My lucky day

Yesterday, as I was cleaning my car, I found a grand total of $1.61. It may be nothing to Chris' inheritance , but It was a buck sixty-one that I didn't have before and now it is burning a hole in my pocket. With that kind of cash I could:




Buy a satisfying lunch packed with vitamins and consisting of either a hamburger, a taco or fries.










Enjoy the relative silence for a minute and thirty seconds as Emily rides the super overpriced mechanical horse at WalMart.






Eat 3 packs of M&M's in one sitting - by myself. In the dark. Because I would be ashamed and also because I wouldn't want to share.











Drive 10 miles with no destination in mind while singing along to Journey.





These are all definitely strong options, but I don't want to blow my wad before I've thought it through. Anyone else have any ideas?

The Good Old Days

When Emily was a newborn and had the worst case of colic known to man, I was out of my mind. I was exhausted and constantly clinging to the very tail end of my rope. At that time, a few parents actually said to me, "Just wait until she's two and starts throwing tantrums and asking questions constantly. Then you'll long for these days". At the time, those comments engendered such a feeling of hopelessness that I wondered why anybody would have children. Now I know better.

Emily is finally two and I can at last definitively say I long for those days about as much as Nelson Mandela wishes he was back in prison.

The tantrums are not fun, but they are brief and are improving over time. They are more than offset by the range of emotions that wasn't there two years ago. At the beginning, there was only mad and asleep. Now happiness, boredom, curiosity, remorse, playfulness and a slew of other emotions have joined the mix.

As for the questions, they have been coming for about six months now and although I am not always able to give a satisfactory answer, I must say that I love being constantly asked, "What is that?" or "What's that sound?". I love the awakening that is taking place every day. With the awakening comes communication I would have never dreamed possible a year ago. I can answer her questions. I can explain rules to her. I can calm her down by talking to her and (my favorite) I can bribe her to be good.



This whole experience has left me wishing that children came into the world as toddlers rather than infants. It has also left me with a great deal of doubt when those same parents who told me I would hate the toddler years tell me how bad teenagers are. Something tells me I will never again wish for colic. And there is a great deal of comfort in that.

Now... let's just hope that the parents who tell me the second one is always more mellow are right.

A Tribute

Six years ago, I was newly married, had recently graduated from college and I was very, very fat. After I got married, I had done a lot of cooking and it showed. I had also lost access to Half Acre Gym which meant that on cold days I got a lousy workout, if I even got one at all. When I turned 23, I told anyone who asked that I wanted money for my birthday - money that would help me buy a treadmill. I got a cheap treadmill (top picture) and was amazed at the difference it made. I could run even on the snowiest of days.

Since then, I have lost 45 pounds, moved twice, had a child, recovered from a stress fracture and through it all have been able to run longer and feel better thanks to my treadmill. When you pay $400 for a treadmill, you don't expect it to last long, but I figure this one has in excess of 5000 miles on it. It has been through a few repairs and has continued to work so that I could continue to run.

Last week, my treadmill started making a new noise. It has always squeaked, but this was a grinding noise. I asked Chris to take a look. He determined it could be saved, but it would cost over half of the original purchase price. I knew it was time to say goodbye to my old friend. Last Friday, I took it for one last run. It made its horrible grinding noise on and off, but it held up like a champion. I think it knew it was the last time.

It was sad to say goodbye, but once we got the new treadmill set up on Saturday (bottom picture), I could clearly see that home exercise equipment has come a long way in the last 6 years. It is quiet, smooth and beautiful. Still, there is some emotional attachment to my first treadmill - kind of like a first car. Thanks for going the miles with me, old friend.

Punk Kids

If I ever had anything in common with teenagers, I no longer do. I started to come to this realization when Chris and I were in the movie theater a few weeks ago. A few minutes into the previews, two teenage girls plopped down right next to me and started whispering and texting. After a prolonged conversation, they decided their diets could tolerate some popcorn and so they asked me if I would save their seats while they visited the concessions stand.

"Ahh... Nope", I said, smiling politely. Why would I want to save the seats of two girls who were ruining my evening? I would rather take my chances with the next latecomer.

The girl stared at me dumbfounded, "No? Seriously? You won't save our seats?".

"No, seriously".

They didn't know how to respond, so they left without another word. We moved down a couple rows and from there on out enjoyed the movie.

Last week, I had another run in that made me realize that I could probably never make it as a high school teacher. At least not teaching the dumb kids.


A few friends and I decided to arrange a play date at a local park. As soon as I arrived, I noticed several teenagers (who were supposed to be in school at the time) playing on equipment intended for the preschool and grade school crowd. We tried to ignore them, but as soon as lunchtime began at the nearby high school, the crowd multiplied to dozens of teenagers, squeezing our small children out of the park. When they started smoking and talking at the tops of their voices about things that shouldn't even be mentioned in whispers, I knew that it was time to go.

I left feeling old. Had I really changed so much in a decade? After a bit of thinking, I realized that I hadn't changed. I never liked kids like that. I had always given them dirty looks and the occasional verbal reprimand - even when I was their age. I'm not old - just reasonable.

Now my greatest fear is sending my little girl out into a world where kids behave like that. Maybe when she turns 12, I'll order up some brochures for one of those bad kid boot camps. That way I'll have something to scare her with if she ever comes home with hoop earrings that touch her shoulders and a midriff bearing shirt.

A Wild Week

This week was very busy. On Monday we went to the zoo as sort of an early birthday present for Emily. She had a great time. We were so excited to show her the elephants and bears and lions she sees in her books, but all she has been able to talk about was the peacock. Maybe next time, we will just go to the pet store and tell her we're at the zoo. I'm sure she will be fascinated with the finches.






Wednesday my parents came to town and the two day birthday celebration extravaganza began. As you can see, we put Emily's safety first. Birthday injuries are the #12 cause of visits to emergency rooms so we made sure Emily wore her helmet the entire time.







Thursday was the birthday proper and I, being the lazy mom I am, decided we should just have a casual celebration with friends. And cake. Lots of cake. Emily didn't seem to mind at all that her birthday party didn't include a bouncy house or a visit from Cinderella. All a 2 year old really needs are good friends and good cake.

What is your name? What is your quest? What is your favorite color?

As both my blogfans know, I use my blog to keep in touch with friends and family. I have an unlisted blog because I want to use real names and post real pictures of my family, knowing that some Canadian child molester isn't tuning in.

That having been said, you can understand my concern when someone commented on my blog last week and left only a first name that wasn't connected to a profile. David, you know who you are, but I don't. I am pretty sure you are a friend, but I just want assurance that my address didn't end up on a website targeted at gay inmates. So, just to indulge me, could you maybe leave me another comment with some clue as to who you are so I can make sure you aren't commenting from prison?

Please feel free to share my blog address with anyone who might be interested, but do use discretion. I would like this to continue to be a safe place to update my friends and family on the happenings of my life.

What I Want for Mother's Day

I am fairly new to Mother's day, but so far my experience hasn't been great. Two years ago, I went into labor on Mother's day. Last Mother's Day, Emily had a mystery illness that involved a high fever and digestive difficulties. This year is shaping up to be no better. For the past two days, Emily has been stricken with the stomach flu and since I have spent almost that entire time cleaning up after all the stomach flu involves, I fear the hammer will drop on me soon. So, with that background information out of the way, here is what I really want for Mother's Day.

1) I want to be able to get Emily up in the morning without having to strip her down where she stands, rush her to the shower and throw the entire contents of her crib into a washing machine that contains almost as much bleach as it does water.

2) I want to go an entire day without being puked on.

3) I want to go an entire day without saying the word "puke".

4) I want to prepare a meal where all the food doesn't have to qualify as bland and binding.

5) I want all that which belongs in the diaper to cleave unto the diaper.

6) Lastly, I would like a new car that fits a stroller and groceries. Since every item on my list is totally unrealistic, I figured I might as well throw that one in.

Happy Mother's Day, everyone. And just in case you think motherhood is without its rewards, here is a picture of what I get to hang out with every day:

Now, I think that's worth all the puke clean up in the world.