Thankful.

It's Thanksgiving Day 2009. My house smells yummy and I'm getting ready to get the car packed with all my homemade treats and head up to my brother's house for the big feast. And so begins the holiday.

Today I awoke feeling older and wiser. I used to not really care about Thanksgiving. It was just that pain-in-the-butt day before Black Friday when I was in limbo waiting for all the big sales to start. But today...today is different. I feel...thankful. Yeah, I know, it's nothing too creative or earth shattering due to the fact that Facebook is CRAMMED with every one's reasons for being blessed and today is the "normal" day everyone stops to give thanks. But even if today weren't Thanksgiving I think I'd feel this way. You see, I watched this movie called Mammoth last night. And Mammoth changed me. It opened my eyes - even more - to the fact that I'm am so extremely lucky to be able to be home with Zeke as he grows up. I won't summarize the movie - go watch it if you have any interest because it really is moving and amazing. But I will say, that as a "stay-at-home-mom" (that title always cracks me up because as so many people know who try to call me and can never get me, I'M NEVER AT HOME!!!), the movie Mammoth sent my brain reeling into that mode of "Oh my God, thank God I'm here with my kid, walking through life with him, giving him everything he needs, and being his rock." At one time, many many centuries ago, I never thought I'd ever want a child. I thought that my life was great just working, having my pups, having lots of money and cool cars and going to dinners and movies and shopping and blah, blah, blah. Then Zeke came along. And my work seemed meaningless if someone else was raising him. So I quit. And we didn't have as much money, but we still felt rich. Even richer, actually, because we all smiled a whole lot more.

Fast forward four years. Yeah, if I had been working these past four years we may have lots more in savings, lots more in our retirement and tons more "stuff". But my child would also have been raised by a stranger. He wouldn't ask for me when he knocked his front tooth out or when he got road rash on his knees and elbows. I wouldn't have been there to see him write his name for the first time. I wouldn't have held his hand as we strolled through tons of museums and libraries and sat through movies together eating buttery popcorn. And I wouldn't have been the one to hug him tight when something thrilled him, scared him, chilled him or just simply moved him to say "I love you".

I'm thankful, eternally, to God, my husband, and to my Zeke for opening my eyes to Thanksgiving. It's real and it's powerful. And it's not all about the countdown to the big sales. Imagine that.

Lemonhead

Tomorrow Zeke and I have to take all three of the dogs to the vet. Two people, three canines...going to the vet. Doesn't sound like a recipe for goodness. Otto may already have an idea based on the fact that he's half human and probably peeked at the calendar hanging on my fridge. Timmy is clueless and won't realize what's going on until Dr. Jane sticks a needle the size of his leg into his back. And Simon? Let's just say that Sy won't go down without a fight (and a tiny little muzzle - get out the hair scrunchie).

On a brighter note: this evening I was finally able to pick my first lemon off of my Mother's Day Lemon Tree. I've been waiting for about 150 days (literally) to pick this lemon and I've never tasted something so sour but so sweet. That tree was given to me out of love, I've nurtured it and babied it since I saw it, and to see it so happy and so healthy makes me smile. It's tiny little things like a homegrown lemon that count people...really, they do.

Thieves like us.

Today's weather put me in such a good mood. It was sunny and 70 - the perfect day to get outside and rake some leaves, plant some ornamental cabbages, and tidy up the front of the house. My puppies and my boys were out there with me and the sun was shining down on us as if there wasn't a problem in the world. Sounds idyllic, huh? Well, don't be fooled. My bubble was burst a few nights ago and since then, I've been walking around with a big chip on my shoulder. Here's the deal: 8 years ago, Pauly and I moved to this neighborhood because we loved the fact that it was quiet and peaceful and that we had a really pretty horse farm backing up to our property. We fell in love with the land and the house and the views and decided we'd take a chance and make it ours. Well, on Friday night both of our vehicles were robbed. You see, it's sooooo quiet and peaceful around here, that we tend to leave our cars out of the garage, unlocked and sometimes even with the windows rolled down! It was always just "that type of neighborhood". Not anymore. Now it's one of "those types of neighborhoods". Ya' know...the type that has thieves walking around in them. How pathetic. How disgusting. And really, how life-changing. Now, it's really no big deal when I think about what they took: my iPod, my GPS, some gift cards, Pauly's laptop, etc. All of the items stolen can and will be replaced. What can't be replaced is that feeling of "wow, what a great place this is to live in". I no longer feel that way. Now I'm nervous. Now I'm checking and double-checking the doors at night. Now I'm parking in the garage. Now I'm leaving bright lights on outside and disturbing the nocturnal wildlife that used to hang around our property in the faint light of the moon. It's sad. And it's unnatural. We should all be able to co-exist and live peacefully - with each other and with the animals around us. But somewhere along the way it has gotten all muddled up. And in that muddled mess, fear has been bred. I just don't know how to explain to the next generation why we need to acknowledge that fear and slap locks on everything. Because really, I don't believe we should have to.

*sigh*

I'm a little irritated today. Irritated because some things just don't work out exactly the way I want them to all of the time. Today is one of those days. A day that gets under my skin, gnaws at my gut, and reminds me that I can't and won't ever be fully in control of everything. That...that little fact...really seems to put a damper on things. Today the fact that I have Lupus is bringing me down. And I've refused for many years to allow the "L" word to sink it's teeth into my psyche or my soul. But today is different because today I find it hard to hold a pen or even type this post. Today the Lupus is attacking the bones in my hands and well, it just really sucks. I've dropped so many things in the past 24 hours that I've stopped counting. I've winced in pain as I tried to grab the bag of groceries from the guy at Giant. And I've gulped down a ton of Motrin trying to forget that my hands are fighting a battle that is ongoing and downright irritating. But more than anything, I feel a little bit defeated when I get like this. Is this really how it's going to be? Am I going to allow something like Lupus control my destiny and my life? And more importantly, do I have a choice? I'm saying YES. Yes I have a choice and yes I'm going to be fine. Because that's the path I choose. The hand thing? This will pass. Just like the knee sitch passed a few weeks ago. And the neck sitch, and the hip sitch, and the eye sitch, etc., etc., etc. They all came and went and I was still left here..."just plain Nancy". The Lupus won't be a part of who I am...it'll just be a gnat flying around my head as I trek through life. But some days...gosh, some days that gnat just keeps buzzing a little too close to my ear.

Weenie meanies.

Wow. It's been a while since I've posted. Life moves fast when you're in the left lane, I suppose. In my mind, I try to stay in neutral..ya' know..look around, smell the roses, that sort of thing..but in reality I think I'm always zipping about trying to accomplish this, that, and the other thing. If I'm not actually doing something, I'm THINKING about what I'm GOING to be doing in the near future. But that's a story for a later date.

So, what's new news here, you ask? Halloween '09 happened. I found the actual Halloween night to be a MAJOR, COMPLETE, TOTAL bomb. Lucky for Zeke, he had about 3 or 4 other events before the 31st to celebrate and wear his costume. I, on the other hand, just didn't get my fill of the 'Weenie. To start off, it rained. Ok, I've trick-or-treated in the rain before and still scored tons of loot. Rain can be dealt with. But here's what made the night really lame: Zeke and I were the only people out on our street knocking on doors. One guy didn't even know why we were at his doorstep!!!! It was a very awkward moment - my kid and me standing there, hands out, smiling big, and this guy in his lounge wear looking at us with a puzzled stare. WHAT DID HE THINK "TRICK OR TREAT" MEANT????? OH MY GOD. By the time we got home, we were wet, sweaty (because it was a humid, muggy, rainy night and God knows we have to walk like 26 miles to get to 7 houses around here....SO not worth it) and in horrible moods. The one thing I knew would cheer both Zeke and me up was the dumping of the candy onto the kitchen table and the celebration of the score. So, we took off our wet gear, put away the flashlights, and ran for the kitchen with the goodie bag. Zeke dumped the HUMONGOUS bag onto the table as we all held our breath and.................................6 candy bars dropped out. 6. SIX. Six. SIIIIIXXXXX. And about 4 of them were tiny little bite sized bars. OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG. What was the point of this 'Weenie Mission? Why did we even trek all around our neighborhood, knocking on doors, making small talk, showing off the costume, etc., etc.??? I mean, I had an entire bowl of enormous Snickers bars sitting at the front door just waiting for some Michael Jackson Ghosts or Transformers to show up and hold out their goody bags! Couldn't I have simply filled Zeke's bag up with our own stash? The answer is simple: no. Halloween is about getting out there and visiting your neighbors. Not texting them, not emailing them, not phoning them, and not simply waving to them as you do 40 m.p.h. past their driveway in a rush to get to your next appointment. It's a time to pretend - a time for the kids to pretend they're someone or something else and for us parents to pretend we actually have the time to stand on each others' doorsteps and chat for a bit. And that's why next year, despite the 6 tiny little candy bars in Zeke's huge bag, we'll still be out there all alone in our neighborhood, knocking on doors and saying "Happy Halloween".

October List

Some things Zeke and I like at the moment:

1. fresh apples dipped in crunchy peanut butter
2. seeing Petey the neighbor horse at the corner everyday. He loves the fall weather - NO FLIES to bother him!
3. this new pink colored Dove soap that smells soooo yummy
4. staying up late when the Phillies are on...even though we're bandwagon fans.
5. our parakeet's obsession with our chihuahuas
6. my lemon tree. even though he's been moved indoors, he's thriving.
7. all of the awesome candy choices in the Halloweenie aisles!


Some things that really stink:

1. the H1N1 flu mania
2. the fact that it seems to rain every single weekend
3. the fact that the wind blows down our super-awesome spooky Halloween decorations outside
4. dry skin
5. everyone seems to be getting sick

And finally, one thing that strikes me as really odd:

1. Zeke continues to stand on his head. A lot. And everywhere. At home, at school, at the park, in the playground, even at the doctor's office. It's just strange. What's even stranger is the fact that I'm the one who ends up with the headache.

I think you've got something in your teeth. Oh, nevermind, it's just a swing.

Things must have been getting too quiet around here. Craziness came a knockin' on Thursday as I drove to pick up Zeke at school. My celly rang and it was his teacher informing me that there was an accident on the playground and Zeke's mouth intercepted a swing. He was crying and only wanted to talk to me about it. I was only 5 minutes away at that point, but factoring in the "mommy lead foot" effect, I made it to school before the song playing on my iPod was over. I ran in and grabbed my little guy while simultaneously doing a once over...ok, ok, all fingers, toes, limbs, eyes and head in place...but then I noticed all of the blood on his sweatshirt. In my world it was bad. I told the teachers I could handle it from there and whisked him away in my car. Now, as my good old friend Weezie will tell you, I am NOT GOOD in emergencies. I freeze up. I choke. I panic. As I drove with my injured kiddo in the back, I wondered silently...where am I going??? Hospital? To my mom's? To Pauly's office? To the park so I can pretend that none of this happened??? As it turned out, I drove home, pulled Zeke out of the car and surveyed the damages a bit more closely. No cuts on the face, no bruising. I lifted his top lip and OH MY GOD...THE GAPING BLOODY HOLE was staring at me. His inner, upper lip was completely torn up and his top front tooth was bloody. My heart stopped and my mind went blank. I handed Zeke his school bag and told him to go inside for a minute. He was still crying a little bit and simply asked me "but what about my bent tooth?" Ummmm, yeah, what about it, I wondered. I stared into my cell phone for a minute and realized I had to GET MY SHIZZLE TOGETHER. Like now. Then it happened. I snapped into full-scale trauma mode and went into overdrive. I ran in and started treating the cut lip and "bent tooth" with one hand and dialed the doctor and dentist with the other. The doctor told me the cut would heal on it's own - no matter how grotesque looking it was. We had to ride it out. The tooth was a different animal tho. The dentist told me to get to the office - STAT. Two x-rays later and it was revealed that Zeke's front tooth had been hit so hard that the roots were fractured up above the gum line. There is no treatment for this type of trauma other than tooth extraction. I left there with a copy of the x-rays, a script for an antibiotic, and a referral for the oral surgeon. The next day, 8 am sharp, we were in the oral surgeon's office awaiting the extraction. By 10:30, my little baby boy was out of surgery and minus a front tooth while I was PLUS a migraine the size of the Ukraine. It was time to go home, pull the blinds, and snuggle up for the day as we both recovered.

This saga has been nuts. It has given me a serious look at how a sick kid can devastate your soul and make you rethink all that is important in your world. Zeke's mouth is healing and his swollen lip is receding. Soon all he'll be left with is a gap in the front of his mouth that I'll somehow find super-cute. I'm just thankful that a toothless smile is the biggest problem this has led us to...for that, I'm eternally thankful. Well, that, and the fact that school pictures were taken on Monday - 3 days before that smile got ransacked...

Small time and liking it.

Today has me thinking. Like "deep thinking" thinking. It all started when Zeke attended a gymnastics class with his friend Kyle. Kyle's gym had "Bring a Friend Day" and Zeke was invited to check it out with Kyle. Zeke was nervous at first and even shed a few tears when he realized I wouldn't be in the gym with him, but after he saw how much fun it was, he warmed right up to it. After the class was over, his teacher raved on and on to me about Zeke's athletic skills and how he could quite possibly hang with the older kids in the 6 to 10 year-olds. Now, I know she meant this as a complement, but it just spoke volumes to me about life in general. Everyone is in a rush. A rush to get somewhere, a rush to get ahead, a rush to MAKE IT. And here it is, starting in a preschooler's gymnastics class! Zeke wasn't bored in the 3 & 4 year-old class. He was smiling and running and generally having a great time. He never once said to me that he'd like to move on to something more difficult or challenging or older. In fact, he seemed to actually enjoy just PLAYING...with no huge competition. Just innocent play. It made me think about all the pressure that will be resting on my boy's shoulders someday. And it made me realize that that pressure isn't going to start now in a gymnastics class. For now, he's going to run around with 3 and 4 year-olds. And he's not going to have to excel physically or athletically to impress me. And most of all, he's going to laugh like he means it.

Retro wheels.

It seems that I've caused quite a stir for replacing my old car with the SAME EXACT make, model, and color car. I'm a little surprised and flattered by this. I didn't know people cared so much about what I drove. Here's the deal: I searched around for about 3 months for the perfect car for my needs. I drove a few, scouted out a few, and googled a few. Nothing seemed to fit. Some were too big, some were too small, and some were just plain too fancy. Pauly doesn't do fancy. Nancy does fancy. But Pauly reigns me in. Soooo sad. But, he's right...it's crazy to spend $60K on a CAR. So, after some thought, I realized...I like what I have but I just needed it updated. So that's what we did. The dealer added in a few extra bells & whistles and poof! I have my "old" car sitting in my driveway...but it's new. And I'm ok with that.

Brusied and contused.

'Tis the season for fall festivals. This past weekend we went to one in the Chester County area and Zeke had a ball. I enjoyed it aside from the fact that I twisted my ankle about (literally) 6 times. Have any of you guys seen those green tennis-ball looking thingy-things on the ground around here? They're everywhere. Pick 'em up and smell them and they're a lemon/Mr. Clean hybrid. I think it's actually possible to score a cheap high on the scent. I digress. So these tennis-ball thingy-things are ankle crackers. Especially with improper footwear on. Which is typically the case in my world. But, bruised ankles aside, Zeke had fun and our calendar is jam-packed with fall festivals galore. I'll be sure to revise my footwear sitch.

Bliss.

Pauly and I are back from Watch Hill, RI. This marks the first time that we left Zeke and took a trip alone since he was born. Crazy stuff. Although this was a business trip for Pauly, he wanted me to come along since there were a few dinners and luncheons where spouses were welcome. It was nice to get away and feel like an adult again, but my oh my did I miss my Zekey-pants. Watch Hill was beautiful. It's a beach town with tons of character and beautiful homes to match. While the guys were in meetings, the girls took tours, went sightseeing, and visited nearby Mystic, CT. Give me a few weeks of mommyville again and I'll be ready to go back.

Egg on his face (windshield).

It's a gorgeous fall-y September morning. I woke up early, showered, dressed and woke up the boys to get a start to the day. I wanted to go out to Wegman's to stock the pantry for Mom Mom Cookie's arrival this weekend so that she and Zeke could have some fun eating snacks and catching up. As we drove out of our neighborhood, what did I see??? THE PRIVATE PROPERTY PIRATE. Maybe you remember, maybe you don't..but about this time last year a big, fat, mulleted, camouflaged, UFC-watching, cheap beer drinking, poop-toothed a-hole decided it was going to be ok to hunt for deer in the woods in my 'hood. I had words with him regarding this sitch and told him it was against the law to hunt private property and more importantly, so close to, ummmm, PEOPLE....and the mud muncher told me that he "was the law" so he wasn't worried about it. That was the point in the conversation that I explained to him my feelings on his hunting habit (i.e. that it was a shame he was scraping the barrel so lowly that he had to shoot Bambi for his din-din instead of hitting up the Genuardi's produce aisle. In fact I think I told him that the Florida grapefruits were 3 for a $1 that week and he should look into loading up on his fruit and veggie intake instead of his current protein overload. I noted his heavily expanded waistline and double chin as proof...). Buuuuut, much to my dismay, he's back and creeping again in the woods. Looks like I need to buy myself a dozen eggs and teach him a lesson or two...or twelve.

Post Game Wrap Up

Week One of preschool is over. It went smashingly well to my supergigantichugelyenormous surprise. I fully expected nuclear meltdown in the carline when we pulled up to do the day one drop off. You see, in Zeke's school, we do drop off and pick up the good 'ol American way - drive thru style. It's a very sweeeeeeeeeet method - I get to stay in the car while the teacher comes out and does the dirty work of prying Zeke out of his cartoon-and-cereal-bubble into the real world of A-B-C's and 1-2-3's. I went through a few periods last year when Zeke threw the backpack aside, attached himself to my car's headrest, and held on for dear life rather than be yanked into the "real world". Oh, and I should say thanks to Teacher Mary for doing a bang-up job of prying his strong-as-stainless-steel fingertips out of my car leather each and every time during those rough periods and finally getting him into the classroom kicking and screaming. Seems that once she got him in there, he really did enjoy himself after all. But for this week, at least, the removal tactics have not yet had to be deployed. All systems were a go and Zeke's new teacher - Teacher Joyce - seems to have gotten him on her side early in the game. Let's just see if she has the all the right moves to keep him there.

Ring the bell.

This sums up Zeke's attitude about ending his summer vacation and beginning preschool today.

45 pounds of liver.

Zeke starts his second year of preschool tomorrow. Well, he doesn't technically "start"...he goes in for an hour while I go to the school meetinghouse and talk parent business. But still. He's out of my sight. Out of my control. Out of my life. For an hour. Might not sound long to you, but to me? It's VERY VERY long. You see, I grew a second liver when I had a baby. Or a third kidney. However you want to put it. All I know is an extra appendage/organ grew. And grew and grew and grew. And now every day it seems to get bigger and heavier and tougher to manage. I have to decide if it's ok for it to go certain places, for certain people to influence it, for it to be exposed to certain television/radio shows. I have to make sure this appendage doesn't get hurt or too tired or too hungry or too thirsty. This appendage is, well...special to me. For some reason, for the past four years and some odd months, my body hasn't been able to function without it. Strange what those little appendages do to you, huh?

'Doing it up.

It's a shame for Mary. Mary is the sweet, very patient woman that cuts Zeke's hair. Today, Mary earned every dollar I paid her. You see, I haven't taken Zeke for a haircut all summer. He's been rocking the buzz cut for a while and I can just clip that easily enough at home. So, it was bye-bye Mary for a while there. And I could tell that a problem was brewing early this morning when Zeke bristled at the fact that he was to going to get reacquainted with Mary later on in the afternoon. My plan of action was to tire him out at the park, feed him, then let Mary attack with the clippers. Zeke had other plans. When we arrived at the salon the meltdown commenced. There were tears, screams, fists flying, feet stomping, frowns and shouts everywhere. I had to pick him up and place him on the seat. Not too cool. He finally settled in for the cut and I thought had taken on a better attitude about the whole sitch since Mary hooked him up with two lollipops. Not true, unfortunately. After Mary brushed him off and told him what a good boy he ended up being, she instructed him to trot over to the mirror to check out his new 'do. Zeke did. When he saw his haircut, he pulled his lollipop out of his mouth long enough to announce to the entire salon that he looked like a "goofball". What a jerk.

Rant.

There are going to be people who read this post and roll their eyes, sigh, and shake their heads. And really, I don't think that's ok. Because what I'm going to write about is life. And the reverence for it. Now, brace yourself, because the "V word" is about to be mentioned yet again. Vick, that is. As in, Michael Vick, the shithead football player that the Crapadelphia Eagles just signed not so long ago. The Vick topic was once again mentioned on Facebook and it started my animal rights wheels turning. The author of the topic stated his opinion that in no way was an animal's life as important as a human being's. The hairs on the back of my neck stood WAY up as I read that. I steadied my emotions, cooled the steam in my head, and tried to reason with myself. How could it be possible that I equate an animal life to a human life? How do they compare? And here's what I came up with: I can't reason it. I can't judge it. If I didn't create either completely amazing entity, then how can I place value on them? Sure, to us as humans, our "baby humans" are worth their weight in gold. But what about a baby cow, horse, or duck? How do we know that the proud parents of those sweeties don't feel the same? Because they lack the verbal skills to communicate it? Because they can't write it down in a letter? What a sad and ignorant people are we if we lack the judgment and heart to realize that the animal kingdom is not our creation. It's simply a gift on loan for us to admire and yes, sometimes love. Only the creator of all of us, including the animals, is in a position to deem one more worthy of life than the other. Until then, we should live together, respecting each other's place on this earth.

And you know you don't want to be on that second list.

Some funny things at the moment:

1. my parakeets have been loose and on the run (around the upstairs of my house) for 48 hours. They go back to their cage at night but as soon as the sun rises, they're in flight mode. And yes, I've been finding myself vacuuming and wiping up bird doodie. I feel it's a small price to pay for the jungle-like atmosphere they're providing. I love those little birdies.

2. I found one of the little parakeets perched on Timmy's (my sweet chihuahua) tail earlier today while Timmy was asleep in his doggie bed.

3. Zeke and the Under Armour sitch. He thinks he's the bee's knees in his Under Armour. It's pretty hilarious/ridiculous. Must post picture soon.

4. I had a random snapshot of Zeke sitting on my dresser the other day. I had put it aside to slip into a scrapbook. I found it today, on the floor of the hallway, with the name "Zeke" scrawled across the back in a 4-year-old's handwriting. I asked Zeke if he wrote his name on the back and why, and he said it was so that I'd always remember who it was in the picture. Like I'd ever forget.

5. An older woman in front of me at Rite Aid was picking up about 9 prescriptions today along with asking the pharmacist to "sort out her pill bottle". Ummmmm, the pill bottle contained about 4,936 pills in every color of the rainbow. What the????? She then proceeded to tell the pharmacist that her head hasn't been the same since she "ran her car into that tree..." OMG. Buckle up for safety, people.


And of course, a few things that are currently on my nerves:

1. my rental car. I want my own car back.

2. my hair. I need Dawn to work her magic.

3. the fact that it's about that time when all of my dentist/doctor appointments come due. DOOOOOOOOOOOOD, that's total B.S.

4. I need a pedicure but I'm afraid of dirty nail salons. I don't like someone else peeling skin off of me and the smell of those places sends me into the Migraine Hall of Fame.

5. School starts soon and that means that Zeke will be gone 4 days a week. Ok, it's only 2.5 hours a day, but still....4 days a week is A LOT!!!! 3 days a week was fine last year. Why did he have to get a year older????? waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Good TImes.

August is flying on by at warp speed. I know this because my birthday is right around the corner. I say this with gleeeeeeeeeeeeee in my heart knowing that Pauly and Zeke will make my day special in their own funny ways. Pauly, if you're reading this, I'll forward you some links for gift ideas...we all know how brutal your jewelry taste can be. Think red necklace Pauly, red necklace. Anyway, Zeke and I have been enjoying this final spurt of summer to it's fullest and here's what we've been doing (in as few words as possible):

we've seen a travelling petting zoo, cat sat for a few weeks and fell in love with her (the cat), went to see Blue's Clues Live! and met the "real" Steve (I like Joe better), played on the beach and witnessed a beach wedding, explored the Delaware Museum of Natural History with friends, we camped with Mom Mom Mare and Poppy, we went to the library and finally confessed to losing Percy and the Pirates (only cost $8.95, oh well), ate a lot of fresh corn on the cob from Wynoor Farms, hid Otto in 4,951 of Zeke's stuffed animal friends, went to Dutch Wonderland and it was clean, went to Sesame Place and it was dirty, saw the Chik-Fil-A cow and realized most of our table was eating McDonald's food, we had an afternoon pizza date - just the 2 of us, we Chuck E. Cheesed with Brandon, took pony rides, nursed Pauly through an infected spider bite that required antibiotics, played on the Sporty Squiggles Sports Team, celebrated many birthdays (happy b-day Rocco, Tristan, Lukey, and Meadow!), took swim lessons with Corey, fed the geese down the street, pampered the horsies on the corner with apple and peppermint snacks, ate unbelievable pizza at Tacconelli's with the Duffs (had such a good time - love them!), saw a Blue Heron at the pond down the street, bat watched, helped Tommy and Sue move into their beautiful new home (or rather helped them break in the new pool!), and finally, we had a slumber party at the Hampton Inn in Bethlehem with Mom Mom Mare and Poppy.

It's been a full month or two. And I've loved spending it with my favorite kid in the world...

Loser.

I'm at a loss right now. An absolute loss. I just heard on the t.v. that Michael Vick has been signed to the Philadelphia Eagles. People, don't even mess with me on this one. Don't argue the point, don't give me opposing points of view...just go with me. I am ADAMANT that this man be banned from being allowed to PLAY any sport let alone be paid tons of money to do so. I can't even begin to tell anyone how deeply I'm hurt with this decision. Doesn't anyone have any respect for the animals on this earth anymore? Surely there must be someone, just one person out there, who understands. Michael Vick doesn't deserve another dime. Nothing. But...he will be getting millions. To play football. Again. After he tortured and killed dogs. Nice. Really gives me lots of faith in the human race...

Crumpled

So it's been not-so-fab around here. And here's why: on Saturday we were in a car accident. Thankfully, all three of us were fine, but it was waaaaaay scary. Oh, and my car? Not good. It has $6K worth of damage and won't be out of the shop for weeks. I'm sad and depressed that I'm now driving around in a disgusting rental car. The thing that's making me more sad is the fact that Zeke is a paranoid back-seat driver now. He seems to be afraid that we're going to get in another accident. It's not good. I guess it'll pass but I just wish he didn't have to experience the terror that comes along with a pretty significant car accident at such a young age.

Besides the accident, another thing weighing on me is the imposing fear that summer is coming to an end. I feel it. I sense it. I see it on t.v. with all of the back-to-school ads. Most of all, I know it's coming because my birthday will be here soon (wooooohoooo!). As soon as my birthday ends, summer ends. Sad. I'm hoping that my attitude will change, as it does most years, and I'll get excited for fall...but so far I'm not feeling it. One bright note: I checked out Missy's blog and it pumped me up for some fall fashion. Thanks Missy - and I LOVE the Equestrian Frye Boots!!!

sigh, headshake, eyes-r-rolling...

Way too much sports-related stuff going on in my life at the moment. Phillies, rumblings of the Eagles, and just to ramp it up a bit....4 nights a week of pee wee football. Can't...go....into...full...story....yet. I'm just now understanding that summer may be coming to an abrupt end before I've really gotten my toes wet yet.

The Quest(ion)

We thought we had a good idea to take off on Saturday and head for the beach. "Just do a quickie day trip" Pauly and I said to each other. After all, that's one of the perks of living so close to the sea, huh? Sadly, everyone else had the same idea. A car ride that should have taken an hour and 45 minutes was painfully stretched into almost 5 hours because of traffic. To be fair, I must disclose that 2 potty breaks were inserted into that 5 hours, but c'mon...5 HOURS????? Brutal. Honestly, I think I would have rather a re-do of the Sesame Place Massacre that was put upon me last weekend (long story, but let me just say that S.P. is horrific and I'll never go back: dirty, crowded, smelly...need I say more?). I CAN say that once we planted ourselves on the beach, it was nice. But even then, I felt like I was smothered by tons of other sea-worshippers. I'm not sure anymore of what exactly is relaxing. It's a constant quest...something of a mystery now that Pauly is uber-connected to work both physically (via Crackberry & computer) and mentally. Running miles and miles away from home to supposedly "get away from it all" didn't quite work out this weekend. And now that I think about it, why did we run? We should have stopped to smell the flowers right here in our own gorgeous backyard. Note to self: slow down and slow Pauly down. Every weekend doesn't need to be action packed to the hilt. Sometimes just sitting on the deck, hearing the horses and sipping some tea is the best way to escape it all. How 'bout that?

Pass the kleenex.

Time to jot this one down in the baby book: Zeke doesn't call me "mommy" anymore. It's strictly "mom". I find it uncomfortable and way too grown up sounding. I've gotta go...I can't type through the tears.

I want my baby back.

And I finally got it. My computer, that is. It's been sick, lazy, and completely hung up for the past few weeks so I bit the bullet and parted ways with it a few days ago to let a technogeek tune it up. But, alas, it's back...and I'm feeling much more connected to the world now. I felt horrible ignoring this site, leaving it withering on the vine. And I know all four of the people who read this spectacular slice of literary genius have missed it terribly. Not to worry though...I'm up and running and as you'll see, life has kept on keeping on while I was away. Check out our pix to the right - we've had a fun few weeks.

As I part for the day, here are a few shouts:

1. Good luck Tommy & Susan. 2 weeks will fly by and before you know it you'll be pool partying!

2. Thanks Mom and Dad for letting us bunk out with you last week. Zeke loved the camping experience and is now addicted to roasting marshmallows.

3. GWBD Pauly. Very important to remember. And, as always, you rock. We love you.

4. Christopher: where are you? Call your sister.

5. Oh, and we are kitty cat-sitting for a few weeks for Daisy the cat. I'm not sure we'll want to give her back after 2 weeks...she's a sweetie. So, shouts to you Daisy. Welcome to our cribby.

My life in pictures.

Where have I been, you ask? Around. It's strange because I look at my calendar sitting here on my desk and I don't really have much written on it. A week-long camp for Zeke here, another one there. But nothing too major. For some reason tho, I'm finding it difficult to fit my blog into my days. It's important to me tho. Important to keep my peeps in the loop of my life and important so that I can look back and simply remember all the times I've spent with my boys. So, here it is. My past week in pictures over there to the right. Enjoy. I know I have. And that's what summer is all about.

Baby bird.

There are times that having a child tests my patience to the extreme. And I do mean the extreme. Like, I imagine picking him up, throwing him over my deck and across my back lawn...but then I gather my wits a moment or two later, remembering that, after all, that's why law enforcement was invented. Conversely, there are times like today that I realize there is no bond and no love stronger than that of a child and his parent. You see, I've been putting off going to get some blood drawn for WEEEEKS now...it's way, way overdue. Maybe even 2 months. I've just ignored it and put tons of other things before it so that I didn't have to deal. I detest dealing with medical issues. But today was the day that I knew I had to go, get the blood work done, and simply move on. So, after Zeke and I met Mom Mom Mare for lunch and did some Target damage, I told him the plan for me to get my blood work completed. I thought he was fine with it, but about 2 minutes later I heard him burst into tears. I asked him why he was crying and he told me he didn't want me to get hurt. It was then that I realized how much this little 45 pounder loved me. I'm his world, his lifeline. Now, I know at some point he'll fly from the nest. I'm just happy that for now, this little nest is so important to him.

Celebrate that, MJ.

Warning to all of you Michael Jackson lovers: this isn't MJ friendly territory. Stop reading if you will be offended.

Ok, here we go. Today I went to clean up the doggies' newspapers. You see, my pups are all paper trained to go to the potty on newspapers if they're not outside. It's nice and easy, especially since they're all tiny little guys. Well, today when I went in to clean up the used papers, I felt a wave of justice run through me. On one of the used newspapers on the floor, there was a picture of MJ standing on top of a car with his arms up above his head in jubilation. He was celebrating the fact that he was "cleared" of child molestation charges a few years back. Now, we all know in the backs of our minds that MJ was more than a bit "strange" when it came to little kids. In my opinion, it's unforgivable. My sweet revenge this morning??? Apparently one of my chi-chi's agrees with me because when he had to do poopie, he aimed it directly onto MJ's head. Thanks puppy dog!

Homefront.

It's been a while, huh? I received a text today from Piggy (Chris, my brother) informing me that my blog was stale and boring and needed updating ASAP. Well, at least someone is reading. I'll take it as a complement.

We are officially done all of our travels for a while now. We did Disney, then England, and just arrived home from Arizona this past weekend. I'm tired. Tired of packing, unpacking, flying, etc., etc. It was fun and we made some awesome memories, but it'll be nice to be on the home front for an "extended stay" (like that, Jaime??). So, check out the Arizona slide show and stay tuned for future updates...there's always something going on around here. And hey Piggy...thanks for reading.

P.S. out to my mom and dad: thanks so much for keeping my pups alive while I was gone. I think they would have packed their bones and left me if you guys hadn't stepped in and cared for them these past few times I've been away. The King is thankful and so are we - you guys rock!

Get down with the science.

Zeke has been at Science Camp all this week. I've been living vicariously through him. I know, I know, I'm setting him up for a few decades of "the couch" (a.k.a. psychological counseling) but, it's just so darn cool! They've been doing some sweeeeeeeeeeeeet stuff in that camp!!! Today, I was spying from the window in the classroom and they were dissecting the stomach contents of an owl!!! In case you didn't know (and I didn't until Zeke told me), an owl eats birds, so they were finding all types of bird bones and bird skulls in there! As they found the bones, they matched them up to a diagram to determine which bird bone they had uncovered! And these kids are 4 and 5 years old! Very cool stuff in a very easygoing and fun environment. So, hats off to Teacher Doreen. She has managed to keep 5 boys, aged 4 and 5 years, interested and behaved for four straight days so far. Ummm, I wonder if she does weekends...

This just in...

The big news of the weekend: Zeke can ride a two-wheeler. Yep. It happened. My baby boy wanted his training wheels off and was ready for the big leagues. So, we took off the extra appendages on Friday, he jumped on the tiny Trek, and away he went. It wasn't 100% smooth, there was slight road rash involved, but I'm sad to say that the training wheels are now stuck in a box on the shelf in the garage. *sigh* Just one more stage telling me that he's growing up and moving on...

That's goodness.

Random thoughts about some things I like at the moment:

1. the very awesome tea I brought home from England. The teabags make great hot and iced tea. Yum yum. I'm trying very hard to save some for Pop Pop Ebs - he's a tea drinker too. I think he'll appreciate the deliciousness.

2. the fact that the nights are warmer and brighter. I just love going hiking at night in the Preserve or in the State Park and not needing a sweatshirt or parka. Love this time of year!

3. the chihuahua I saw at the pet shop today. He was stunning and sweet and so cuddly. Two reasons he's still at the pet store: A. Pauly and B. I'd rather adopt than buy.

4. the fact that my Dad has me completely obsessed with the stock market and the stock I just bought. Who knew it could be so fun?

5. Petey the horse on our corner is out in the pasture ALL the time now. And he kisses me on the lips now. I think we're officially past dating and now "going steady." Sorry Pauly.

Horses, my rosegarden, good purses, my "circle"...all the good things in life.

Weekend is over in a flash. I feel jipped because Saturday didn't turn out as sunny as promised by el lamo weatherpeople. We solved that issue by going to the movies to see "Up." Very cute movie and it had a sweet storyline. I actually had tears in my eyes a few times. It had me thinking about life and all the little things I do each day that make me genuinely happy. Think about it...when you're gone from this life, what will people say you enjoyed? Will they even know? If not, figure it out and start doing it. You're not getting any younger, my friends. Sorry to sh** on your Sunday, but it's true. I'm mentally pledging to myself to learn more, do more, and be more passionate about my interests. When I go from this world, people are gonna' talk. And it's not just gonna' be about how many purses they have to clean out of my spare bedroom...

Sandbox shennanigans.

Zeke had soccer today. His soccer class is held on the field at one of our favorite parks, so we decided to pack a lunch and stay afterwards for a little extra fun. We met a few friends and hung out for a bit. As my friends and I were getting lunch ready, there was a pretty large group of boys digging a very, very big hole in the sandbox. We thought absolutely nothing of the very, very big hole. As long as no one was arguing, hitting, spitting, or kicking and as long as no one was going head-first into the hole...no problemo. That was our big mistake. If something is interesting to a group of 4 year old boys for an over-extended period of time, it should raise a bright red flag. Today, for some reason, it didn't. And that's where the shoe trouble enters. As it turns out, the 4 year old boys were burying something. Something that wasn't theirs. Something that wasn't supposed to be buried...very deep...in a big hole...in the huge sandbox. They buried Gracie's shoe. Her tiny pink Croc. And when we finally discovered that Gracie's Croc was missing, there was absolutely NO sign of a hole ever existing in the sandbox. That is how amazingly well these 4 year old savages cleaned up their mess (for the first time in their small lives). So, the next 30 minutes were spent by 3 adult women and a few tiny little girls digging and shoveling on hands and knees in the very big, very deep, and very gross sandbox until finally the tiny pink Croc was found. When asked why the Croc was buried, Zeke only replied "because it was treasure."

Argh.

No habla manual labor.

It's unbelievably nice out today. 80's and sunny and breezy. What did we have to do in all of this great weather? Paint our back deck. Somehow, I got roped into helping with this "outdoor" job. I don't see the fairness. My mental division of labor goes something like this: anything inside the house that doesn't involve complete disgustingness, I'll do. Anything outside of the sticks and bricks, Pauly does. So why was I on the end of a paintbrush all afternoon? ON MY HANDS AND KNEES PAINTING THE SKINNY LITTLE SLATS IN BETWEEN THE DECK . And if any of you reading this are married, you will understand this...arguing with Pauly ALL afternoon about how all of this manual labor should be done. Ew. Not a good day.

Mortality strike.

Today we buried my grandmom. Well, my brothers and I called her "Nanny". Of course it was sad and emotional and all that goes with a funeral, but I think what hit me most was the fact that I could actually see my immediate family aging before my very eyes. I'm getting older, my brothers are getting older, and my parents are getting older. It freaks me out. I officially have no grandparents now. Strange. It's a sense of loss and empty that's in my heart today but also a sense of appreciation for the fact that I realize that importance of my "circle". My family is important to me. And on days like today, days that we lose and bury someone, it's good to stand next to them and know that I can lean on them.

England scoop.

We're back. From England, that is. It was a great place to visit and get to know, but of course I have tons of opinions I need to share with you all. So here we go:

1. Not all British people have jacked-up teeth. It was the first thing I investigated, beeeeelieve me. In fact, it seems they have pretty good dental plans over there and that most of them are indeed flossing.

2. I'm not sure why, but England has a very poor potty situation going on. In many ways. Here's the sitch: if/when you DO have to go, finding a potty is tough. They hide their potties very well. It's almost as if they're embarrassed at the thought of peeing/pooping. I wanted to wear a button that said "Even the Queen poops." But, for me, nope, not enough potties for my general comfort. I mean, I drink tons of water. Tons of water = many trips to the loo. Supply me with facilities puuuleeeze. Then, once you do finally find the coveted "toilets" as they call them, it's an adventure. Now, first let me start with a complement. I love their potty doors. They go all the way to the floor. That's where the U.S. has a major breakdown in potty policy. I don't like the fact that in a public restroom, the door only comes down to about 18" above the floor. Why can't it be a full-sized door??? The U.K. got this part of the "toileting" right. But it stops there. Once you do your business, the U.K. wants to really, really jip you on the t.p. (toilet paper, that is). The dispenser gives it to you in SINGLE SHEETS!! What's that all about??? It takes a good 3 to 4 minutes just to get a sufficient amount of t.p. in hand! Then when you try to flush your "stuff".....OMG. Their plumbing is ridiculous. There's no water pressure, no heavy flush, nothing. A small trickle of water comes down...if you're lucky. So what's that mean to the potty-goer? It means you get the former potty-goer's leftovers, that's what!!!! Not nice. So here's my thing: I need more potties, more paper, and more flush please. Just more of everything....except for my neighbor's leftovers. Less of that and more of the aforementioned and the potty sitch will be golden.

3. You know I've got to talk about the driving dealio. Why drive on the left side? As far as my research tells me, the U.K. is by far in the minority by choosing to drive on the left. And they're so uppity about it. Anytime someone would ask me how I was managing with my driving, if I'd dare say I was having difficulty getting used to driving on the wrong side of the road, those crazy Brits would give me a lathering. Whatevs, I left my mark on a few curbs and our rental car (I simply couldn't judge the left side and curb-surfed way too much for Pauly's liking).

4. That English tea. Yum. Double yum. Now anyone who hangs with me regularly knows that I love tea. Need tea to survive. Hot tea, cold tea. Just tea. I don't do coffee so tea is my caffeine hit to get me through the day. But, wow. The tea I had while in England???? It was like no other tea I've had. I brought 2 boxes home but I already fear the end of those teabags!!! So, yes, I love their tea habits and the respect they give tea. They do tea properly - with little cakes and lots of sugar. Mmmmmmmm. Now how do I get a steady IV drip of their tea going through my veins???

5. Their weather. Let's just say I didn't worry about getting a sunburn. And I'm always the one voted "Most Likely to Look Like the Lobster" whenever the sun is shining anywhere. There was not a good hair day in sight for the entire 7 days I was there. I have no idea how anyone ever looks good in England.

6. The food. Oh, the food. Was it really food? Or was it just white bread and mayonnaise? And little disgusting sausages and brown lumpy gravy? Holy crap...I couldn't eat a thing besides Corn Flakes with whole milk that I diluted with water. It was a really bad food sitch for poor lil' me. England doesn't like semi-vegetarians. At all. In fact, they throw bangers and mash at them and laugh while doing so...


I guess I could tell you more, but I don't want you to think that I disliked my trip. It was fun and new and exciting even though some things were scary and uncomfortable. It would have been more fun if Pauly wasn't working so much, but hey, that's why we were there in the first place. Zeke and I were our own little tourguides and discovered tons of things together. Over "dinner", we'd tell Pauly all about our day and what we had found. One thing I noticed that was enlightening: a 4-year-old is a wonderful travel companion. And even better, it was awesome to introduce him to a totally different country. He definitely noticed that things were different in the U.K., but assimiliated to the changes pretty quickly. He knew to ask for 20 pence for the gumball machines, remembered that the Eye of London was a major ferris-wheel type of landmark in London, and even made a little British friend while playing in a playground one afternoon. Even though she told him he talked funny, they seemed to get along fine and played for a while before saying goodbye. As they were leaving, little Layla told him to "have fun in America." Zeke told her bye and that "he liked her country." That made the trip completely worthwhile to me.

Am I reading her the wrong way???

Is it illegal or, well, just impolite to borrow a lot of books from the library? I mean, I really want to know what the protocol is on this particular matter. Because I seem to be having an issue with my local librarian. Here's the deal: each time we go to the library (which is about once every 10 days or so), we rent at least 10 or 15 books and magazines. Today, I ran over to the library by myself while my mom watched Zeke so that I could return some things and borrow a stack of magazines for a long plane trip we're about to take. Well, as I set the large stack on the counter and said "hi!", Ms. Mean Librarian Lady sighed and scanned my library card - WHICH DIDN'T CONTAIN ANY OVERDUE FEES!!!! She acted as if I were taking her own private stash of reading material from her own home! Is it not my tax dollars that pay for my local library services??? Am I not entitled to borrow as many books as I'd like??? Is there a law on the "books" about some type of limit that I'm not aware of??? Fill me in if you know something I don't. Because as for me, I'm gettin' the vibe that Ms. Mean Librarian Lady is p.o.'d that I have the April edition of Martha Stewart Living on loan. Whatevs.

It's my day....yeah.

Today is Mother's Day 2009. It's been a great day...thanks to Pauly and Zeke. I thought this weekend was going to be one of those weekends where I hit the ground running and never stopped until Sunday night, but thankfully it wasn't. Plans changed and I was able to take advantage of the unbelievable weather today and do something with my boys that I really, really enjoyed. We FINALLY attended the Willowdale Steeplechase. But before that, my day started out on a sour note - literally. Ya' see, recently I've been obsessed with fruit trees. I saw a few in my travels here and there, and I've just really had the urge to try to grow my own fruit. Specifically lemons. I love lemons and lemonade and would love to have fresh lemons growing on my own property. Well, this morning, Pauly surprised me with a gorgeous 5 foot tall lemon tree. Beautiful. I'm excited to nurture the tree until I can pick my first lemon and squeeze it into a tall glass of ice water!

After my lemon tree surprise, we got dressed and met Pauly's family at the King Street Grille in Malvern for breakfast. If you've never been to King Street...my oh my, you must go. And get the Blueberry Muffin French Toast. You'll never be the same. It's heaven on earth. If you go, tell Randy the chef that Pauly sent you - he'll get a chuckle out of that.

After our breakfast (which actually turned into lunch!), we headed straight for the Steeplechase. This was the highlight of my day along with my lemon tree. I guess I'm a simple girl if a few lemons and some racehorses make me see stars, huh??? But really, I couldn't have asked for a better day. The fact that we had time to see the horses racing around the Willowdale grounds made my weekend amazing. Hearing the pounding of the hooves, seeing the jockeys working the horses...it was all so great. The only thing that made it better was the fact that I had my boys with me and the weather was gorgeous.

Thanks guys for a great Mother's Day. And thanks Zeke for the super secret Mother's Day party at school on Friday. Although you're getting to be such a big boy, I think I'll always remember you like this:

You'll always be my little baby boy... happy, funny, smart, and the life of the party. Happy Mother's Day to me. Lucky, lucky me.

A special P.S. out to my mom: I'm not sure how you've done it all these years, but you've managed to keep me in line with all my dramas, plans, successes and failures. Thanks for always listening to the 9:00 a.m. rants and for the Thursday adventures. You're an awesome mama! Happy Mother's Day, Ter Ter!

Potty like a rockstar.

Plumbing. Even the word sounds gross. PLUMB-ing. Plumb. Like, who wants to plumb something? Ew. So, anyway, our upstairs plumbing in our master bath has "crapped the bed" as my brother Chris likes to put it so very eloquently. No more Band-Aids, no more quick fixes...it's time to do a complete overhaul and rip the entire bathroom out and start from scratch.

Ok, folks....cue the music: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

I have lived with this ridiculous powder blue nightmare for seven years. Seven. Count 'em. Seven. Oh my God. I tried paint. I thought of papering. I thought I'd "play up" the baby blue and accent it with artwork at one point. Holy s...., it wasn't happening. I gave up and just simply showered and well, ya' know, in the blue-ness. Eventually, I stopped looking at it and just did my "business". But today? Today I have OPTIONS!!!!!! It's a new day, people. And I'm thinking of tile, shower stalls, sinks, and yep, even toilets!!!! Who knew a toilet would be so darn awesome (other than when you realllllly have to go). So I leave you on this Mother's Day Eve with stars in my eyes and potties in my dreams. Bye, bye ol' blue. I'm heading for better things now.

Gray matter gone.

I lost a few more brain cells today. Why? Because I spent some time at Chuck E. Cheese. Now, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against "The Ratt" as we call it in our circle. But, I feel as though every time I sit in those booths and listen to the deafening buzzing all around me that my head is going to just pop right off like a Pez dispenser. Today I literally could see tiny portions of my brain left on the table as I packed up my gear to go home. That's how horribly sapped I feel whenever I go to Chuck E. Cheese. Sorry Chuckie. No hard feelings. Keep sending me coupons, ok?

Ew.

I've been very short tempered lately. Yesterday was the worst. Anyone who was with me for any amount of time yesterday KNOWS the deal (sorry girls). I was a stressed out maniac. And Chris (my brother) heard a full-on rant and rave on the phone. Sorry about that Chris. I think I just think about things too darn much. Note to self: think less...think less...think lessssssss. Sounds moronic, I know, but seriously, I tie myself up in knots reviewing detail after detail in my brain. Classic case of Virgo-itis. So, I'm going to let stuff go and continue to just be. But before I..am...here's what has me agitated today (if I may):

1. the rain (again)
2. the stupid swine flu and the fact that I have to be concerned about it as I get ready to travel abroad
3. commercial holidays and the ridiculous pressure they put on me to become a juggling act
4. the rain
5. my office area - it's such a mess that it's making my blood pressure rise and my heart palpitate. It will be clean by the end of today if I'm up at 11:59 pm completing the task.


That's it from 3's Companyville. Sorry to be such a downer, but, it just goes with the weather.

We were on vacation? What vacation?

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn. Back...from...."vacation". And, yes, I did say vacation very hesitantly. Why? Because we were in Disney. And Disney DOES NOT equal vacation when you're over eighteen. When you have exceeded your teenage years the equation becomes very, very different. It goes something like this:

Disney = plane trip with toddler + 10 lbs. of electronic games to keep toddler busy during plane trip + long lines in airport with cranky toddler who just wants to see Mickey + rushing to catch shuttle buses to hotel + long lines to check into hotel room + soothing a toddler who still just wants to see Mickey + rushing to catch another shuttle to get to park in same clothes you've been wearing since 4 a.m. because there's no time to change + long lines to have your 20 lb. backpack (that you've expertly jammed 35 lbs. of necessities into JUST RIGHT) be ripped apart by security as you enter the park while your toddler jumps up and down because he sees pictures of Mickey who he just wants to see in person + walking for 8 more hours through the park to stand in lines to get on rides that bring you just to the point of vomitus maximus + dining on chicken fingers and french fries that your toddler thinks is gourmet and you think is going to send you straight to your primary care doc for some heavy doses of Lipitor + carrying a camera and video camera around every single moment of every single day because all of this mayhem and madness ultimately and eventually alllll equals one very fine result.....the absolute time of our lives. Thanks Disney. You made Zeke's 4th birthday pretty awesome.

Can't....think....straight.

I'm finding that the more I have to do, the less I'm getting done. Not good. Focus, Nancy, focus. I think I used to be really good at juggling a thousand things at once. Not so much anymore for some reason. I think it's the fact that every 5 to 7 minutes someone calls out "Mommy!" and I'm supposed to react. It tends to break one's train of thought. Where was I..

Gotta run, gotta work.

This weekend has been nice. The three of us spent time in the yard on Saturday since it was such gorgeous weather and we planted some pretty flowers. Pauly decided to work on "the hole" (ugh...it's a project he's been OBSESSED with for the past 18 months, no lie. It was a sinkhole that started smallish, then grew to be about 3 feet deep and about 5 feet wide. Apparently years ago when our house was built, the ground wasn't packed firmly enough. But I digress...) So, as Pauly continued to fill "the hole", Zeke and I enjoyed the sun, played with the pups, and put in some nice new Marigolds.

On Sunday we took a trip to Longwood Gardens to take part in the kite flying festival. Zeke made a kite in the Longwood tent, then flew it on their beautiful grounds. It was fun to see him running through the field with about 5,000 other kids trying to get their kites up into the air too.

So now I return home and realize that, yep, a mountain of laundry still awaits me. It haunts me. It's always there no matter how far I run. So, I loaded up both the washer and dryer this evening and I'm making a go at it. I sorta' HAVE to since we're leaving for our first of 3 summer trips at the end of this week. I need clean clothes to pack! I have a feeling this week is going to be all work, no play...but come this weekend...WOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOO! We're off to see Mickey! Maybe I'll blog live and in person while I'm in Mickey's hood, but I kind of doubt it. I foresee tons of running around, sunscreen re-application, and exhaustion...in a major way. But hey, your kid only turns 4 once, right???

Here's to a productive week...

Eleven, Baby!!!!

Today I've been married for 11 years. To be honest, way back when, I never even thought I could BE married. Couldn't fathom the idea. Life was fun being on my own, having a career, a condo, and a cool car. Then I saw Pauly in a library. I asked my friend who he was, told my friend to introduce me, and the rest is history. Funny how 11 years later everything is so different. I now have a much different, ummm, "career" (a.k.a.: trying to grow a boy into a man), a house that always cries out for attention, and an SUV instead of a convertible. Add to the mix various and sundry pets and well, the brew I've got on my "life stove" is bubbling over at times. But ya' know what? Amidst all the skinned knees, bumped heads, barking, chirping, stain removal, 30-minute-meals, preschool woes, butt-wiping (yeah, Zeke still hasn't gotten it down..), grocery shopping, storybook reading, handwriting lessons, manner reminders, and most of all, kisses/hugs/"I Love You's"....I've learned that life is so much more than a universe centered around me. I'm a small part of a big thing here. And what I've got to do is tread gently, love unconditionally, stay humble, and trust God. Mostly, I need to give my son the tools to do the same. And today, more than most days, I'm happy I'm doing all of that with Pauly by my side. Happy anniversary Pauly. I love you.

Egg Dyeing at it's Finest

Today was one of those days that you're just plain ol' happy you have certain people in your life. I love these types of days. And here's why: I took Zeke up to Doylestown with me to my old college roommate's house so we could dye Easter eggs together. Now, not in a million years, would Eileen and I have EVER thought 20 years ago that we'd be dying Easter eggs together with our sons on a Friday evening...I think we probably would have thought our Friday evenings would have consisted of a bit more adult entertainment. But, alas, Big Ei and I have definitely lost some of the "wow factor" from our weekends now that the big night out is to dye Easter eggs with the kiddos. No biggie, we did really have fun catching up, letting the kids play, and simply just chatting about life in general. One thing I've learned about Big Ei...no matter how much time passes since the last time I've seen her, I feel like I can mesh right on in with our friendship wherever we left off. That, I believe, is the true test of a lifetime friendship. So, sorry to tell ya' Big Ei....you're stuck with me forever girlie! I had too much fun seeing you and your crew today and Zeke is already telling me he'll "try harder to be good" the next time (HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!). So, thanks for the fun, for the company, and for the fab egg dyeing. Even tho Sophie's eggs kinda' blew ours outta' the water, I think the boys' all looked pretty darned good. I think we should make this a new tradition - eggs at Ei's every year!!!

So, as we end this day, we have gorgeous gem colored hard boiled eggs ready to fill Zeke's Easter basket that'll be waiting for the Easter Bunny tommorrow night! We're getting pretty excited! Here's hoping everyone gets a visit from the Big Bunny!!! Good Luck!

No hunting allowed.

Easter egg hunts are terrifying. And I'm not alone in my horror. As we were standing along the perimeter of what looked like a sea full of gems (it was actually a huge lawn full of plastic Easter eggs), my heart was racing. The countdown was about to begin and Zeke was ready to run and gather all the eggs he could in about 10 seconds flat. Now, why, tell me, would I be nervous at an Easter egg hunt??? I kept asking myself that and silently telling myself how ridiculous I was for feeling anxious about what was about to commence. UNTIL....one of the moms to my left spoke up. It was like we were at at EEHA Meeting - Easter Egg Hunters Anonymous if you aren't catching my drift. She did it. She spoke of her husband's childhood trauma and lifted the cloud of darkness that I think all of us were secretly carrying for so long. Apparently, when her hubby was a child at an Easter egg hunt he was terrorized. He waited through the countdown, ran out onto that huge egg-covered field, swiftly gathered the coveted eggs in his basket as fast as his tiny hands could grab them, when suddenly the unthinkable happened....his basket tipped and all of his eggs flew out. Someone swooped in, took all of his eggs and he was left with nothing. This woman said that to this very day, her husband HATES Easter egg hunts and funny enough, he was quite obviously absent from the day's events. She said he has nightmares about losing his eggs and repeatedly trying to get them all back into his basket. CAN YOU IMAGINE???? This is what I say: Easter egg hunts are too stressful. It's too much build up for too short of an event. It's far worse than, say, a wedding. At least a wedding lasts a few hours! But to get all psyched up for something that lasts 10 seconds???? I don't see the point. That's just not funny, bunny.

And how was your day?

Yesterday was a crazy day. I saw rainbows and 6 foot tall hot dogs in drive thrus. I attempted to do laundry, failed, and decided that baking (burning) a batch of Pauly's favorite brownies would be a better option. I attended a school book fair, shopped in a dollar store for all things Sponge Bob, bought live clams against my better judgment, and decided I was going to really try to let my nails grow longer. I finalized our Disney World trip and researched a trip to Arizona, I paid bills online and Facebooked a bit. I downloaded pictures of Zeke and his friends and spent the next 10 minutes crying as I studied his baby pictures on my computer - boy, how time flies when you have a child. I thought about getting a spray tan but none of my friends would go with me (and for some reason, I just won't go alone) and I made plans with Eileen to dye Easter eggs next Friday. I counted down the minutes until Pauly came home from his business trip and I played Zingo about 3 or 4 times with Zeke. I learned that you can play Zingo with a 3 year old and look fully engaged while simultaneously daydream about what kind of car you want to get next.

Who said life as a stay at home mom was boring?

F-f-f-fooolin.

I like April Fool's Day. For one, it's my mom's birthday. What a cool birthday, don't you think? Not to mention, she's a bit on the funny/foolish side, so it fits her personality (no offense, momsy - you know you're goofy...). And April Fool's Day is a great day to pull out my hidden acting abilities on Pauly. Last year, I played the old "I lost The King (Otto the chihuahua) and I've been searching the neighborhood for hours now...". I had Pauly going for a good five minutes until The King barked in the background and Pauly hung up on me. It was great. This year I wasn't prepared. For mom's birthday or for a great prank. I think having lost a lung in The Great Weekend Puking Incident put a damper on the awesomeness of the day. So, instead, Zeke and I spent the day with friends, then headed down to my mom's for a quiet dinner.

Happy Birthday Mom!!! You little April Fool!

Down with the sickness.

Sick. That's how it's been around here lately. Just sick. Like disgusting, rumbling, tumbling belly sick. And it's been going on for too long. First it was Zeke, then me. I'm reallllllly hoping it's goes right past Pauly and out of this house for good. Today's the first day I'm feeling like the real-deal Nancy again...with some minor adjustments. For one: I'm not real jazzed up about food yet. I can only get down about 1/4 of my usual amounts of food (no comments from all you smart-a's out there.....), and I still feel some slight stomach terror once I do finally eat. But honestly, anything is better than the weekend I just had. Puking until dry heaving? It puts a big damper on a weekend with a quickness. But...that's in the past and today made me feel like all this HORRIBLE winter weather/sickness/boredom/madness has finally lifted. What a great springy day it was and what a nice way Zeke and I spent it - with a bunch of friends at the park in the sunshine! Here's to many more days like today!!!

Green around the gills.

It's day 6 of the stomach bug. Zeke is improving - I'd say he's about 80% - but I swear the smell of vomit is permanently stuck in my nose. In turn, it's making me feel nauseated. I've been playing head games with myself all week - do I feel sick? Is my stomach feeling strange or is it just my imagination? I just got off the treadmill and I feel like a truck ran me over. I certainly don't feel the "exercise high" all those whack job gym people speak of. Just the opposite - I feel like I should have skipped that workout altogether. So, here's my plan: I'm going down to the basement to clean up some toys, scrub a spot on the carpet where I swear I can STILL smell puke, vacuum everything down there, then it's ME time. I'm headed to bed to settle in and watch American Idol. As for Pauly and Zeke: they can join me or they can play Wii in the basement. I just don't feel like Wii'ing tonight...

Vomitus Maximus

"I want mac and cheese. I want Chinese food. I want noodles with butter sauce. I'm really, really thirsty...may I have some more water? No, make that orange Juicy Juice. Or maybe Lemonade. Now I want a bagel and cream cheese. "

That's all I've been hearing for the past 8 hours. And every time I give Zeke a tiny scoop of whatever he's craving...he pukes it up. You see, he has this remarkable way of making it seem like he's on a fantastic rebound from the horrible stomach flu he's been dealing with since Friday. One minute he's vomiting up a kidney, the next, he's ready for a pizza with extra cheese. And each time, I admit it, I'm hoodwinked. I think we've hit the end and the flu is gone. But then he eats a bit...and kaaaabaaaam - up it comes. And somehow the force with which it comes up makes it dreadfully hard for me to escape it's route. Yep, I've been splattered with puke many times in the past 72 hours. Ew. The smell is what gets me, I think. I can deal with a lot - dog puke/poop/hairballs. Kid doodie/vomit/dirt...but the smell - OMG, it gets me. It's rotten. Like, seriously rotten. But how can it be?? That which is being puked only went down about 10 minutes prior. It's an enigma. Maybe when this stomach flu has left our home I'll take an advanced physiology course just to find out how Gatorade goes down into the belly, gets regurgitated 5 to 7 minutes later, only to smell like 3 week old milk that's been basking in the Arizona sun...

Rolling down the highway, veggies under my seat.

I try to stay ahead of stuff around here, I really do. And because of that, some things get pushed to the bottom of the priority list. Take for instance, my car. With the weather being so cold and with us all spending so much more time indoors lately, my car has had little to no attention paid to it. First of all, if I'm going to be in my house more, I want it clean. And secondly, if it's supercold outside, I'm sure as heck not going to be out there freezing my fingers off trying to clean the car. Sorry, it just doesn't rank up there. But yesterday, the car lucked out. The house was clean, laundry was, well, whatever...and it was nice out!!! I was suddenly motivated to finally clean out the dumpster I'd been driving. Here's what I found as I pried further into the pits of hell or, rather, Zeke's area:

Now, let's dissect this picture carefully. I know, it's a bit tough to see what's going on here, but let me describe the madness. What you're looking at is the underneath part of Zeke's seat. And yes, that red card with the heart...that's a Valentine that never got opened because it was swallowed up by the abyss. Sorry Anna - it was a really cute Valentine too. Can you see the Nerds, the loose change, the lonely potato chip (sour cream & onion because that's all Zeke will eat), and most appealing...the pretzel salt mixed with hair???? Even better were the 4 petrified baby carrots that I found under MY seat that happened their way there. I guess I'm no innocent in this story either. One good thing: I found a Nintendo DS game that Zeke has been searching for since January, one of my awesome MAC makeup brushes, a nice Burt's Bees lip balm, and about $23 in loose change. Here's the bummer part of it all: it's only about 26 hours post cleanup and I'd say if you were really, really hungry and had nothing at all to eat, you'd already be able to find a small meal lying in the dark corners of my car. That's just how Zeke and I roll these days.

Strange but true. But why?

Ok, so I know it's pretty difficult to see in this picture...but look very, very carefully. Do you see the teeny tiny little chihuahua above? Yep, I know he's stunning. Aside from that, check out his paws. I know, I know...there's nothing really too abnormal or super-duper about them. They're just typical chi-chi paws. Tiny and cute. But here's the deal: they're now referred to as taco bells in my house. And, no, not Taco Bells but taco bells. You see, they're not related to that disgusting taco chain...they're just taco bells. Chihuahua feet are taco bells for some reason. At least according to Zeke. And if I pry into this taco bell situation, Zeke gets very agitated. Agitated as if I should know all about taco bells and it's a waste of his time to have to go over and over it with me. Bizarre.

Add to the Bizarro List:

-Zeke was waiting at the deli counter with me today and proceeded to sit on a bag of rolls that was on a shelf in front of the counter. I immediately told him to get up before he squished the rolls. He told me he couldn't because he was hatching the rolls. ??????????

-Another anatomical anomaly: when you point to the bridge of Zeke's nose and ask him what it is he'll tell you it's his roots. Please don't ask me how this all happened. I'm trying my hardest here, folks. I really, really am.

Seems like yesterday.

I've been nostalgic the past few days. I think it's because of all this Facebook junk. Facebook is crazy. It has connected me with friends I knew back when I was literally in first grade. And just a day ago, one of the nicest girls I hung around with all through grade school had her first baby. I found out via Facebook and I was so happy to have gotten the information. Congratulations Kelly and Baby Tessa!!! But since then, I've been thinking about babies. Babies, babies, babies. And more babies. Now, I don't really want another baby, but I do sort of miss all the baby stuff. I miss packing a diaper bag. I used to LOVE packing my diaper bag for some reason. I'd pack and re-pack it every single night. I guess my love of bags extended to the diaper bag family. But yes, my diaper bag was prepared for any mishap Zeke could have brought my way. I think he and I could have survived a combo diaper blowout/nuclear attack with all of the goodies I carried with me each day. Preparedness was the name of my game.

But now, alas, my bag now is simple a purse, albeit a large one, and all I need as far as essentials is some Purell, tissues, and Nintendo DS. A 3-1/2 year old doesn't require much as far as "essentials" go. My friends will tell you though, I still over pack. If you search my purse you'll also find a first aid kit, children's motrin, baby wipes, a toy motorcycle, and the emergency candy stash. What can I say, I still like to do the "diaper bag" thing...

So, in the spirit of walking down memory lane, I searched my old pix and found this one of Pregnant Nancy. Now remember, I HATED being pregnant. I was a horrible pregnant girl and was miserable the whole time. I think this picture captured the one and only night I actually had a fun time being pregnant. So, thanks Penn Ladies! You guys rock. Do you guys remember this party??? Memories, huh???

Get the bird and run.

This week was Pet Week at Zeke's school. Oh my. Now we're talking. By now, Zeke's teacher knows I'm a "pet person" and has bonded with me over one or two furry friend stories. You see, she's a...gulp...HORSE OWNER!!! jfasdopbniopaertnjaop!!!!!! God knows I'm ready for a few tea parties at her house. So anyway, Teacher Michele had the SPCA visit Zeke's class this week with a few adoptable pets for the children to meet. In addition to the SPCA visit, Teacher Michele wanted the next best thing to visit the school - a representative from the Zeke Zoo. No problem I said. Would she like a furry or feathered friend I inquired. She chose a feathered friend, so yesterday I obliged. Wow was that a massacre. It started out easy enough. I transferred the new bird, Stuart, into a small cage and tucked him into my SUV. He wasn't quite sure where we were going, which I later found out was quite to his benefit. Upon arriving at the school, I signed into the visitor's log and headed down to Zeke's classroom. As I opened the preschool door, it got prehistoric. Tots came running from all corners of the room. The snack time that they were enjoying was forgotten, yet still clinging to their dirty, sticky fingers as they poked and prodded at Stuart's little cage. (The worst part??? My Dooney & Bourke purse was getting ALLLL kinds of nastiness on it from the greasy popcorn they were all eating! Not too cool, lil' guys.) I tried to hold the cage above their reach, but the weight of 10 preschoolers was pulling me down into their makeshift mosh pit. I felt myself starting to fall into them, when finally the teachers wrestled the mob to the ground. I gathered myself, straightened my hair and Stuart's feathers, checked the lipstick, and proceeded to circle time where Stewie and I were the center of attention. After a brief speech about the care of tiny Stu, the class was supposed to line up one-by-one to come up and take a "close look" at Stuart. Then the Big Fakeout happened. Yeah, they lined up. Yeah, they started to come up one by one. Then suddenly it turned ugly. It was an angry mob of preschoolers on Pop Rocks and Coca-Cola. They hit, they shoved, and I actually saw one little girl reach for the EYES of another little boy. She literally wanted to claw his eyes out - and in a Quaker School!!!! All for the love of Stuart. It was then that I realized I had to grab my bird, my bag and go...and not necessarily in that order if you know how much I treasure my purses.

So, as Pet Week comes to an end and I look back upon the beauty of the lessons taught to my son this week, I reflect upon what I've taken away from it all: when facing a classroom of preschoolers, wear protective gear and carry an old purse. Oh, and also, if you are lonely and can provide a loving home, don't forget to check out your local shelter - there's tons of love waiting to be adopted. That's how we found this special guy:

But I can't help falling in love with yooouuuuu.

I'm a sucker. A real sucker. I fall in love so easily. And I'm always the one who does all the work in these type of relationships. Take today for instance. I just ran into the store to pick up a few things. And there HE was. He was very handsome. Just sitting there with his friends, a little on the shy side, but confident nonetheless. I go for the strong but silent type, I guess you could say. I kept to myself for a while, pretending to shop, looking down the aisles, then peeking back up at him every now and then. Every time I looked up, our eyes met. I blushed, but he just cackled a bit under his breath...he knew he had me. He knew he'd be sleeping under my roof tonight. So, low and behold, here he is folks, the newest man in my life. Let me introduce the extremely handsome, smart, and pretty damn sexy....Stuart Kane:

Welcome to the Kane Zoo, Stuart. You'll be happy with all of our furry and feathered friends. You sexy man, you.

I wonder if Pauly knows yet...