article that my girlfriend posted on Facebook that really made me think about how my generation is parenting our kids and how I, personally, am raising my kids, particularly my bella figlia, but now that I've blathered on about all of the things that I've decided NOT to write about, at least today, do you really have that kind of time?! I didn't think so.

(And) then, I found it. A shining light, nay, a beacon! leading me out of the darkness and into the land of Something To Blog About: Top Ten Tuesday!

So, here, without further ado, is my official Tuesday blogpost:

Angela's Top Ten List of Things That I Want to Eat, But Am Too Lazy to Prepare Tonight

1) Bean and Corn Salsa with Avocado
2) Lentil Stew
3) Pasta Salad with Veggies and Vegan Mayo
4) Salad (Lettuce, Tomato, Olives, Onions and Newman's Own Olive Oil & Vinegar)
5) Whole Grain Breakfast Bowl
6) Boca Burgers and Onion Rings
7) Reheated Pasta w/Really Yummy Red-Sauce from Napoli's
8) Quaker Oat Squares w/Soy Milk
9) Canned Amy's Vegetable Soup and Cold Canned Green Beans
10) Iced Chai w/out The Ice

Yes, you heard me right. Pouring a bowl of cereal, nuking pasta and opening a can of green beans (which I actually like cold, believe it or not) are beyond me tonight. Also, I know that chai is a beverage, but what with the brewing and the mixing and the sweetening and the chilling, it's a ridiculous amount of work, so I'm totally counting it. Just to be clear, I will be making chicken and rolls and an as-yet-undecided-upon veggie for my children's dinner, but I? Will be eating chips and hummus.

What I've Done and What I Should Be Doing

2012-01-02T17:52:00.000-06:00

And now let us welcome the New Year
Full of things that have never been.
-RAINER MARIA RILKE

There were a lot of things that I'd planned on doing as 2011 turned into 2012. I was going to write my dad a birthday letter, finally celebrate Boxing Day, clean and donate and read and crochet and drive to Mankato. Instead, I passed New Year's Eve in my bed, relying on my children (mainly my bella figlia) to keep me in kleenex, orange juice and Nyquil.

The new day (year!) dawned and I had to call my dad and tell him that the kids and I wouldn't make it to his girlfriend's place to celebrate his birthday. I would've been really, really bummed if I had been getting enough oxygen to string two thoughts together. Or maybe it was all that cold medicine? Whatever.

Anyway, an hour later my little sister called to ask if she and the kids could drop by, because Dad had cancelled. I said, "Sure, why not." Which seems mean except isn't because I couldn't infect them because they're the ones who infected ME.

So they came over, and then my dad came over (his girlfriend, Pam, wasn't feeling well but he really did want to see us) and so they all came over and cleaned my house and bought me groceries. Which, come to think of it, is a pretty great way to start the year. For me. Maybe not for them? Nah, they seemed fine.

They went home and I put boys to bed and watched a movie and said goodbye to Travis, who had to fly back to GA in the morning to resume drill-sergeanting (it's a word, shut-up!) and then put Sissy to bed and then I went to bed and then it was today.

I started today day off strong, BREATHING! Woot!

Made sausage and pancakes for the chidlers, and then crocheted for awhile, a skill that I just obtained a month or so ago, while the kids begged for "just one more!" PBS show before their baths.

Gave those squirrelly boys baths and clipped their nails (oh the horror!) and did laundry after Sis's shower and then my nephew Josh came over and I made lunch and crocheted some more and wrote a grocery list and then defrosted the van and went grocery shopping and picked up my husband, who bitched MIGHTILY because I was 20 minutes late, from the truck stop.

Now I am home alone (!!!) and have been listening to the water for my pasta boil on the stove the whole time I've been typing because if I don't use the computer NOW, I will never get to once everyone comes BACK. At least not in time to post today. Because I'm going to post every day.

Also, I can't find my blue crochet hook.

(And) now you're all caught up.

Tomorrow, then.

*Mwah!*

New Year's Resolution

2012-01-01T23:50:00.000-06:00

This year I will post a blog daily. Future posts will be much longer than this. Promise.

Polygamy Averted

2011-09-04T09:46:00.000-05:00

My boys told me this morning that they plan to live together when they're grown. In a house with a lab in the basement. With metal walls where they can invent Pokemon and experiments like Stitch. And they're going to have one wife. "Yeah, we're gonna share her!" Walker nodded emphatically. "Um, don't you think that could get a little too complicated?" I asked. West's face fell until I suggested that maybe they could marry sisters. "Yeah, that'll work!" they high-fived and went on their merry way, but I stood there stunned for several minutes, mind-whacked. They are SEVEN and FOUR, for crissakes, but they had clearly worked this out some time before between them? I'm glad that they're close, and I'd throw in an "LOL" here, but it's really more of an OMG!

The Picture

2011-08-20T19:41:00.000-05:00

*Big-time thanks to my dad for sending this to me!

Songs My Mother Sang To Me

2011-08-19T00:52:00.000-05:00

There is a picture that I have been trying to find. It is not in the box with the other black and white photos from my childhood. There is a blank spot in the album that it belongs in, even though every other photo from the series is in it's place. In the lost shot my mother is holding me in her lap, her dark head bent over mine as she feeds me from a spoon. I know that I have the damn thing, but I can't find it, which is typical, I guess.

Grief is not the same animal two years out. Hell, I am not the same animal two years out, and neither is she.

My days are filled with things that my mother taught me. This week, especially, I can't even do laundry without feeling her over my shoulder, her voice in my ear. I have moments when I think, "Mom" out of the blue and then have to fight for breath while my heart pounds and I try not to go into the light. I really wish I could find that picture.

I wish that I could write something perfect that would express how much I love her, how much I miss her. My sister said that she missed kissing Mom. If I close my eyes and concentrate really hard I can still feel Mom's cheek against mine, her hair under my hand. I can hear her voice, smell her perfume. I want to write something that could bring her back to me.

Wanting that picture is driving me crazy, and I really hate this idea, but it has occurred to me that it's just a stupid analogy. I know in my head that I have the damn thing somewhere, but I can't see it, and not seeing it isn't enough.

I sing for my mother when I'm alone in the car. She used to push me to sing for her, on tape, onstage, in public, and then she would complain about my song choices. "Would it kill you to sing something upbeat?!" she would say. The answer to that, of course, is still, "Yes. Yes it would." But I remember everything that you said, everything you taught me. I remember all of the songs that you sang for me. I am listening all the time, trying to follow both your examples and your horrible warnings, and I still love you very, very much.

Five Question Friday: March 4th, 2011

2011-03-03T20:15:00.000-06:00

1. Have you ever forgotten your child in a store or at school?

No. But I have left my child with someone (my sister, husband, et cetera), forgotten that my child was no longer in the van with me, and had a mini-heart-attack when I've turned to say something to them and realized that they weren't there!

2. Where did you go on your very first date? (Like...first first, not first with your spouse or current significant other!)

I went to Lilliput (a miniature golf course) with a beautiful boy when we were in the 5th grade. Afterwards, we took a walk in my backyard holding hands and talking about our favorite songs (his was Paperback Writer by the Beatles) and then we went inside and watched Crocodile Dundee with my little sisters. I got really mad at my middle sister because she insisted on sitting in his lap (he really was cute, and my sister knew that she was just young enough to get away with it-she's no dummy!)

3. What's your "silly" fear? (We're not talking water and heights.)

White spiders. A spider of any other color can crawl on my face for all I care...tarantula? No problem. But if it's a white one my skin crawls and I scream like I'm, oh... maybe 5? (And) then someone has to come and save me!

4. Confrontation: do you cause it, deal with it as it comes, or run far far away?

Take it as it comes, baby. "Baby steps. Baby steps to the car..."

5. Wood floors or carpet?

I would looove hardwood floors, because that is what I grew up with (but unfortunately, for now, I have carpeting, and even worse, LOTS of ceramic tiling.)

Love Thursday: I Love When My Bella Figlia Sings

2011-03-03T18:19:00.000-06:00

Old MacDonald Had A Random...

2011-03-01T10:02:00.000-06:00

Me: "Old MacDonald had a farm! E I E I O! Aaaand on that farm he had a..."

Walker: "Kids!"

Me: "Kids? E I E I O! With a..."

Walker: "Oh yeah!"

Me: "Here, and a.."

Walker: "Oh yeah!"

Me: "There! Here a.."

Walker: "Great!"

Me: "There a..."

Walker: "Uh-huh!"

Me: "Everywhere a.."

Walker: "Oh yeah!"

Me: "Old MacDonald had a farm! E I E I OOOOOO!"

Battle Hymn of the Tiger Husband Mother

2011-01-15T21:05:00.000-06:00

My husband has given me an assignment. It came about like this:

Currently in Illinois, my beloved called home just in time to hear me reach my uppermost threshold in exasperation, very close to having a nervous breakdown as I buckled under the relentless din that Thing One and Thing Two were dishing out. I kept sending them away, insisting on just a few quiet minutes in which to speak to their father, but they kept rubber-banding back to me, mouths and voices going incessantly. Jesse finally instructed, "Turn on them and yell, 'GO! NOW!', short and sharp." Fed up, I did, and they froze, mid-yap. Cowed and shrinking, they slunk down the stairs to their room. The baby said, "Mom, that made me scared of you," but I was so damn grateful for the silence that I didn't let it bother me.

For the first time in a long time, my OTRT love and I were able to have the semblance of an actual conversation. He said, "There's this book on the best-seller's list. I can't remember what it's called...something kinda like...the title's along the lines of 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon'. Anyway, it's about this Chinese woman who married a Jewish man and they made an agreement-the children would be brought up in the Jewish faith, but raised using the "Chinese" method of parenting."

I laughed and told him that I knew what he meant, having read everything that Amy Tan ever published. A "Chinese" mother doesn't worry about their child's psyche: bring home an A- and she'll harangue and harass and call you 'worthless' until you get back in line and bring home that A+, thank-you-very-much!

We laughed some more, and then he said, "Maybe you should raise the kids a little more Chinese." I said, "That would mean insulting Winter when she struggled with math." He said, "That's right," and then I got dead serious and said, "I could never do that. I don't believe in that." I could hear him smile over the phone and his voice softened and he said, "I know that."

I swapped out the boys' toy boxes for them for a bit more reprieve, and then my husband asked, "When was the last time you worked on your book?"

I stammered, "No, no. I'm having some sort of...problem. I mean, I've looked at it, but you don't understand, I can't even bring myself to write a blog. I can't even write a letter, and I don't know..."

He interrupted me, "That's it! I'm raising you Chinese."

I burst out laughing, "What?"

"Seriously. You're worthless. Other people write books! (I'm cracking up) No excuses!"

"God, I love you!"

"Here's your assignment..."

"No, seriously, I can't! I have to do dishes, and..."

"No Excuses! (More gales of laughter) Your assignment is to look up that book on the New York Times bestseller list-just type in bestseller and Chinese-and then write a blog about it. 500 words."

"Jesse, I..."

"Shut it! I'm raising you Chinese! Do it or I'll call you worthless again!"

"Okay," I laughed, "but if I don't get a comment from Jesse Mohn on my blog telling me that I'm worthless, I'm not doing any more assignments."

"That won't work. You know that I don't have access to the internet out here. I can't..."

"You're worthless! No excuses!

"Other people can access the internet...! (more laughter)"

Can you see why I love him so much? So. I looked up "bestseller Chinese" and found this article. I'd told Jesse that I wouldn't mind reading it (the book), just to understand the thought process behind the "Chinese mother" way of parenting, and after reading this article I have to change "wouldn't mind reading it" to "really want to read it." A lot of Western readers are screaming, "Abuse!" after taking in a few of Chua's examples of "tough love", but two quotes from Amy Chua's article/excerpt ("Western parents are concerned about their children's psyches. Chinese parents aren't. They assume strength, not fragility..." and "It's not that Chinese parents don't care about their children. Just the opposite. They would give up anything for their children. It's just an entirely different parenting model.") have me leaning further into the "for her" camp than the "against her" one.

One of the mantra's that the Mohn babies have heard from (and will continue to hear from) Jesse and I ad nauseum is, "Sometimes in life you have to do things that you don't want to do. Sometimes (in life) you have to do things that are hard." I think that Amy Chua's brand of parenting is designed to prepare kids for that. Do I have the stomach for her method? Not so much. But I can't condemn it, either.

(And) hey, that's how my husband raised me, and look how great I turned out! Seriously, though, what do you think? (No, not about how I turned out! About "Chinese mothering"...) Check out the article (linked above) or the book and give your opinion in the comments. Or else just, you know, tell me I'm pretty.

Spin Cycle: Behind the Blog

2010-03-19T12:42:00.000-05:00

The first post that I ever wrote on Blogger explained the meaning behind "My Bella Figlia". For the pronunciation of "figlia", go here and click on the listening feature. To hear Pavarotti sing the aria Bella Figlia dell'amore, click here.

I first started blogging on the (now defunct) parenting site Maya's Mom. It was a wonderful community and I "met" several wonderful women, like BonggaMom and Jamie Lee. They gave daily blog prompts like "3 things I want to remember about my kids..." and "My Moment Wednesday". The site was sold to Babycenter, which is lovely. Really. It's just not Maya's Mom. All of my Maya's Mom posts are archived here. Several posts are missing photos as the save option allowed for text only. I keep telling myself that I'll get around to restoring these posts someday, but...*sigh*)

I generally blog in the morning while Sesame Street is on. I used to be more proactive about it, blogging at night and setting up posts for the following day, but I haven't done that in a while. I've found that the mommy-blog medium just works for me. I love being able to incorporate pictures and music to my posts, and I love that, in some ways at least, the internet is more permanent than a journal or a scrapbook. I love being able to connect not only with people like me, but with people that come from other experiences and truths. I want my kids to know who I was when I'm gone, not just as their mother, but as a person, and I want to be able to look back with rheumy eyes and remember those 3 things about them that I didn't want to forget.

For more blog-revealing spins, head on over to Sprite's Keeper.

RTT: "But we're all mad, here..."

2010-03-09T10:27:00.000-06:00

I saw a bumper sticker while driving My Favorite Middle to school today that made me furious. It said, "Marriage=" and then had restroom symbols of a man and a woman on it. I wanted to ram their car. I wanted to write, "OR Marriage= Man + Man OR Marriage= Woman + Woman" in black Sharpie on their pristine white paint-job. I wanted to key their vehicle. Because ignorance and baseless fear make me forget what Mr. Rogers taught me.

I went to see the new Alice in Wonderland movie and cannot for the life of me understand why reviewers aren't getting behind it. Several reviews essentially said that it was "too weird". Really? If you approach anything referring to Wonderland without expecting (nay, embracing) the weird, well then, you just deserve what's coming to ya, that's what I have to say about that! My only complaint *Spoiler Alert* is that Alice doesn't choose to stay in Underland. My favorite parts: Johhny Depp's Mad Hatter's Scottish personality reciting The Jabberwock, the moment when The Hatter says to Alice, "Why is it that you always seem to be either too big or too small?" and the psychology of the 2 queens' relationship as sisters. I could write an entire post based on that last one alone...I also love Syfy's Alice. It just came out on dvd, and while the climax of that movie is sadly lacking, the rest of it is marvelous. Plus, Andrew Lee Potts' Hatter and Matt Frewer's White Knight are too good to be missed! Srsly.

I've been crafty lately (as in cutting and pasting, not rubbing my hands together muttering and laughing to myself.) My inner artist is screaming at me a lot, and my "real" life is suffering for it. My house is trashed, but brainstorming and plotting and writing and such are going swimmingly. I mosaic-ed a handmade cobra yesterday...just sayin'.

Sesame Street is over, and I really need to walk away from this screen long enough to engage my child, clean the kitchen and maybe start dinner in the crockpot. So... head on over to Keely's for more happy random! :)

Monday's Muse: Lucy March and Discovery Playlists

2010-03-07T22:27:00.000-06:00

I am a Lucy March blog junkie. Lucy March is really Lani Dianne Rich, and she is an author that runs Discovery and Revision workshops when she isn't writing her latest novel. I haven't taken either of her courses (yet), but have picked up a lot of good stuff just from "hanging out" with her and Jenny Crusie online. One of the things that they both suggest is making a playlist for the book you're working on. I'm deep into my Nano novel, Ouroboros, and have compiled all of the music and some of the images that I've collected for inspiration and offer it up here for anyone interested in a glimpse at what I've been working on. It's in 3 pieces-really 3 playlists, the first two in video form. Enjoy! :)

Love Thursday: I Love Mr. Rogers

2010-03-04T11:01:00.000-06:00

I grew up watching Mr. Rogers, Sesame Street and The Electric Company. I loved Mr. Rogers, especially, because he reminded me of my dad (thin and tall with a long, handsome face and dark hair parted on the side.) I could go on and on about all that I learned from PBS in general and Mr. Rogers specifically, but instead I'll just tell you this:

Once, about 4 years ago when I was having an awful day, I snapped on the television and started flipping through channels in an attempt to distract myself. About three channels in, I found myself eye to eye with Fred Rogers. His face took up the whole screen. He leaned forward, smiled at me and said, right. to. me. "I love you. Just the way you are." And I burst into tears. Because even when you're grown, sometimes you just really need to hear that. And for that alone I will always love him.

So, the next time that your world falls to hell, grab a blanket and a pillow and go curl up on the couch and watch Mr. Rogers. I guarantee you will feel better.

(A P.S. to any Mr. Rogers haters out there: I'd tell you just how much you suck and then beat you up, but Mr. Rogers raised me better than that.)

RTT-The Softer Side of Sears

2010-03-02T11:16:00.000-06:00

I changed my blog background to reflect how much I need Spring to get it's a** in gear. It's kinda like the gentle (often hidden) side of me, so every time I log on and see it I think, "The softer side of sears..." Turns out my softer side is weird, too.

My family has been saying a lot of funny crap, lately. For instance:

I was explaining to Walker how his Pulls-Up worked. After explaining that if he tinkled in his Diego Pull-Up, the little blue pictures would disappear, West (who was remarkably interested in the subject) piped up with, "It's like he does magic with his penis!" I laughed as his dad amended, "No, it's more that he does magic with his tinkle!" Then in an aside to me, "The magic with your penis comes later!"

I was unbuckling Walker from his carseat when out of the blue he piped up with, "I'm gonna eat you like a burger!"

Jesse put on clean socks and then promptly spilled a glass of water on his feet and said, "Dammit! I just put these on! Someone needs to invent waterproof socks!" and I said, "They have. It's called "skin", dumbass!"

I had a lot of other randomness stored up, but unfortunately I stored it in my head and it turns out that my head isn't the place to put something that I want to find again...so. I got nothin'.

For a random time call Keely@The Unmom (and then she'll redirect you to The Bitchin' Wives Club as she's taking the day off!

Cool Ticker!

2010-02-28T12:57:00.000-06:00

So here's the thing: I have been messing with my novel, trying to edit it, thinking that once I'd completed THAT, I would continue writing until I had 100,000-110,000 words. CreateSpace donated one free bound copy of each NanoWriMo winner's novel, but the text must be submitted and ordered by the end of May...so that's when I need to be finished. I've decided to just write until I've met my word count goal-much like in November, and then edit this monster (my literary baby.) Jennifer Crusie posted a cool link on her blog today. I've used it to make this ticker as I count down to 100,000. Jenny says that if we don't produce word count, people will throw rocks. Gotta go write!

"Haha, Mom! HA HA!"

2010-02-19T09:18:00.000-06:00

I was laying down beside my poor, sick middle kid to facilitate his napping. He snaked his little hand into mine and smiled a little with his eyes closed. I said, "I love you!" His voice drifted away into sleep as he replied, "I love...Bakugans!"

Conversations with Walker #2

2010-01-06T10:29:00.000-06:00

An exchange between my youngest and myself last week as I put both boys to bed:

Me: Seeing that West is hoarding ALL of the Ben 10 guys in his bed and correctly assuming that it's the cause of Walker's wailing in the crib behind me. "Buddy, what are you doing? Absolutely not! Half of those guys are Walky's from Santa..." I step forward and begin to "help" Westie sort action figures into two piles.

Walker: "West, you give me my fuckin' guys"

Me: Momentarily stunned, I don't turn around, telling myself that I definitely misunderstood that. I mean, we still have to ask him to repeat himself occasionally, his speech isn't always clear and there's NO WAY that my baby just said the f-word, right? Right!? "No, West. Gimme Jet Ray. That one's Walker's..."

Walker: Clear. As. Day. "WEST, I SAID, 'YOU GIVE ME MY FUCKIN' GUYS!!!'"

Me: Clapping hand to mouth to keep from laughing and walking to the doorway to see Jesse sitting in the living room, "Jesse! Did you hear what your son just said?!" I tell him, and even as he shakes with silent laughter it's not lost on me that I didn't have to spell out for him which son I'm talking about. "Oh God, and I can't even blame this on you, can I?!" He shakes his head no. "This is all me." I square my shoulders and put my mom-face back on. I walk back to the crib and use my sternest voice: "Walker Cash, you don't say that word, that's a grown-up word!"

Walker: All innocence and big blue eyes, "What word?"

Me: Oh. My. God. I'm going to have to say it. How do I say it without reinforcing it?! Jesus, take me now. "You don't say 'fucking'!"

Walker: "I didn't say 'fucking'."

My head explodes, The End.

Conversations with Walker #1

2010-01-03T17:41:00.001-06:00

During family Christmas goodbyes:

Auntie Natty: "Goodbye Walky! I'll see you soon for your birthday!"

Walky: "Yeah, I gonna have a FOUR-ARMS CAKE!"

Auntie Natty: (fairly sure that this is the first I've heard of it, laughing) "Really? Does Mama know that? Well, you tell that mom that she can call me if she needs help with that!"

Fast forward to the day of his 3rd birthday party:

Mama: "Okay, Walky! First we'll eat pizza and THEN we'll have your FOUR-ARMS CAKE!!!"

Walky: "Nooo! I want a ACCELERATE CAKE!"

Mama: "Forget it, kid. Not gonna happen. I already bought the frosting for four-arms!"

Wordless Wednesday: Christmas Kids

2009-12-29T21:23:00.000-06:00

RTT: Baby, Birthday, Backyardigans

2009-12-29T10:16:00.000-06:00

Today is my youngest's 3rd birthday and I'm remembering that labor with him was the fastest and the most brutal and realizing that the words "fast" and "brutal" pretty much sum him up. Is that weird?

I asked Jesse to re-explain blu-ray for the umpteenth time last night and he finally got through to me when he said, "They're like dvd's on steroids. But good steroids, not some crappy nutritional supplement from GNC." and I said, "Like the steroids that make penises small?" and he said, "Yeah." So now I understand: Blu-ray discs are dvd's with small penises.

My daughter's cat, Snowbelle, killed the Christmas tree. We've had the same fake tree since Winter was a baby and now her damn furball has knocked it over and snapped the base of it and so next year we'll have to replace it. On the bright side, none of the ornaments broke and the tree will be taken down and put (thrown) away before the 1st this year.

I began re-reading what I wrote for Nano in November, getting ready to finish the first draft in January and I HATE IT. So much stupid crap to fix, like describing what my gamer husband would call an NPC (non-player-character) as "graying at the temples" in one paragraph and then reading that he's a buff, civic-minded teen 2 minutes later. Suck.

Walky is enjoying his first present of the day: a Backyardigans Fairytale dvd and I have to say that the Backyardigans are awesome, if only because they expose kids to every musical genre imaginable.

I've been planning a review post of several products (and shows and books) that I've come across lately( like Dawn Direct Foam dish soap and the Syfy channel's Alice and Brita water pitchers.) Maybe I'll eventually get on that.

Wintertime in MN has gotten to me early this year: it's usually February before I start buying new houseplants in desperation to get me through the last hard month of cold here. I have truly run out of window space, now and so I hope that this winter will end as it began: short and mild.

I've been sitting here, with my middle kid sitting within the circle of my legs while I stared at the screen trying to decide whether or not I've got any more random to share and now he just got up and Katie just jumped up to take his place, turning once before curling into a circle and collapsing against me with a contented doggy sigh that sounded suspiciously like, "Finally!" I think that's my cue. I should go, now.

Use the purple button at the top of the page to visit Keely and other Random Tuesday posts.

Merry Christmas

2009-12-25T15:08:00.000-06:00

Westie's 6th Birthday, Belatedly

2009-12-22T11:14:00.000-06:00

I can't believe that my baby boy is 6! He'd been pestering us to go to his favorite "restaurant" Old Country Buffet for weeks (his favorite because he is possibly the pickiest child on the planet, and at OCB he can eat pizza and fries to his heart's content *sigh*) and so for two weeks after picking him up from school I had to chant, "On your birthday, on your birthday" all the way home. The night before his birthday I snuck into his room and turned it into a maze of crepe-paper streamers and balloons. I started doing that when Winter was little and now the kids know that their birthday celebrations start the moment that they open their eyes. Westie wanted pancakes for his birthday breakfast, and so we all ate pancakes and watched him open a present at the breakfast table: the book I Spy A Dinosaur's Eye. He was thrilled that it was something that he could take to school in his backpack. Books are allowed, toys are not! He brought a big bag of treats for his schoolmates to ease the pain of having to spend his birthday at school-lol!

When he got home, he opened the two small presents from his siblings: a red Bakugan from Walker and a small shiny purple snake filled with sand instead of stuffing that his sister picked out and bought herself. She told him that it was just like his favorite stuffie (a huge, purple, stuffed snake) and that the new toy could be it's baby. He said, "No, it's the little brother!" I thought that was fitting.

At 5:15 we all clambered into the van to pick Daddy up from work. We headed to OCB equipped with a bag full of presents and a candle and lighter for whatever dessert he chose. We ate dinner and watched West's smile and the way that his hat hair fell across his forehead as he talked, animatedly using his hands for emphasis. We said our bests and worsts. Winter didn't have any worst, telling us that it was a triple-good day because it was West's birthday and she got to swim in gym class and the new Harry Potter film came out on DVD. West's best: "It's my birthday!" His worst: "I had to go to school on my birthday." Winter offered to take West for his dessert. He came back with a swirly ice cream cone, falling from it's cone onto his hand. I thought, "Seriously? There are a dozen perfectly good cupcakes over there that would hold this damn candle! Oh well..." I stuck the number 6 candle into the top of the cone and tried to light it. I burned myself. I yipped and shook my hand, making everyone laugh. I tried twice more (and burned myself twice more!) I finally got it lit and West blew it out immediately and laughed his head off, proud of his joke. I shook my head and said, "Forget it! Sing!"

We sang "Happy Birthday" and let him tear into the rest of his presents: a Play-Doh Burger Builder, Splashy the Whale, a small animatronic triceratops and another book, this one about Transformers. We carried the loot home and I let him stay up later than usual so that he could play play-doh with his brother and cheat at his new game (he doesn't like being sprayed with water and so turns the whale to face Walker during his turn-lol!) before tucking a very tired birthday boy into bed! Here are a few highlights!

Tomorrow: Westie's Birthday party with friends and family on the 12th!

Happy St. Nick's!

2009-12-06T14:56:00.000-06:00

In our family (well, my family on my mother's side) we've always celebrated today as the Feast of Saint Nick. In honor of the predecessor to Santa Claus, our children put out their stockings on the night of the 5th, and dig their goodies out of them on the 6th. Some, more religious families, take this day to honor the saint through prayer and teaching, but for us it's always been a day of fun, a beloved family tradition and an excuse to parade new Christmas themed pencils, socks and hair-ties before our non-St. Nick-celebrating schoolmates. Getting to eat chocolate for breakfast was pretty great, too. The 6th marks the true beginning of our family's holiday season. This year, the Feast of St. Nicholas falls on a weekend, which leaves the whole day for my kids and their cousins to happily lug their loot around (instead of having to wistfully set them aside in order to don boots and backpacks.) I am thoroughly enjoying their enjoyment and remembering my mom and all of the little ways that she made me feel special. Today I wish for everyone, regardless of their faith or creed, love and joy and the evidence of abundant generosity in their lives. Happy Holidays!

Love Thursday: Hairspray

2009-11-19T11:02:00.000-06:00

The movie 'Hairspray' was one of the last gifts that I gave my mother. I picked it up for her on a whim, fairly sure that she hadn't seen it yet. She hadn't and we watched it that first night together...twice. In the following months, she watched it dozens of times. Looking back, I should've been concerned (because in the months before my Nana succumbed utterly to Alzheimer's, she watched Grease religiously every night.) I was just happy that she loved the musical as much as I did. As of today, it's been three months since Mama died, so this post is for her. I love you, Ma.

2009-11-18T22:58:00.001-06:00

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Quotable Sunday: Note to Self

2009-11-15T22:50:00.000-06:00

Procrastination is opportunity's assassin. ~Victor Kiam

Love/Hate

2009-11-15T01:53:00.000-06:00

I loved spending time with one of my dearest friends, Mary. We met at Starbucks after not seeing one another for a year (which is ridiculous, since we live within fifteen minutes from one another) and I was reminded again of how much I truly enjoy her company. I hope that everyone has their own "Mary". (I love you, Mary!)

I hate that I've been feeling blue the past few days. It's affecting everything in my life that requires effort on my part, which, come to think of it, is everything. Dammit. Here's hoping for a better tomorrow!

Friday Fill-In #150

2009-11-13T23:28:00.000-06:00

1. The last band I saw live was at a Jason Mraz concert.
2. What I look forward to most on Thanksgiving is spending time with my sisters. (If you don't celebrate Thanksgiving, insert your favorite holiday)
3. My Christmas/holiday shopping is starting to take shape in the form of copious lists.
4. Thoughts of chocolate fill my head.
5. I wish I could wear elaborate sequined gowns, ropes of rhinestones and a black feather boa everywhere. Oh! and maybe a tiara!
6. Bagpipes + Mike Meyers=Hilarious in So I Married An Axe Murderer.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to writing, tomorrow my plans include writing and Sunday, I want to get ahead on my NaNo word count...by writing!

Love Thursday: Walker Loves Play-doh

2009-11-12T23:06:00.000-06:00

Wordless Wednesday: Halloween Moon

2009-11-11T23:30:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was my 100th Post!

2009-11-11T01:00:00.000-06:00

So today I am posting 101 words from my Nano novel, Ouroboros:

"Well, if you’re just going to leave her lying here…" He trailed off, his eyes and teeth gleaming despite the low lighting that the cheap landlord had installed. Ava hated him when he was like this. She should’ve known, should’ve never forgotten who and what he truly was, but she always did. What did you expect? His theme song is “Lie to Me“, for Chrissakes. She tried to stare him down, but he only smiled, smug with the knowledge that he was going to win either way. Gotcha. She’d never understood the perverse pleasure that he got from forcing her hand...

Monday's Muse: Shangrila's Step-by-step Guide to Forcing NaNoWriMo Word Count

2009-11-09T13:23:00.000-06:00

1. When your husband comes upstairs to tell you that your washing machine is dead, Jim, do not pass go, do not collect $100, go straight to bed and pull the covers over your head. Say, "Fuck this!" Go to sleep.

2. The next day, try to keep both the kids in the van and the characters of your novel (all of which are vying for your attention loudly) at a dull roar so that you can drive without running the lot of you into a telephone pole.

3. Play Judy Garland. Cry over your dead mother.

4. Get down on your knees. Thank Jesus for Sesame Street. Use it to hypnotize child #3. Use this time to make several calls that will hopefully ensure continued financial stability.

5. Make like Agatha Christie, who said that "The best time to plan a book is while you're doing the dishes." Clean your kitchen.

6. Put baby down for a nap. Check all of your internet haunts. See that Facebook has prompted you to send a message to your mother. Write a message to your mother. Cry again.

7. Open your word document and underscore a line beneath the crap that you wrote yesterday. Close your eyes and try to remember what your new character was telling you this morning in the van. Don't argue when he tells you that he dresses like eurotrash and carries a back pack which sports a button that says, "Go Green!"

8. WRITE.

Quotable Sunday: On Writing for NaNoWriMo

2009-11-08T00:46:00.000-06:00

The story I am writing exists, written in absolutely perfect fashion, some place, in the air. All I must do is find it, and copy it. ~Jules Renard, "Diary," February 1895

Write down the thoughts of the moment. Those that come unsought for are commonly the most valuable. ~Francis Bacon

A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. ~Baltasar Gracián

Writing became such a process of discovery that I couldn't wait to get to work in the morning: I wanted to know what I was going to say. ~Sharon O'Brien

The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say. ~Anaïs Nin

The coroner will find ink in my veins and blood on my typewriter keys. ~C. Astrid
Weber

Love/Hate

2009-11-07T23:48:00.000-06:00

I love having my sister Lisa over. This last visit, I ~~forced her~~ helped her to set up her NaNoWriMo account and in addition to having her daughter occupy my sons in play and the joy of kissing her plump little baby boy all over his sweet little face, it was wonderful just to hammer out word count companionably beside her.

I hate unpacking the boxes of things that I kept from my mother's apartment. I did three of them today and every single thing in each of those boxes hurt my heart as I put it away. My eyes still stung hours after I'd finished and moved on to other things, grief following me around like a raincloud. I know that someday I'll be able to tell someone, "Oh, that was my mother's" in an offhand, matter-of-fact way-I just don't know how I'll ever get there.

(Post script~I got the love/hate prompt for this post from Ginny Marie. Thanks, Ginny!)

Friday Fill-In #149

2009-11-06T21:12:00.001-06:00

1. Plans and schedules and to-do lists, oh my!

2. I'm happy when things are in order.

3. The last thing I drank was Diet Pepsi from a red plastic 160z disposable cup.

4. One of the most valuable things in my life is tradition, a link between myself and those that came before me.

5. I like artichokes on my pizza.

6. Dear November, thank you for the beautiful weather today. Would you mind keeping it warm and sunny out until I've finished fall clean-up in the backyard? Also, what do you say we leave the leaf-raking for April or May to worry about?

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to watching movies with the W's and getting into bed at a halfway decent hour since I reached my NaNoWriMo word quota early today, tomorrow my plans include scrubbing the kitchen floor and writing, writing, writing and Sunday, I want to reorganize the kids' room, unpack some of the boxes from mom's, wash and lay out the kids' clothes for the school week, and remember to take out the garbage. Also, write-write-writey-write-write!"

Love Thursday: Sentimental Drivel

2009-11-05T11:03:00.000-06:00

I love taking the long way home from my husband's place of work. Instead of taking the straight shot up the main road, which takes exactly 7 minutes, I take the back road every chance I get. It is wind-y and unnecessarily long and I've developed an emotional attachment to the landscaping in several of the yards. Driving past feels something like visiting old friends-indulgent and comforting. It takes at least ten minutes, fifteen if I linger.

I love listening to Walker Cash's increasing ability to express his deep, inner thoughts. I love the way he often voices G in the place of D. ("Spigerman!") and overhearing him trying to convince Sissy to take him to school, adopting his older brother's life experiences to sway her, "I can go with you! I go-ed to kindergarten! I losed my teeth!" I love listening to him singing in the back seat: "5! Little monkeys! Jumpinonnabed! One felled off an bumped him head!" I love him.

I love that in forcing me to learn how to face paint and make balloon animals in my early teens, my mom gave me the skills to do something special for my middle kid, making him feel lucky and special even though the line at the Halloween party last week for balloon sculptures was too damned long. But, Mom? For the record? Clowning is still sucky and dumb. Pirate sword balloon anyone?

I love how independent Winter has gotten. Something has clicked for her and now she's laying out her clothes without being told, finding and turning in missing assignments without a word from me, setting her own alarm and getting herself out the door on time for the bus. I love that even now, now that the first revelation of parenting ("OMG, I can't believe how much I love her more every day!") is a distant memory, she still amazes me and inspires me and claims more of my heart. Every day. <3

Wordless Wednesday: Upon Investigating a Suspicious Silence

2009-11-03T23:36:00.001-06:00

RTT: Could The Coast Guard PLEASE Locate My Cell Phone Charger?

2009-11-02T21:58:00.000-06:00

I was going to write "Angela Noll Mohn refrained from eating any Halloween candy, only to find that when her resolve finally crumbled, there was no chocolate left to pilfer" as my Facebook status. I decided that it was too long for Facebook, and so am posting it here. I was also planning on trying to work the word "tragically" in there. Hey, gum! The baby can't even have gum, so I'm kinda doing him a favor by eating it, right?!

I can not find the charger for my cellphone and so I am adrift in a sea of contactlessness. Which is different than tactlessness. Although I suppose I'll care increasingly less and less about tactlessness the more contactlessness I have.

Truly, my cell charger is GONE. I hate to beat a dead horse (well, unless it was a truly bad dead horse, in which case I wouldn't mind beating on it just a little, just to encourage it to stay dead..) but I only charge my phone at like, two different outlets in my house and after checking both outlets repeatedly (or as a dear ex-boyfriend used to say, "repeatively") I must conclude that my charger is not in this house, not with a mouse, not on a train, not in the rain, I can not find it, Sam, you see...

My husband went to the store and forgot the Draino that we needed for our kitchen sink, but he remembered the paper towels. So at least we can clean up if the sink overflows.

My knee hurts.

Squirrels are rat bastards.

I haven't watched The Food Network for two days. I haven't watched ANYTHING for two days. Well, except for my children, of course. (And) a blinking cursor.

My house looks as though President Obama could conceivably deem it a national natural disaster. Dear President Obama, please send the coast guard.

Was I always this crazy? Or has NaNoWriMo finally sent me over the edge? I am exhausted, and I can't think why, as the characters in the story seem to be doing all the work.

Aren't "Fruity Cheerios" basically just "Fruit Loops?" Which reminds me to remind you: head on over to Super Keely's, Queen of Tuesday Loopiness. (Or was that "fruitiness?") :p

Monday's Muse: Writing and Blogging and Harvesting, Oh My!

2009-11-02T00:49:00.000-06:00

I am currently 2000+ words into the novel that I am attempting to write for NaNoWriMo. I came across/was reminded of NaBloPoMo while procrastinating when it came to sitting my butt down and writing words, any words onto my blank word document. It's so much easier to make a collage, and search for images and research key concepts online than it is to actually WRITE, isn't it?!

Then, as if this weren't enough, my husband came outside while the kids and I were taking out the garbage and offered to dig up my dahlia tubers for me. In all honesty, I'd considering leaving them and letting them all die, just another casualty of the "I just don't give a fuck" attitude that I've been living under since my mother died. Then up came the first spadeful of dirt and there they were, inciting me, however grudgingly, to act. I've been trying to stop time, wanting to scream at my husband when he got on my case for things like pretty much refusing to water my houseplants, "Don't you see? Don't you see?! I can't bear for everything to go on as if nothing has happened!" I'm fairly sure that I would've regretted the loss of those tubers come March. Creating has always been about channeling or appeasing my "dark side" and so here I am at 1:09am waiting for tubers to dry so that I can store them for the coming year. Today my muse? More of a sneaky mistress, forcing my hand, (and) I'm not sure whether I feel grateful or hateful.

Happy Belated Halloween!

2009-10-30T21:56:00.000-05:00

Here is a cute project that we did for All Hallow's Eve:

My sister did a cute craft with my niece after seeing it in a magazine before passing the idea on to me during a phone conversation yesterday. I remembered to take pictures so that I could tell you all how it's done!

Supplies:
tacks
cardboard (I used empty cereal boxes)
adhesive felt or foam in multiple colors
Sharpie markers (optional)

Step One: Cut out jack-o'-lantern face shapes from cardboard.

Step Two: Put a thumb tack through each piece. I used two tacks for each mouth.

Step Three: Cover one side of the cardboard (the side with the head of the tack showing) with adhesive-backed felt or foam. Decorate pieces further using Sharpies and additional pieces of felt or foam.

Step Four: Throw the eyes, noses and mouths into a small box or tray and let the kids decorate their Mr./Mrs. Pumpkin Head to heart's content. The tacks only make teeny-tiny holes in the pumpkins, leaving your options open as you can paint or carve the pumpkins later if you wish. This is a great way to include toddlers in the making of jack-o'-lanterns (I showed my 2 1/2 year old the pieces and pointed to the tacks, explaining that they were sharp, and he did just fine.)

Ultimately, the project only took me an hour and a half, costing me nothing as I already happened to have all of the supplies on hand-does it get better than that?! The kids are looking forward to painting their pumpkins tonight, and apart from a few pumpkin-juice spots, I'm thinking that I'll be able to store these until next Halloween, when I can add to the collection. I'd love to write a longer post, but I've entered NaNoWriMo and my dog just ran by with a packet of Skittles (her favorite!) <3

Cute Mohn Babies at Zoo Boo!

2009-10-26T10:58:00.000-05:00

Last night, Jesse and I took the kids to Como Zoo's Zoo Boo. We had a great time. We spent too much on nuclear hot chocolate. We brought a camera.

For My Husband

2009-10-02T09:54:00.000-05:00

Memory

2009-09-28T01:05:00.001-05:00

I will never again see the bees on my dahlias without thinking of my mother. Jesse told me that she was gone and after I wailed and screamed, “You’re lying!” and “That’s not true!” and cried harder than I knew I could, I pulled myself together and went down to the dahlia jungle to calm myself before telling my children. The bees were swarming-an orgy of bees danced across each bloom and I stared in disbelief, sure that the world she‘d left behind shouldn‘t still hold such beautiful things. Lighting my cigarette, I inhaled poison and exhaled hatred like a dragon and tried my damnedest to self-destruct.

The next day, Natalie and I went to Mom’s apartment to pick up her cats. I stopped at the Holiday station on the corner for a soda and more cigarettes. I wandered to the refrigerated cases at the back, feeling like I was walking through water, looking at everything around me without really seeing any of it until I began to scan the beverages. My eye landed on bottles of Fuse, labeled “Slenderize” and “Replenish” and I wondered dully why they didn’t have one called “Grieve”.

I will miss her eyes, and her pierced ears, and the beauty mark under her left eyebrow. I will miss the way she smelled, and how it felt when we kissed one another hello and goodbye. I will miss her arms around me and what it felt like to climb into bed with her. I will miss her laugh and her smile and the way she used to twist her mouth to be funny. I will miss laying my head against her breast while she stroked my hair or held my face in her hands and kissed me over and over. I will miss her fingernails and her toenails and her heels and her elbows. I will miss how she called, “Ange!” and how she’d tell the kids, “Come to The Nani!” I miss the world that had my mother in it, the security in that, the every-day-ness of that. I don’t want to forget.

I want to remember that she was more than all of the good things, too. She was demanding and manipulative, jealous. She could hold a grudge like she’d invented them. What I loved is that when you combined the good with the bad, (her cleverness, her sense of humor, her kindness, generosity and love for her family, her talent, her sense of style, her organizational skills, her complete and total mastery of the English language) she was the kind of fascinating, complicated, beautiful woman that inspires songs and tortured poetry.

Now every song on the radio is about her. A moth lands on my arm and I wonder if it’s a sign from Mom, letting me know that she’s not afraid of them anymore. Or maybe it’s the sun breaking through the clouds or the stranger who held me and prayed when I broke down crying in Target’s parking lot. I am looking for her everywhere.

Love Thursday: I'm Not Loving It

2009-09-24T13:57:00.000-05:00

Female Atlas by Ozz Boyd

I have a problem. Well, problems. I need to: find and sort all of our paperwork. Make roughly one billion phone calls. Do the laundry. Finish swapping the kids' room with the art room. Clean my whole house. Make 40,000 trips to donate 40,000 items to Goodwill. Scrub 1,000 miles of tile. Shampoo the carpets. Paint the bathroom. Find a new job. Clean out the van. Mow the lawn. Divide the lilies. Wash the walls. (And) that's just the short list.

My problem? I don't want to do any of it. I don't. (And) I'm not. All I want to do is curl up in a ball on my bed and take a nap. No, it isn't depression. It may be grief. It may be exhaustion. All I know is that I have three hours every day now while my youngest takes a nap to tackle that list and instead I'm...sleeping. Tucking the baby in and then crawling into my own bed with Katie, wrapping myself in my blanket and shutting out the world.

Mohn Babies-First Day of School 2009

2009-09-10T18:24:00.000-05:00

In Memoriam

2009-08-23T21:17:00.000-05:00

My Beautiful Mother

Patricia Cecilia Noll

April 19th, 1956-August 19th 2009

I love you so much, Momsknees.

Why I'm Not Posting

2009-07-31T10:57:00.000-05:00

Angela wanted to mention that she hasn't been posting because she's going to a

Wedding in Washinton (say that ten times fast) ,so frantically preparing to go

Out of town to see her best friend from highschool get married (and have alone time with Jesse at a very nice B&B on the water.)

Lots to do, "see" you soon! ~Shangrila <3

Sweet Jebus and Other Deities

2009-07-22T13:30:00.000-05:00

Is it really taking a name in vain to exclaim, disbelieving, in response to a difficult situation? Don't answer that. I already know.

Truly, when I say, "Christ on a crutch!" I am asking for help just as surely as I cried for my mother during childbirth. Today the kids and I painted, finally dragging out the easel and paintbox after a week of artistic sloth and my living room may never be the same again. Yes, I did sit down right at the top of the stairs with the toddler to paint while his siblings chose their colors and spread out across the room. But Walky has red paint in his hair and down his cheek, and after I took his diaper off (don't ask) he somehow SAT in the paint (think "butt-rainbow") after which of course he stepped in green paint. He picked up his empty red cup and I could see the wheels turning in his head as he looked down at his penis, then back at the cup. Yep, cup on the penis! Wow. Two points for making the toss to the sink.

Then he stepped on his sister's artwork.

Then his sister slid the box of baby-wipes onto her paint palette. Then she slid the box across my carpet. Blue carpet. That's hot.

Walker now has his finger buried to the hilt in his nose. Dear Jesus, Zeus, Allah, Mother, ANYONE...send me patience, and please ignore all the swearing.

RTT: Tuesday Titles

2009-07-21T10:58:00.000-05:00

Wildlife Encounters

Last week, as I left my house at 2:30am to get to my sister before she gave birth, I was shocked to see a huge deer standing just a few feet away on my lawn. By the time my brain registered "deer" it was gone in a flash of tail over my hedge, it's hooves clattering down the road. I was crazy vigilant as I drove to the freeway, thinking, "Where the hell do deer live in Brooklyn Park?!"

A few days later, during an early morning potty-run with Katie, I noticed a baby robin in the long grass beside my garden. I tried to shoo it away, as Dom loves hunting, but the poor little thing just tried to run deeper into the grass (and failed.) Thinking he'd run like hell, I reached over and picked him up. He was fine until I lifted him up-then he screamed, "PEEP-PEEP-PEEP-PEEP! I carefully placed him as high as I could on the branch of a tree and then watched his brothers and sisters practice attempts at hang-gliding awhile before going inside.

I'm Totally Screwed

This morning Walker climbed into my bed already covered in black marker. I gently reminded him that coloring on anything but paper is naughty. "Why?" "Because it makes mama and daddy feel sad and angry when you color on our things." "Why?" Well, crap.

My daughter just informed me that the baby told her, "Shut up, Stupidhead!" WTF?! Not okay!

My Head is an Empty Room

I'm having difficulty thinking randomly. I can't tell if I'm feeling peaceful or completely refusing to deal with reality. I keep trying to concentrate and am rewarded with white noise. Not good, Bob, not good!

My Children Could Nag the Leg Off a Mule

I am being worn down by the constant, "Mom?! Mom, can I play Neopets? Mama? Hey, mom, I really wanna play Neopets. When can I play Neopets? Hunh, Mama? Hunh?! Mama!" that my son is dishing out. I give.

While I'm eating Butter Pecan ice cream for lunch, visit Keely. Or I'll send Westie to pester you until you do.

Spin Cycle: Day In The Life

2009-07-17T16:17:00.000-05:00

I'd like to say that I'm the kind of mom, nay, the kind of woman, that runs her life in a smooth and regimented way. Sadly, this just isn't so. I blame it on the hippie artists I fell in with. :p

On a typical day:

I wake up when a) my husband crawls over me to get up or b) my boys climb into bed with me, lugging an army of Pokemon guys. If I was clever enough to bring a diaper and wipes into my room the night before (usually not a problem) I change Walker and play with the boys until a) my bladder screams at me or b) Katie's bladder makes her bark and do the potty dance. Sissy lolls around in bed reading until I call her to please take Katie outside. I head to the bathroom, fending off little boys (with help from a locked door) long enough to change, wash up, shove my hair on top of my head, etc. Somewhere during all of this, West will holler, "Mama?! Can we have fruit snacks?!" and I'll holler back, "Only if you get some for your brother and eat them at the table!" Peace reigns for 3.7 minutes.

I get upstairs in time for my husbands first call of the day. This is only the first of many calls that I will receive from my beloved over the course of the day. He'll say, "Just making sure you were up!" I'll say, "Yep, I'm up." We'll make small-talk for a few minutes, he'll give up and get back to work. I'll make the kids breakfast-usually French toast or waffles, fruit and milk. (My kids'll only eat one kind of cereal: Peanut Butter Spheres. They can't market them as peanut butter balls, because then they'd sound like Chef on South Park.) On a good day, I'll grab a protein drink or Bolthouse Chai but really, it's too damn early for me to eat. I feed the cats and Katie their canned food and tell West to drink his milk.

Most days, we snap on PBS (oh thank you, Jesus, for PBS!) in time for Sesame Street and maybe even Dragon Tales. I pull up the internet on my laptop and read or post blogs. This is it, peoples. That's all the time I can promise you, although I may stop back around the time that I should be sleeping. During this time, I'll field another call or two from my husband ("I just wanted to hear your voice." "I'm on break." "How's your day going?") and several whiny, "Mama?! Can I play my DS?"es. I will misspell tomorrow (tomarrow) and drive myself crazy.

At this point I normally take Katydid out again and putz in the yard while she does her business. I pull weeds and corral toys and love on my plants:

At 12ish, I slap lunch together (typically pb sandwiches and a veggie-a Lean Pocket for me) before changing the baby, hunting down a Nukie and putting him down for a nap. He'll generally start with, "No! No nigh-nigh time!" and end with gratefully snuggling into his pillow. I kick the kids outside, or let them do some kind of art or play DS or a computer game. Jesse comes home for lunch and I generally touch base with my mom and sisters in a flurry of phonecalls.

When Walker wakes up, we could do most anything: Head to my mom's, where the kids take turns pushing the buttons for the elevator, or run errands:

or play at the park:

or hang out with friends:

At the end of the day, Jesse and I take turns making dinner and taking care of bedtime The boys go to bed first most nights, as Sissy is allowed to stay up "late" every other night. I lay in Westie's bed and read stories and the kids take turns picking songs for me to sing, usually "Over in the Meadow" and Grover's "Wubba Wubba" song. Then we say the same prayer we've said since Sissy was born: "Thank you, God, for this day. Bless me, and everyone who loved and took care of me today. Amen."

I make the sign of the cross on each child's forehead and say, "You are my beloved. On you my favor rests." I walk to the door and say "Good night, sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite. If they do, whack 'em with a shoe, then they'll cry, 'Boo-hoo!' Mama loves you." I shut the door.

For the rest of the night, I clean, watch Gilmore Girls with Winter or a movie with Jes', shower, some nights blog or water my plants until well after the sun has gone down. Typing this out, I'm reminded that I've got a pretty damn good life. Routinely, even.

For more posts about routines, head to The Spin Cycle!

(P.S. If anyone knows how to make my pictures fit on this @#*!ing blog without changing my layout or cutting and pasting from the top of the blog where the "add a picture" blog feature keeps loading the damn things, for the love of God, tell me!)

I'm An Auntie Again!

2009-07-14T12:40:00.001-05:00

My youngest sister just gave birth to her second child (let's call him "Nugget") and we are all thrilled! He was born 7/13/09 at 4:25am, 7 lb 4.4oz and 19.5". Welcome to the world, baby! We love you!

The Rambunctious Penii

2009-07-08T00:48:00.000-05:00

First of all, this isn't as exciting as it sounds.

I refrained from writing about it because, well, because I generally only rant about this kind of stuff to my mother.

But then, Mrs. Jelly Belly asked and I thought, "Well, why the hell not?!"

My youngest son, Walker Cash, has a talent that I'd never heard of before he joined our family. He can, at any time, pee out of his diaper. Now mind you, after MULTIPLE instances of him standing up in his crib and peeing all over his bedding, or walking upstairs and accidentally peeing on his little feet I check his diapers for gaps EVERY TIME I DIAPER HIM. So what gives? Well, I'll tell you...

His little peenee* somehow sneaks out of the leg hole of his Pampers and lays there against his leg, open to the cool refreshing breeze and more than willing to christen anything lower than his groin with tinkle. It's infuriating and adorable all at the same time. My son is darling (if I do say so myself) with red-gold curls and big grey eyes and a rosy pout. Add a cute wayward penis, his signature glower and arms held out for help and he's absolutely irresistible. Unless you haven't had enough children to be immune to urine.

Despite that, some days I just do not want that extra load of laundry, to negotiate the extra bath, to re-mop that part of the floor...you get my drift. (And) then I wail and gnash my teeth to my mother, crying variations of, "What the hell?! Why me?!" She told me that he must have a rambunctious peenee. I don't know why I made up a plural form. Probably pee poisoning.

* I have always referred to body parts by their "real" names. I have no idea why I always think, "Peenee" when Walk's privates go public. Maybe I just think "Teeny" and "Penis" all at once. He's not going to appreciate this post when he's grown, is he?! Yeah, well...payback's a bitch! LOL :p

Random Tuesday Thoughts: "What?! I have to put clothes on?"

2009-07-07T10:50:00.000-05:00

I've had lots of great ideas for blog posts: The Rambunctious Penii, Reckless Cat Abandonment and 1,000 Ways to Avoid Doing Something Useful. Clearly, I chose not to write about them.

I just told my sister how to pilfer a resume' format.

It's 11:58am and I still haven't combed my hair or gotten dressed. How bad would it be to go outside to set up the sprinkler in my nightgown?

I think that my cellphone has fallen into my recliner (because my chair is vibrating. But not like good vibrating.)

My sister just told me that she paid $90.00 to have the rug in her very small LR cleaned. She is freaking high.

People keep fucking calling me. Leave me alone, peoples! Okay, not really. Could we work out some kind of call schedule, though? Because I'm not getting a damn thing done...

except laundry. I've been doing laundry for three days and I'm STILL not done. Stupid laundry.

My lilies are blooming, I cut a huge rose from one of our bushes last night and my dahlias are budding, but taking their damn sweet time about it. My back lawn is attempting to go native and looks like a meadow just now.

I have to go 52-pick-up the house, put on a bra and take my babies outside. Head on over to Miss Keely's for more RTT. :)

Spin Cycle: That One Time...

2009-06-19T09:38:00.000-05:00

When I was 17 or 18 years old, my mother asked me to drive my two younger sisters to our grandparents' house in Milwaukee, WI. Mind you, we'd made the 5-7 hour trip hundreds of times as a family, and I think that by that point I may have already made the trip once myself. Mom would be joining us on vacation one week later. No problem, right? Yeah, right!

Almost immediately, the situation Did Not Bode Well. As we drove out of Minneapolis on 94, the heavens opened in a rainstorm of epic proportions. Sheets of rain blinded drivers, and traffic all but stopped for an hour. Somewhere in that hour, our windshield wipers must have gotten tired, because they decided to take a siesta for the rest of the trip. I will never forget the chaos of my sister Lisa, crying and clutching our barking black lab mix ,Brutus, in the back seat or Natalie's long hair streaming with rain as she hung her head out the window, guiding me as I inched the car forward. We would've quit then if we'd been able to turn around, but we couldn't and when the rain stopped we thought our troubles were over and continued on, looking forward to seeing our Nana and Grandpa.

It didn't take long to determine that something was definitely wrong with my car...I called it my Chevy 'Ebrity (the "C-E-L" had fallen off sometime in the distant past). The lights, the radio (and of course the windshield wipers) worked intermittently, if at all. In Eau Claire, we stopped at a gas station to call my dad for advice. He said that it was probably the alternator, and that since we were already at the halfway mark we should continue on to Milwaukee. He gave me two instructions:

1) Whatever you do, don't turn the car off because it probably won't start again, and
2) Do not run more than one electrical thing at once. Since the sun was going down, that pretty much meant nothing but the headlights, and we were mad that we couldn't listen to the radio.

The whole "leave the car on" also concerned us because we had to fill the gas tank. I made the girls take the dog away from the car to stand on the grass just off of the gas station's property. Oh, the copious tears and pleading! They were sure that I was going to explode, and I wasn't too sure that they were wrong. Drama Queen that I am, I bravely told them that I was the big sister, and if anyone was getting blown up, it would be me because I was in charge. Needless to say, no-one blew up and ,despite our disappointment, we managed to press on.

All went fairly well until we discovered that our exit (you know, the only one we'd ever taken, the one that our mother WROTE DOWN FOR US) was closed due to construction. This was before cell phones, I suck at reading maps, and my alternate map-readers were 11 and 14 respectively ( and Brutus wasn't much help, either.) We got horribly, terribly, awfully lost. Driving around in circles until we're almost out of gas and all of the gas-stations are closed and we're on the Wrong Side of Town and we're too scared to ask the pimp and the hookers on the street-corners for directions lost! Driving the wrong way on a one way lost! Oh my God we're going to die and it's all my fault lost.

Just when we were about to give up and write our last will and testaments on the backs of gum wrappers, I saw a police cruiser pulled over on the freeway. The police officer was writing out his paperwork for the night with his interior lights on, and I can't imagine what he thought when I parked in front of him and came flying at his window tear-streaked and babbling. I gave him my Nana and Grandpa's address and he began to calmly give me directions. My face must have blanked, because he paused, smiled and said, "You know what? Why don't I lead you there?" I nodded like an idiot bobble head and that good, good man drove us right to Downer Ave, where we belonged. It was past midnight, but my Grandpa was sitting out on the front steps waiting for us. He hugged us hard and I think my sisters may have actually kissed the driveway. Our car had made it just barely there, dying as I pulled in, never to run again.

I remember that my sisters and I crowded into one bed that night and prayed for that good cop before succumbing to the cool sheets and soft pillows. To us, we had survived an adventure filled with drama and danger and emerged if not victorious, blissfully intact.

I have no idea why this is one of my favorite memories. Maybe because I can see my sisters stamped so clearly in my mind's eye, or because it comforts me to remember that kind police officer and how safe I felt in my grandfather's arms and under my Nana's clean, bright sheets. Good times, good times...

Love Thursday: One Love

2009-06-18T10:10:00.001-05:00

Take away love and our earth is a tomb. ~Robert Browning

Love me and the world is mine. ~David Reed

Come live in my heart and pay no rent. ~Samuel Lover

A Pity Party

2009-06-17T11:24:00.000-05:00

Tried to write haiku
But words wouldn't get in line
Can't write what's in my heart
Have neither patience nor the time

Want to give up
Want to curl up
Want to turn my head away
Cannot shake dissatisfaction
that is standing in my way

Something not quite right here
I do not know what ails me
Try to listen to my inner self
but that bitch too often fails me

RTT: Pet-Fresh Pokemon Wear Pampers

2009-06-16T00:45:00.000-05:00

I used some "pet-fresh" powder on my carpet and now the dirt-holder-capsule-thingy on my vacuum looks a lot like a huge sand-art bottle.

I can name like fifty Pokemon off the top of my head.

I have had three baskets of white socks sitting on the side table in my living room for at least three weeks. I still don't want to match them.

We've been buying Huggies diapers instead of Pampers the past few months because they've been on sale, but I like Pampers better and I think that we use more of the Huggies because they get lumpy 5 minutes in and so I'm always sure Walker's wet...and then he often is a teeny bit wet and so I change him and so I wish there was some sort of mathematical formula that I could use to ~~justify buying Pampers~~ determine whether or not we're actually saving money. Someone that didn't major in Theater should work on that.

The yearly ant invasion is well underway, and I am losing the battle and the war, as usual. I found them crawling all over my hoyas yesterday and completely freaked out. Kinda makes you wish you'd been there, hunh?

I'm going to fix my lawnmower today. I don't actually know how, but I found a good article on eHow and know roughly where the lawnmower parts are at Menard's. How hard could it be?

I love you guys, but I'm going to go eat some orange sherbet now. I'd say it's because it's so hot here in MN, but it's really not...I just like sherbet. Scroll down and click the purple button on your left to visit Keely at The Unmom. She probably doesn't have any sherbet, but you'll like it there, anyways.

Wordless Wednesday: Backyard Spring 2009

2009-06-03T09:29:00.001-05:00

RTT: Gay Men and Gilmore Girls

2009-06-02T09:16:00.000-05:00

My birthday was last Friday, and my gift to myself was giving up cigarettes and caffeine for good. Why the hell couldn't I have picked up some flowers and chocolate and called it a day?! I didn't even get me a card. Cheapskate.

I am so, so grateful to the mastermind that decided to give out stories on cd in the kid's meals at Wendy's. Sometime last year they gave out Magic Treehouse cd's, right now it's Wordgirl. We don't go often, but if they swapped cd's for toys that I throw out almost immediately, I would...go. Oftener.

I stayed up until 2am watching stuff on YouTube. Anyone else remember this?

Also, I'd never seen Adam Lambert, but looked him up as well after hearing about him on the radio:

OMFG, people! God isn't punishing gay men, he's punishing ME by making them off limits! Talent is HOT.

So pretty out today here in MN-hovering right around 70 degrees. I'm having plant issues which reminds me, bunnies aren't cute! I have a gardening book that advises, "make sure that your neighbor isn't feeding the creatures while you're trying to get rid of them" and ~~that bitch~~ she is! She actually said, "I stopped your cat! He was trying to catch the bunnies!" Um, good?! I don't wanna hear that we've taken their habitat, they're so cute, blahblahblah! We conquered. It's our land now, that's how it works! We win. I actually pulled back into my driveway and got out of my van to chase one of the little bastards out of my yard last week, screaming like a demented Lady McGregor. Crazy.

Oh! Also, our van was hit by a drunk! Pedestrian! I had slowed to turn into our driveway and came to a full stop when he started to stumble backwards. He was fine, though I could've blown a 2.0 after breathing near him as I helped him to his feet! It reminded me of the Gilmore Girls episode where Rory tells everyone, "I got hit by a deer!" "You hit a deer?!" "No, I got hit BY a deer!" Bella Figlia and I have gotten a lot of mileage out of this: "I got hit by a drunk guy..."

Here's my cheesecake recipe:

Preset your oven to 325 degrees. Crush an entire package of Sandies Shortbread cookies (I like to use the pecan kind, and have a package of pecan/chocolate chip Sandies sitting in my cupboard awaiting cheesecakeification.) Mix the crumbs with one stick of melted butter. Press mixture into bottom of spring form pan.

Using hand mixer, beat 2 8oz packages of (room-temperature) cream cheese to remove lumps. Then add: 3 eggs, one cup sugar, 16 oz sour cream and a dash of vanilla. Pour into spring form pan over shortbread cookie crust.

Bake for 45 minutes (middle will look underdone, that's what you want), then pull and cool on counter for 30 minutes before covering with saran wrap and chilling in fridge for at least 4 hours. Try to share! :p

That's all I've got, peoples! Click the RTT button above to visit our girl Keely and have a great random Tuesday!

Love Thursday: Hoya of Love

2009-05-28T16:01:00.000-05:00

A day or two ago, I went to check on my hoyas to see if they needed watering yet and found these two lovebirds intertwined. I'll be re-training them onto their own hoops soon, but thought I'd let them visit for awhile, first.

My love affair with hoyas began a few years back, when I came across this website. Like dahlias, hoyas have seemingly infinite cultivars and I was thrilled when my sister Lisa brought me a rooted cutting from my paternal grandmother's "Jesus Tear's" plant. It was, in fact, a hoya. Not long after (two winters ago), Lee and I joined together to meet the $20.00 minimum order from this site. We were beyond sick of the cold MN weather, and by February I felt crazy, dreaming of the gardens that lay frozen beneath the snow. Indoor plants would have to tide me over and see me through!

When the cuttings arrived, we were delighted to find that Mr. Smoley had sent an average of 4 cuttings per plant. EVERY CUTTING ROOTED. In fact, I even successfully rooted two leaves that we trimmed from the Hoya fungii Lisa had ordered! My only disappointment was that a substitution had been made for the hoya I'd wanted most (hoya diptera). I would later hunt this cultivar down and pay a small fortune in shipping to get a gorgeous specimen from Rob's Violet Barn. I now have eight hoya plants, coiled and reaching toward the sun that streams through the picture window in our living room.

Hoyas take several years to develop before they'll bloom. Lisa's plant from my grandmother just started to put out peduncles (clusters) of pretty white flowers in the last month, and I'm taking it as a sign that maybe next spring...fingers crossed, anyway! In the meantime, here's a lovey song for you:

Happy Love Thursday!

Wordless Wednesday: Fun With Mud

2009-05-27T10:27:00.001-05:00

Dear Lawn, Please Die

2009-05-26T11:56:00.000-05:00

It is spring, and my tulips are finishing their beautiful display. My peonies are starting to bow their heavy heads as the buds swell and ants dance in ecstasy, anticipating the feast of nectar bloom will bring. My columbine have opened, and sway toward one another like the pretty little busybodies they are and my dahlias are green and strong, renewing acquaintance with The Dahlia Jungle. So why am I showing you dandelions? Because they're ALL I CAN SEE!!! Because no amount of Weed and Feed has made a damn bit of difference. Because my pretty gardens just look trashy alongside the Yard From Hell. I dream of replacing the front lawn with a pretty groundcover...but for the work, and the cost...Feh.

Spin Cycle: Take This Kitteh And Call Me In Da Morning

2009-05-22T09:53:00.000-05:00

Dude! I wrote about our menagerie when I first started this blog-can you say, "Repost!"?

(Originally posted Saturday, September 27, 2008)

My husband and I, being of sound mind and body, decided not long ago that we were done having pets. After all, we only had one adult cat who, being a very independent sort, wasn't much trouble at all; he would eventually age and die and then we would be done with the muss and fuss that pets add to your life! We agreed, "After Domino, no more pets!" (Can you guess where this is going?)

Immediately, we were tested. My mother called, asking sweetly whether or not she could get our daughter a kitten for an upcoming birthday. I wavered . (It would make Sissy so happy!) My husband held firm, I remembered our pact and agreed. Our verdict? No kitten.

All went well until my girl's birthday party. It was a great party. However, during said party, our dear friend Doug brought my husband a hedgehog, of all things, that Doug's brother had recently abandoned. My reaction? "Well that's just fine! Are you serious? You say yes to a hedgehog, but no to a kitten?!" "But I've always wanted a hedgehog!" "I've known you for 15 years, and you've never once said that you wanted a hedgehog!" "Well, I did (secretly want one)." "That sucks, Dude!" (Yes, occasionally I actually do talk that way.) "Fine, whatever, Winter can have a kitten." I knew that he didn't mean it, but I was feeling vengeful, so I told my mom.

Back at the ranch, I was having problems of my own. See, a few years ago I had a dog named Rocky ("Rock" for short). He was too big and too sassy and technically my daughter's dog, but I loved him. I was heartbroken when we had to find a new home for him, and something about the autumn air was making me really miss my dog. I started stalking schnoodles and mini-dachshunds online, knowing that their temperaments and size would be a much better fit for our family. I began lingering in dog food aisles at Cub and Target. I wasn't serious, though. I mean, it's not like I had several hundred dollars laying around to drop on a dog. It would be the height of selfish irresponsibility to just get myself a dog when I could barely handle my current responsibilities, right? Right?!

Enter indulgent husband, stage left. Unbeknownst to me, he was aware that I was pining. When my sis came over for a visit, he asked her to watch the kids so that he could steal me away for lunch. We were barely out of the driveway when he said, "Wanna go buy a dog?" I immediately confessed that I'd really been wanting one, and agonizing over the idea. He replied, "I know." I explained that I wanted to show him some of the breeders websites that I'd found online (our humane society had no small dogs available, and I didn't want to perpetuate puppy mills by buying from a pet shop.) Once home, I hopped online and within hours had found the dog that I wanted: a one-year-old female isabella and tan double dapple miniature dachshund, listed for a small fraction of what it would cost for a puppy from the same breeder. In a flurry of phone calls and emails and Paypal transactions I made her mine. My mother had been kind enough to agree to go get her for me, and the next day my new dog Katie joined the household.

Did you forget about the kitten? 'Cause my mom didn't! She was tirelessly searching Freecycle and Craig's List with the sole purpose of finding her granddaughter The Perfect Kitten. After emailing me several possibilities, she found it: a pure white kitten, the likes of which my daughter has been dreaming of ever since she saw The Aristocats at age four. I now had a conundrum: how did I push my luck and get my husband to allow the kitten? I considered just picking it up and springing it on him. I considered lying and saying that we found it all alone...somewhere. In the end, I realised that I couldn't lie to him and 'fessed up. "Honey, you know how my mom called? She was wondering if she could steal Sissy and I away for a little while tomorrow, or maybe just Sissy..." "Sure, what're you guys gonna go do?" "Well, see, here's the thing..." Suddenly I had his full attention, shrewd eyes appraising mine. "I was trying to find a way to tell you, but..." "Just tell me, Ange." So I did. The thing about my husband is that he's mercurial. A very laid back guy with a hot temper, so it's always a crap shoot as to how he'll feel about something. His response when I came clean about kitten machinations? A roll of the eyes, a rueful smile, and, "What's one more at this point? Let her have the kitten!" (He also referenced Animal House.) My mom got my girl the kitten, and my daughter lovingly agreed to "share" with her brother, naming the fluffball Snowbelle Callista Pearl Mohn.

So, in review: over the course of less than two months, the couple who agreed, "No more pets" has added a hedgehog, a dog and a kitten to the mix, quadrupling the amount of pet mouths to feed. We've also agreed that we are done having children.

Aaaand, just because I love this number:

What You Want (Baby, I Got It!)

2009-05-21T19:35:00.000-05:00

Five weeks ago, my bloggy pal Ginny Marie at Lemon Drop Pie nominated me for this loverly award. (Thank you, Ginny!) Clearly, I have lost my freaking mind, because I am just now putting it on my blog. Isn't it refreshing and springy? I think so, too.

Apparently, there are rules that accompany this tart little beauty:

1)Post the logo on your blog.
2)Nominate at least 10 blogs that show great attitude or gratitude.
3)Link to the nominees within your blog post.
4)Notify the recipients of the award by commenting on their blog.
5)Share the love and link back to the person from whom you received your award.

(And) the nominees are:

1) Krissy at Thinking of Blue
2) Jan at Jan's Place
3) K at Interstitial Life
4) LiLu at Livit, Luvit
5) Heather at Geez Louize !!!
6) FoN at Kids and Daiquiris
7) Alisha at For Tuesday
8) Ronda at Ronda's Rants
9) Carebear at Beauty and the Little Beast
10) Becca at Turtle Trax Too

Then I was given THIS coolin' award by that sweetheart Krissy over at Thinking of Blue:

Thank you, Krissy! I'm passing it on to:

1) Bex over at Adventures of the Grigg boys
2) Ginny Marie at Lemon Drop Pie
3) Jen at coconut belly
4) Tiffany at My Random Wisdom
5) Mrs. Bear at Outnumbered Two To One

(No paperwork girls, just enjoy it!)

(And) then, because good things come in threes, my pal Bex over at Adventures of the Grigg boys gave me this:

Thanks, Bex! THIS award DOES come with paperwork (and is totally worth it!) -

I (You) must write a post bragging about it, (which will be very easy for me to do!!) and include the AWESOME person who thought I (you) deserved such an honor and link back to said person so everyone knows he or she is real. Choose a minimum of seven (7) blogs that you find brilliant in content or design. Or improvise by including bloggers who have no idea who you are because you don’t have seven (7) friends.Show the seven (7) random victims’ names and links and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with “Honest Weblog.” Well, there’s no prize, really, but they can keep the nifty icon. Next, in your blog, list at least ten (10) honest things about yourself. Then, pass it on! (Disclaimer, I copied this from Bex who copied this from Laufa who copied this from Shopgirl, hehe. Yes, I even copied the hehe.)

Do You See?! Do you see how cool my pals are?! "Go, A! It's yo birthday! 'Cause you da shiz-nat!" Sufficiently braggy?! I should hope so! Before I break into a rendition of Billy Joel's "Honesty", I'd like to pass this red rectangle of awesomeness to:

1)Just A Chic at It Is What It Is
2)TuTu's Bliss
3)Robin at Love Ya, Mean it!
4)Mrs. Jelly Belly
5)Beth at What I Should Have Said
6)Lori at My Life Interrupted
7)Shalee at Sometimes It's Good To Be Speechless

What?! You're still here?! Srsly?! Fine. 10 honest things about myself:

1) When all else fails, I am not above manipulating my husband and bribing my children to get my way.
2) I have decided that I prefer a cute, spoiled Katie to an obedient Katie. My theory is that making her "sit" is stoopid when you have to double-check whether she's up or down because she's so damn close to the ground.
3) I am really mad at my mom right now, and I don't know how to fix that. I don't want an apology (I know that she didn't mean me harm) and I can't turn back time, so what do I want? What?! I don't know.
4) I will spend the rest of my life trying to be like my Nana and failing. I will never be the great lady she was, but I can strive to make her proud.
5) I am The Greatest Procrastinator Of All Time. If this post doesn't prove it, I don't know what could!
6) I gave Jesse my lighters and put my cigarettes in the freezer...and have been sneaking them ever since, lighting them with the lighter for the grill.
7) I don't actually remember the last time that I wore makeup.
8) I left a bag of M&M's on the floor at my feet and my toddler just dug in, crowing, "NemNem's!" I'm not going to take them away from him...and it's almost dinnertime.
9) I balanced my checkbook today and cringed. We are experiencing what Suze Orman calls a "temporary cash flow problem." Ick.
10) I was listening to a Barbra Streisand cd in the car that my husband just gave me recently, and the song "As If We Never Said Goodbye" from Sunset Boulevard caught me completely off guard. Suddenly I was crying so hard that I had to pull over. Apparently I really miss the theater.

Well, this was the longest most convoluted post EVER. Ah, well. La vie!

Cinderella Flips the Bird

2009-05-20T21:57:00.000-05:00

This morning I walked into ~~the third ring of hell~~ my kitchen and was dismayed to find that my deal with God (made last night during a strenuous prayer session) had not been successful. House elves had not been dispatched, the winning lottery ticket did not have my name on it, and Jason Mraz was not there making me coffee. (The good news is that all bets are off: I can run through red lights and take the Lord's name in vain to my heart's content.)

Anyways, as I was saying: My kitchen is was is filthy. June Cleaver would have a fucking heart attack. Martha would not approve. Neicy Nash would exclaim over my "foolishness!" So I said to myself, "We re-heally need to clean this dump!" I broke the job down into little, easily-managed pieces in my head...and then I went out and bought myself flowers instead. 'Cause I felt like it. 'Cause that's how I roll. 'Cause sometimes, it's all about me.

Quotable Sunday: Happy Mother's Day

2009-05-10T19:40:00.000-05:00

"Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children."~William Makepeace Thackeray

Spin Cycle: Mea Culpa

2009-05-01T11:37:00.000-05:00

"Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa!"

This latin phrase from my childhood translates as, "My fault, my fault, my most grievous fault!" I don't know how it's used by other families, but in MY family it is ONLY used sarcastically. "You think that I made a mistake?! You must be mistaken!" "You're wrong for thinking I'm wrong, so that makes you wrong TWICE!" "Yeah?! Well, MEA CULPA!!!"

I've made thousands (and THOUSANDS) of mistakes! Pick a topic and I've botched it. Career, finances, health and *gasp* childrearing?! Check, check aaaand double-check! My greatest mistake(s), however, are the ones that are also currently causing me the most grief.

Growing up, it did not occur to me that I could go against my parent's wishes. Oh, I rebelled, but the idea of striking out on my own to pursue something that my parents had put "the kibosh" on just didn't register. This is hard to explain. Cases in point: My father refused to pay for my driving lessons and license until I was 18 years old. Did it occur to me to pony up my own cash and arrange rides and the use of a car?! Ummm, no. My mother offered to mail my college applications to NYU and Julliard and then DIDN'T. On PURPOSE. I did reapply on my own the next year, but my dad made too much money for me to get enough financing. (Colleges tend to mistakingly believe that teens automatically get money from their parents for college...not so, my friend.) My mother MOVED JESSE INTO MY BEDROOM. I came home one day, and there he was with a smile and a duffel bag. Oh, and I was dating someone else at the time.

Do I need to take responsibility for my own decisions (including the decision to take the easy road and let the manipulative actions of my loved ones stand?) YES. But that's not my biggest mistake. My biggest mistake has been allowing myself to be penned in. Being full of rage because the most important people in my life are FUCKING DIFFICULT. I've handled it badly. Leaving these people is not an option. Redrawing the lines between us is agonizing. I let myself be railroaded and I regret having put myself in a position where I have little personal freedom. I'm working on it.

For more mistakes, visit Jen over at Sprite's Keeper.

Love Thursday: Home is Where the Heart Is

2009-04-30T11:28:00.000-05:00

painting by Michelle H. Filer

"Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts." ~Oliver Wendell Holmes

Random Tuesday Thoughts: Rakes and Rocket-Dogs

2009-04-28T09:48:00.000-05:00

My son is really starting to speak clearly. Today, while waiting for his french toast, he looked me squarely in the eye and said forcefully, "Eat. Me!" Awesome.

I feel guilty as hell. I dropped the kitten off at the ~~butcher's~~ vet's to be spayed and have her front paws declawed. I don't even agree with the practice of declawing cats, but she can climb over our privacy fence and we live on a busy road, so in the interest of her safety...There's something wrong about spending hundreds of dollars to drop off a perfectly healthy animal and bring home a convalescent. The guilt is killing me!

Has anyone else noticed that Sonia Manzano (Maria on Sesame Street) doesn't age?! WTF?! Plastic surgery? The blood of virgins? I'm just sayin'...

I'm feeling like a frickin' genius today, because not only did I check the weather yesterday to determine whether or not a frost was likely, but I remembered to pull the plants inside before going to bed last night. This morning, sure enough, there was frost on our windshields. Crisis averted! Go, me.

Speaking of plants (and when aren't I?) the Linder's parking-lot nursery has opened for the season across the street. They are carrying three (3!!!) of the plants that I requested (needed) last year, but at the time could only find online for a kajillion dollars. In bulk. I bought one of each the other day, and I am trying really hard not to go back to pick up 6 more. They call to me, and I am tortured by thoughts of them being sold to someone else. I=fat kid, Ajuga reptans v. "Chocolate chip"=cake.

I can't stay inside any longer. It's too fun watching Walker whack things with his little plastic rake while Katie rocket-dogs through the yard and Dom basks in the kids' play-tunnel. I'll come back tonight and read all of your great RTT posts. Promise.

For more Random Tuesday thoughts (and to visit that cool chick Keely), click on the lovely purple button at the beginning of this post. You're welcome. :p

Monday's Muse: Pay It Forward

2009-04-27T02:00:00.000-05:00

I came across a cool (and creative) swap over at Krissy's blog Thinking of Blue and decided to play along:

Pay It Forward

Making handcrafted items is a dying art, but they are so fun to make and get! So, here's a little game to encourage the handcrafting to live and thrive. The first 5 people to leave a comment on this post will receive, at some point during the year, a super-duper handmade gift from me! What it will be and when it will arrive is a total surprise. The catch is that you must participate as well :) So before you leave your comment here, write up (or copy and paste) a pay it forward post on your blog to keep the fun going. Then, come back, let me know you are going to play, and anticipate the arrival of your super-duper handmade gift! Remember that only the FIRST FIVE comments will receive a gift from me, so be quick!

This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:

1. I make no guarantee that you will like what I make. But, I will try my best to make sure that you do. :p
2. It will be done this year (hopefully sooner than later!)
3. You will have no clue what or when it will be. Please make sure to leave your e-mail address too so that I can get ahold of you.