Imitation of Life

One night, my son decided to pretend to be mommy.

He fed his baby.

He put his baby on the "bed" (the couch) and tucked it in (literally, better than I have ever done...I don't think the baby could have moved even if it were animated).

He gave his baby a kiss, and told his baby to call for "mommy" if his baby needed anything and "mommy" would come.


I cannot even begin to tell you what it means to me to have him imitate his mommy in this way. I hope he has so much more of these memories ingrained in him and that he knows his mommy loves him so.

Quotes

My son says (from the movie Cars)...

"I'm so not taking you dinner!"

But he adds...

"Lunch is good."

The Day After

We walk into our house. Toys are covering the living room floor from earlier play.

My son says "Look at this mess!"

I ask, "What should we do about it?"

He replies, "Not clean up!"

About Molten Chocolate Lava Cake

You know them as "Simple Abundances", "Beautiful Things", and "Gratitudes". I'm talking about those little special moments that make life wonderful, moments that put the icing on the cake.

But I wanted my own catch phrase.

I thought of Daily Joys. Simple Joys. Precious Moments. And a slew of other words in that ilk.

Somehow none seemed quite appropriate.

So I started thinking back to the icing on the cake. I'm not a big fan of icing. In fact, I usually scrap it off. What I love is the chocolate that oozes out of a cake. Warm dark rich chocolate to enhance the cake and accompanying ice cream.

Remember "Life is like a box of chocolate?"

Well, life offers much more if we choose to search for it. Molten Chocolate Lava Cake is my contribution to the touchy feely feel good moments that I want to remember and share with you.


Molten Chocolate Lava Cake
December 22, 2006

My son kissing my hand and saying "Mom, I love you."

Seeing our regular postman back at work after knee surgery and being able to give him his Christmas gifts of homebaked desserts.

Watching my son enjoy his new Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer and Abominable Snowman Musical Snow Globe (and laughing at my husband as he wished we could have tried it out before we bought it...so annoyingly loud for anyone over 8).

Watching my dog enjoy the warmth of the fireplace.

Leonardo Da Boy-ci

A few days ago we went shopping for my son's Christmas presents. Since he is still young enough to believe what we tell him, he came along. We picked out "My First Kenmore" items, a vacuum and a toaster for him. He was told that the gifts were for his cousin.

Poor baby. He cried.

He really really wants the vacuum and toaster.

I think he will be very excited on Christmas day. His gifts also include: microwave oven, chef's hat/oven mitts/apron, stove/sink, pots/utensils.

We encourage all his interests, so he also is getting Tonka construction vehicles, monster truck, paddles and baseball & bat.

What a Renaissance boy!

An Upcoming New Year and a New Day

I heartily apologize to my readers. Yes! I have been lax at my writing! I used the excuse of the holidays and hustle and bustle. A good excuse, many would agree. But, I thought about it last night. And it is not a good excuse for me.

Why?

If I have no thoughts, nothing to write about, no observations, then I am being swept away in daily life. I am neither taking the time to smell the roses or enjoying all those little things which makes my life so beautiful.

I am not savoring moments and preserving them into memories.

So, here I am. Back to my fighting form, my writing form. Ka-chow!

eyh am bihting mah tuhng

I'm just going to take a few lines from Forrest, Jenny, and momma. I think they can say it best. If you know me, I won't need to preface this anymore. If you don't, too bad, so sad.

My Mama always said you've got to put the past behind you before you can move on.

What's normal anyways?

You have to do the best with what God gave you.

That's all I have to say about that.

Is it Saturday?

One of the most important answers lies in the question "Is it Saturday?"

We have been rewarding him for potty training. We have gradually been spacing out the times he gets his reward. So now, he gets a new special toy for going "shi shi" but new toys are given only on Saturdays.

So, it is very important to know "Is it Saturday?"

Fishing for more than Shrimp

I had lunch today at Bubba Gump Shrimp. No, I did not have shrimp. I was in the mood for a burger. So yes, I had a cheeseburger at Bubba Gump's. But that's not the point of this story.

The waitress, after we have been there for a while, asks me if I am running in the upcoming Honolulu Marathon.

Me?

Are you talking to me?

ME! I say no, and she says she just wondered because she is running in the marathon and I looked in shape. She thought I looked like someone who would run marathons.

WOOHOOOOOO!!!!!!! Can someone give me a HOT DAMN?!!


Needless to say, she got a great tip!

Are you ???

An old family friend came to dinner. She hadn't seen me since high school so her image of me has always been of a thin person (she completely missed seeing me in the fat years).

She happened to see a photo of me from my sister's wedding in 2004.

She says, this must have been when you were pregnant. Um....no. Much after.

Oops!

Merry Christmas

My son loves Christmas.

He loves the Christmas lights. He loves Christmas trees. He loves the decorations. He loves Santa. He loves the Christmas trains.

He loves the ringing of bells. He loves giving coins to the Salvation Army volunteers. (He even asked if they were ringing the bells just for him.)

He loves Christmas songs. He loves snowmen and snow globes.

He loves all those things. For him, Christmas does not equal presents. Christmas is wonderful and exciting, magical and beautiful.

And so is he.

Boy and his Cars

So the movie "Cars" is a big hit in my home. My son is absorbing new words and phrases from the movie like a little sponge.

Here are a few of his favorites:

"Life is a highway. I wanna drive it all night long. Wooooooooh!"

"Ka-Chow!"

"I'm so NOT taking you out to dinner."

"Boy, you in a heap of trouble."

"No, no, no, no...no tires, just gas."

"Focus, Focus"

"Speed. I am speed."



And his parents' least favorite that we are trying to get him to stop saying...

"Comprendo?"

Duh Mom!

I try to monitor what my son watches on television. I find that even shows that are labeled for kids are not necessarily the shows I want him to see. I make sure I explain to him the images he is seeing so that he won't be frightened or upset. I say things like "that's not real". And "it is pretend."

My son enjoys having me with him, wants to make sure I am watching with him, especially the scenes he loves. This evening we were watching Disney's Cars movie (for the upteenth time). I know how important it is to him that I watch. So I try to get all revved up too so he would feel like I was huge fan too (which I am 'cause it is a great movie), partners.

I ooooh'd and aaaaah'd my ass off during the racing scenes. Even added some whoa's and moans and groans in there. I guess I was too good.

My son turns to me and says, "it's only a movie."

Flied Lice

Let me set the premise for this one...

My mom is from Thailand.
So is one of her friend.
Both have accents.
They were going to play golf today.
So mom made sure to ask dad to pack mom some foods to snack on for her day at the course.

Mom came home 6 hours later and asks me, "what is the name of the club that you use to hit the golf ball out of the sand with?"
I say, "sand wedge".
Then mom starts laughing.

This is what happened on the golf course:

Mom's friend: "Pass me the sand wedge."
Mom: "I don't have any sandwiches. Only eggs."

Homecoming Story

Once upon a time a girl got fat. She got married, got fatter, had a baby, and got even fatter.

Then she found Weight Watchers and Bootcamp Buddies. She worked hard. And she once again could see... she could see her feet and the space between her legs. She even saw her own muscle definition without straining. She was pleased, very very pleased.

Then, she went home.

Somehow coming home for me is such an enlightening experience.

I came home minus 30 pounds of excess body weight. I was looking forward to finally not hearing "Look at the size of your arms" and "You need to lose some weight".

But instead of the usual "You're too fat", I got "You're too skinny." Not "You're too skinny" kidding/ha ha/fun type of comments. Serious "You're too skinny" comments from family and family friends.

Which is weird since skinny was a word that would have last been appropriate for me at age 8.

So it reaffirms my belief...I cannot please everyone so I should try to please me more often.

And I am pleased with me.

So deal.

The end.

The Important Question

Remember my son and his questions? Teaching me to be a better writer? Okay, you have to travel way way back to the earlier blogs if you forgot (JINNER!).

Well, here we are in Hawaii visiting the folks, and my son has been asking the same question for the past 2 days.

I happen to love his questions. At least the first 10 times I hear it. And I've learned not take his questions lightly. This one is by far my favorite.

So I put it to you.

"Are you happy?"

Pre co cious

Several people have referred to my son as being precocious.

Precocious. Pre*co*cious.

What the hell?! How dare you?!

Oh. I see. It's not a bad word?

Precocious.

1. mentally advanced for age: developed or mature, especially mentally, at an unusually early age, or showing such advanced development

I think he seems precocious because he is taught our family has rules, rules like manners and being polite. We have certain expectations of him and his behavior. There is a time and place for everything, playtime and serious time. He is taught to put away things that aren't being played with, to clean up messes. He refers to adults as "miss" and "mister". He uses "please" and "excuse me". He is taught there are consequences to his actions.

Precocious? Not sure I agree.

Precious? Infinitely.

Making the Connection 2

My son has a great imagination. One of the things he likes to do is to pretend he is a toy. His favorite is to be the toy that when you push his button (belly) he turns on and starts singing "Jingle Bells."

So the other day...

"Mommy, turn me on."

Okay. I go to push his belly "button."

"No. Not like that," he says waving his hand in front of his body.

I am puzzled. He keeps waving his hand in front of himself.

AHHHH! The light bulb in my head goes off.

"Are you a motion sensor toy?"

Yes!!!

Making the Connection 1

I was driving the car with my father-in-law in the front seat and my son and husband in the back seat. I just finished making a turn when I hear my son's voice talking to me.

"Mom?"

"Yes, babe?"

"I woad."

"You road?"

"No. I just woad."

Part of my job as mommy is to make sense of it all. So I thought for a moment. Woad. Not road. Rewind what had just happened. Oh! He said "Whoa" as I made the turn.

He whoa-ed!

Commitment

When I got married, I made a commitment to my husband.

Through the years, I've had to stop wearing my wedding rings for a time, and eventually I had my rings enlarged.

A few days ago, I made another commitment.

I finally had my rings resized. Smaller.

I made a commitment. Not to him this time. But to me.

The Diplomatic Doctor

Yesterday, my husband and I went back to his surgeon for a check up and to get the stitches out. My husband had been raring at the bit, somewhat stir-crazy, eager to return to work. He wanted to go back on Monday.

I'm thinking he is crazy.

He can barely tolerate riding in the car for 10 minutes. How is he going to drive himself to work (which is a much longer commute) and work 8 hours?

So he brings up the subject with his doctor since the doctor must clear his return to work.

God bless his doctor!!

The doctor is like... "Yeaaah, you coooooould go back to work. It's up to you. What about after Thanksgiving?"

I was like giggling inside because I heard exactly what he was saying..."Yeaaah, you IDIOT you coooooould go back to work IDIOT. It's up to you IDIOT. What about after Thanksgiving IDIOT?"

Hubby heard it too and is not going back to work on Monday.

Lessons Learned

My son loves to play with the light switch. It doesn't matter if it is day or night. It's just fun to have that power. But as adults we learn about electricity and bills, so we teach our children not to play with the light.

My husband tells my 3 year old when he wants to turn on the light, "Are you going to be reading? If you are not reading, you don't need the light on."

So the other night, as we sat in the living room watching television, my son decided he would like to play with his flashlight.

Problem: the living room lights were on.

He tells his dad, "Dad, you not reading. We must turn off the light."

I Hear Voices

I hear a voice in my head. Do you?

Saturday I had a little melt down. I ended up spending about 3 hours alone, walking, listening to my mp3.

I discovered that the reason I had the meltdown was that my alone time had vanished. With my husband home recouperating and my father-in-law here to help out, I no longer had my quiet time. And I literally mean my quiet time.

I am not used to hearing the television on all day. Or voices constantly talking. Except for maybe the voice in my head (there is only one at the moment), I am used to bouts of silence.

So on Saturday, I walked. I had Rascal Flatts blaring in my ear, I Melt played over and over again in my own version of meditation. I just needed to tune everything else out so I could focus again on the voice in my head.

Writing helps me listen to her. As does silence. I've discovered that I like the voice in my head. I like what she has to say. She keeps me sane.

And she's awfully smart.

I hear my voice. Do you hear yours?

Like Father, Like Son

Remember my Out of the Mouth of Babe posts where my son says some interesting things? I now know where he gets it from. This happened yesterday before we left the hospital.

My husband says: "Tit rate."

Me: "Huh?"

Husband in hospital points to his IV pump machine. "It says tit rate" he says with a manly giggle.

I glance over to where he is pointing.

"Ummm... no. That's TITRATE."

Tiiiiii-trate.

I'm a freakin' ray of sunshine!

Good morning sunshine!

What a hectic busy time it has been. My son ended up having to go to the emergency room on Saturday for difficulty breathing. After 2 breathing treatments, oral steriods (which he threw up on me), a shot, and x-ray, we were able to take him home. He is doing much better as I write this.

This on top of the worry and stress of my husband's neck surgery which went as planned yesterday. All looks well! Hopefully he will be able to go home today.

And I got a sty in my eye on Friday which is almost like an insult when you consider everything else going on in my life. So I can't even look cute while I am stressed since I have to wear my glasses! WTH?! Now that is just not fair!!

Which brings me to a memory of a girl sitting on the beach saying "Why me? Why me?" and having some random beach bum come up and say "Why not?"
Remember Yooj?

Why not indeed!

But today looks rosy and my spirits are intact as is my sanity.

Thank goodness my father-in-law is here to help. We did anticipate he would keep my son from jumping on my husband after his surgery, but we did not plan for my son needing medical care himself. If my father-in-law wasn't here, I would be spread even thinner than I am now. Such a tremendous relief. I ca't even begin to tell you!!

See, there is a silver lining to everything! I can't help being a freakin' ray of sunshine! Help! Pollyanna syndrome!!

And yes, Kim...there is a silver lining! (ala Yes, Virginia...there is a Santa....)

Three Wishes

My son watches a television show called Hi-5. It's a great show that encourages imagination. Their closing song asks... "If you had three wishes, what would they be?"

So, today is your day.

If you had three wishes, what would they be?

Slide Show

Get Your Own! | View Slideshow

Fun and Games on Halloween

My husband is going to be having surgery.

Yesterday in the doctor's office, we waited to see the doctor for the last meeting before the surgery. No one is really excited about having the surgery. Especially the patient who will be having the anterior cervical spine allograft and plating. Which means in layman's terms, the surgeon will cut into the front of his neck to fix the problems with his disc and bone spur. Surgery alone is bad enough. The thought of someone cutting into your neck... jeepers, creepers!

Except if you are 3 years old.

In your Firefighter Halloween Costume.

Singing in the doctor's office the song you just made up.

"Surgery. Surgery. Sur-ur-urgery. Surgery. Surgery. Sur--ur-ur-ger-yyyyyyyy."

Out of the Mouth of Babe

On top of saying "What it is?," my son says "Whatchu going?".

Next we expect him to say, "Whatchu talkin' 'bout Willis?".

Nutrition Guide

In the column to the right, you may have noticed I have listed a few sites related to weightloss and health. The newest addition is the Nutrition Guide for Men and Women.

This site tells you how many calories you should be eating to lose weight and to maintain. It will also tell you how many calories you need based on exercise.

***************Disclaimer***************

1. I am not a doctor. I do not portray one on television or in my real life.
2. As far as I know, Weight Watchers has not approved this information.
3. I believe in being fully armed with knowledge as we battle to keep healthy.
4. Take this (as well as any information you may find here) with a grain of salt (and a shot of Vodka). **Sheesh! No! Not really about the Vodka... unless you really really want too. Don't believe everything you read and don't do everything you read! Do I have to tell you everything?!**

***************Disclaimer end***************

Aside from calories, you get an idea of how much fat you should be eating, as well as carbs, and protein. I think too often we forget we need fats in our diet as we strive to purge our bodies of our excess fat.

The key to everything seems to be moderation and correct proportion.

Hope you find these helpful.

Ai Yi Yi!

I try to be creative with my son. I try to make moments both educational and fun. We say things like "Yessiree Bob-er-rooney!" (One day he'll laugh about it!)

So as I was driving, I hit a dip in the road. My mind works pretty quickly sometimes.

I say, "Ai, Chihuahua!"

My son's mind works quickly too. At his age, he loves being right and correcting us.

My son responds, "No! You're a mommy!"

Apparently "Ai" am not a chihuahua.

Hay'r it is!

Oh What Fun
It is to be
3 years old

in a circle of hay

with a great Buddy!

"Look Mom! There's a party!"

It took me a few minutes to understand what my son was talking about. I scanned the living room until I came upon this sight.


Notice the fancy party hats...

And some are having a great time as you can see...

Excuse me?

After endless questions on car rides of "where are we going", we've begun to tell our son (after telling him about 3 times where we are going), "Don't worry about it. Just enjoy the ride."

So yesterday, I was trying to distract him and keep him occupied in the car by asking him questions.

Apparently my line of questioning was getting too difficult to answer (or just not worthy of answering)... he says to me "Just enjoy the ride, mom."

Excuse me???

And so it starts...

Hurry, Hurry! Eat Curry!

People in India eat curry. The United States has four times more cases of Alzheimer's than India. Coincidence? Maybe not.

According to an article in Reuters, 1010 Asians were studied. Their curry consumption was monitored along with results from the Mini-Mental State Exam (MMSE).

Improved MMSE scores were noted in even those who had low levels of curry consumption. The researchers believe that their study provides evidence of the link between curry and "cognitive performance". It may prove to be the key to preventing Alzheimer's.

Which may be why many engineers are coming from India.

So you may soon be saying to your children, "Put down the spinach. Hurry, Hurry! Eat Curry!"

But then again, look at all the ups and downs we've seen. DHEA, tofu... who really knows what's good for you or not? Just do like I do... tuck this away in the corner of your brain.

And eat some curry once in a while so you won't forget it.

Sleepless in LA

I am sorry to report I have nothing of great interest to write about today. So I will blog about me. I said I have nothing of great interest to write about today.

I am just tired.

We are still doing my son's breathing treatments at 4 am, 10 am, 4 pm, and 10 pm. We split those odd hour treatments so we can get the most rest. I do the 10 pm and my husband does the 4 am. I normally sleep at 9:00 pm. These "late" night treatments are seriously affecting my sleep.

Instead of waking up at 5:00 am, I wake up at 6:45.

Which affects my normal routine.

But the good news is my son is doing much better. I hear "Come on, run with me" and "go fast". It is not accompanied by wheezing. It is music to my ears.

Ladies Man

He is a true connoisseur of women. He knows what is really important. He looks deeper, beneath the surface.

His eyes don't care if there are wrinkles or firm breasts. He doesn't care how smart you are or how much money you make. You don't have to be an amazing cook. He would be happy with McDonald's.

What he looks for is attention. He looks for interaction.

Are you open to him? Will you spend time with him? Will you be playful? Will you laugh? Will you share?

He wants to know about you. What are you doing? Are you happy? Are you sad? Why are you sad?

He is honest. He is not afraid to share his emotions. He will cry when he is sad, and you will know when he is mad. He will tell you what you want to know. He will tell you he loves you.

He is the perfect man.

Perfect to his mom anyway.

He is my true love.

And he has shown me what an open heart can do. He loves anyone and everyone. And everywhere he goes, he makes friends. He is friendly, so others are friendly too. We speak to the cashiers, the mail carriers, people in line. He makes people smile. No one is truly a stranger. Just someone we haven't met yet.

You know how a truck driver of a big rig might honk their horn at you to say "Hello?" My son gets that from the garbage truck! It surprised me and delighted me, but I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised. My son brings that out of people. The good.

So I learn from him. Because of him, I talk. I talk to complete strangers. I connect. And as I do so, I become a better person, a richer person. And not just for him. For me.

So take a cue from a ladies man, a people man, be honest with yourself and the people around you. Open your heart and your mind and invite love in. You won't be sorry.

Trust me

**cough, cough**

He said with a smile and excitement, clapping his little hands together:

"Mom, I'm better 'n better. I know! Let's go to the park. That would be a great idea mom!"

**cough, cough**

I said:

"That is a great idea! But...."

Quality Care

Los Angeles made the news.

For dumping patients on Skid Row.

Again.

Homeless patients leave hospitals in ambulances and taxi cabs and are mysteriously dropped off on Skid Row. Sometimes against their will. Sometimes just wearing a hospital gown.

Even Kaiser Permanente is guilty of this.

All that comes to mind is "What the hell?!"

This is not the America I am proud of.

Pomme Frites!

If I said "Paris", what would come to your mind? No, not Hilton! I meant the city in France.

There are usually two ideas about Paris. You would either say something like love and beauty or dog poop and rude people. Well, apparently there is something to be said about the power of French dog poop and rudeness.The French have helped to create mental illness in the Japanese who visit.

It was first written about in the psychiatric journal Nervure in 2004, something called the "Paris Syndrome." According to the article I read online from Reuters, Japanese tourists (my poor misguided brethrens) have a certain expectation of Paris. Unfortunately their romanticized dreams of Paris clash violently with their own cultural practices.

In Japan, the customers are treated quite royally. In France, the French prove to be royal *&%*^! The sales clerks don't pay them much attention. The people look harsh and severe. And to top matters off, the Japanese fall prey to the purse snatchers.

It seems that each year, about 12 Japanese tourists require pyschological help after visiting Paris. And I don't mean our western versions of needing a shrink to talk to about our problems. I mean these people are bonkers! Looney toons crazy! They are imagining that they are being bugged! Or that they are Louis XIV! Or that microwaves are attacking them! Like I said, bonkers!

So if you are Japanese or nice and polite or prone to losing it completely, I guess the best advice is to forget Paris. Remember you have been warned.

A trip to Paris may get you French Fried!

Motivation

People ask me, when they hear about my weightloss, "What motivates me?"

It's hard to come up with an answer.

First, I want to say I am proud of the fact that I actually lost the weight I wanted to and then some. I didn't think I would. I just hoped that if I followed the plan it would happen. And I did, and the weight came off. And I am maintaining through watching my points and exercise.

I'm stubborn. My husband would be the first to tell you. So, back up against the wall, I made a commitment, dug my heels in and fell whole heart into WW. (Of course paying $12 a week was also an incentive. I did not want to be the one who "wasted" hard earned money by failing. Money doesn't grow on trees, you know.)

Along the way, I made a lot of discoveries about myself. I hadn't realized how much of me I'd buried under the weight. The funny silly creative Me began re-emerging as I posted on the board with my fellow Weight Watchers. I found an outlet to help others and myself. The more I wrote, the funnier I got and the writer in me surfaced again after a long, long hiatus.

I found I was much stronger than even I thought I was.

Words that became important to me: Perseverence, Motivation, Determination, Fortitude, Attitude, Faith, Hope, Love.

I did a lot of reading. Reading books like Chicken Soup, reading sites like Sparkepeople and Prevention. I kept the quotes that touched a cord in me close at hand. I found motivation in other people's stories and other people's words until I could feel it in myself, believe it myself.

Yes, I first started WW to lose weight, but I ended up changing my health and my way of thinking about food and myself and life. WW is not just about losing weight. It's about control of me.

As far as continued motivation in the maintenance phase, fear of failure is a motivator. I don't want to fail. I don't want all my hard work to just go down the toilet. I made it, and I will do my best to stay here. That means I cannot feel too complacent about where I am. Maintenance is an everyday monitoring that I cannot slack on.

I believe that WW works. I need to follow the plan and keep following the plan all my life. I need to persevere through the rough times when motivation fails me. I need to keep a fighting spirit, a sassy positive attitude. I need to use the tools around me, WW, BCB, friends and family. I need to search for the things that will help me when I need it.

So to answer the question, in a nutshell, I motivate me.

Just Breathe

My son has asthma.

I discovered this on Friday when I took him back to the doctor's office. We had gone on Thursday because he had a cold and labored breathing. He received a breathing treatment and was given a prescription for liquid albuterol syrup. I brought him back on Friday for his recheck. I was told the syrup albuterol was not working too well. He received another breathing treatment and I would need a nebulizer for home. And an inhaler.

My son has asthma.

I spent Friday and Saturday running to all the pharmacies and medical supply stores in the area looking for accessories for the new nebulizer such as a pediatric face mask. I've come to the conclusion that some pharmacies and supply stores have idiots working there. My unit has a rectangular mouth piece. Most masks have a circular attachment. I can't tell you how many times I had to convince someone "A circle does not fit into a..." ARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!! Idiots!

No offense to you if you do not fit in this catagory. I did say "some."

So I finally ordered through one company that seems competent.

And now, after the hectic weekend of going hither and yon, after round the clock treatments every 6 hours, after worrying and worrying as only a mother can do, I've decided it is my turn.

I'm having a moment. Slowly.

Just breathe.

Things that make you go hmmm...

Found this on one of those quiz sites. I know some of you will find it funny:

• You know the signs on restaurant doors? No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service? what if someone goes in with No Pants? Would the restaurant still have to serve them?
• If an African elephant comes to America, is it an African-American elephant?
• If a doctor suddenly died while doing surgery, would the other doctors work on the doctor or the patient?
• Why do we sing "Rock a bye baby" to lull our little ones to sleep when the song is about putting your baby in a tree and letting the wind crash the cradle to the ground?
• Why do we say we're head over heels when we're happy? Isn't that the way we normally are?
• If bald people work as chefs in a restaurant,do they have to wear hairnets?
• Why do sleeping pills have warning labels that state :'Caution: May Cause Drowsiness?
• Do nudists have pin-ups of people with clothes on?
• If there's a wheelchair-bound comedian, is it still called "stand-up"?
• When the French swear do they say pardon my English?
• Why do people constantly return to the refrigerator with hopes that something new to eat will have materialized?
• If you have a cold hot pocket, is it just a pocket?
• In libraries, do they put the bible in the fiction or non-fiction section?
• Does a two-humped camel store more water than a one-humped camel?
• If you pamper a cow, do you get spoiled milk?
• Why is it that if someone yells "duck" they are helping you, but if they yell "chicken" they are insulting you?
• If you fart and burp at the same time, would it make a vacuum in your tummy?
• Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars, but check when you say the paint is wet?
• When Jewish People go to Court, they can't swear on the bible, can they?
• Why when people ask you "what three things would you bring with you on a desert island?" no one ever replies, "A BOAT"?
• Is there ever a day that mattresses are not on sale?
• If you only have one eye...are you blinking or winking?

The O's have it!

• Jen and Vince did not get engaged.
• Jen's boobs got big because of a 10 pound weight gain. Not from breast surgery.
• Jen and Vince did not break up.

This is the type of "who the f*ck cares" information we see all around us. Newsworthy apparently.

It ticks me off. Especially when I want to know about the earthquake in Hawaii. Or what's going on in Darfur. Or why Pluto is no longer a planet (newsflash if you didn't know!).

So I rely on Oprah to give it to me straight.

I get to sit and listen for an hour and learn. And cry. And have hope. I see others in the world who care and are doing things to empower others and themselves. It moves me and motivates me to do more. Thank you Oprah!

Which brings me to yesterday's guest: Barack Obama.

Each time I see him he impresses me.

He says what we need to "instill in our country, in our children, is a sense, are you useful? Are you useful to other people? Are you making other people's lives a little bit better?"

Damn! I hope so. I hope I have and continue to do so personally and through the beliefs and values I teach to my son.

He says "My mother taught me empathy—the basic concept of standing in somebody else's shoes and looking through their eyes. If I did something messed up, she'd just say, 'How would that make you feel if somebody did that to you?' That ends up being, I think, at the center of my politics, and I think that should be the center of all our politics."

Empathy. Not apathy. Empathy.

When he was asked about his mother and how sad it must be that she wasn't alive to see him in the limelight as Senator, he replied it was difficult knowing she had never seen her granddaughters.

WOW! That says it all right there. Who he is. An amazing man. An amazing human being raised by an equally amazing mother. I wonder what the world would be like if everyone thought a little more like they did.

Some Been There, Done That & Not

I caught a chameleon in Saudi Arabia.
I have eaten pizza in Greece.
I drank cappuccino in Italy and coconut juice in Malaysia.
I have visited the Mauna Kea Observatory.
I jet skied in Papua New Guinea.
I saw the battlefields of Virginia.
I shot an AK-47 in Pennsylvannia.
I road Space Mountain in Florida.
I bought a rug in Tijuana.
I have ridden the subway in New York.
I have had my haircut in Hong Kong.
I have seen where Shakespeare lived and Robin Hood's domain.
I have watched Colin Raye, Alan Jackson, and Bon Jovi in concert.
I saw a beluga whale in Washington.
I have ridden a camel in Saudi Arabia, an elephant in Thailand, and horse in Egypt (and gotten thrown in Canada).

I have not seen Garth Brooks in concert.
I have not skiied (water nor snow).
I have not sky dived.
I have not learned how to drive a motorcycle or a stick shift.
I have not published a book or even written my name in snow.
I have not dyed my hair with koolaid.
I have not visited Japan (but I have been inside the airport).

I started this list because I did not know what to write about today. But as I wrote I discovered I have done a good number of things. Different things. I guess it shows me that my life has indeed been rich with experiences. I am full of "haves".

Remember your haves.

Eye of the Beholder

Have you seen this advertisement for the movie "The Grudge 2"? Centered in a pale, bloodless face is a wide, frightened eye. Scary enough to provoke nightmares in adults!

My son saw this billboard as we drove in the car. He pointed it out to me... "Look mom! The number 2 picture!"

"Yes, it is a number 2 picture!" I replied, much relieved that was all he saw.

Just a quick example of that old expression "in the eye of the beholder".

Thank goodness!

Time

Time. It is finite. For us.

On Friday the 13th, I discovered my vet had Cancer, had had cancer since 2001. She had won the first battle, but as Cancer is the most cunning of evils, it had come back. She has lived 1/2 of the 1-6 years of life the her doctor had given her.

The Cancer continues to make life difficult, invading her spine, ribs, and neck. She is in pain, forced to cut back on the job she so loves, her clinic, her animals.

If you see her, you see a short ball of energy. Quick, happy. If she had not left that note hanging from her office counter, such a innocuous looking note, I would never had known.

After reading the note, I was overcome with a wave of sadness and anger. The anger was what bothered me the most, rolling over and over me.

I was filled with such a boiling rage that Cancer would win yet again, that it had affected not just another life but lives. It affects not one. It affects a family, a community. We all suffer.

I wanted to see her, to hug her, to say how sorry I was, how much she will be missed, to say Gambate and all those senseless things we say when we hear the awful news that someone is dying. Remember that poem we all had to read by Dylan Thomas? It was all I could think about. I wanted to tell her "do not go gentle into that good night ". "Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

But I am so glad I didn't. I think those words are more for me than for her. She sounded like she had accepted death. I would only have made her day worse by my tears and my grief. She's made some peace with the idea. For me, having just learned, my grief is new and alive.

She is doing everything in her power to live normally in the time she has left. She fights through her pain to come to work. She really doesn't need me to remind her with my sadness. So I fight through my ideas and wonder if I am doing the right thing. Should I send her a note? What would I say? And would doing this make her feel better? Is this a selfish thing on my part? What I want her to know may not be what she needs to hear.

I'm sure her main worry is for the family she leaves behind. Certainly, I am sure, she is not dwelling on what I think or do.

So for now I do nothing.

California Freaks

After moving to California in 1997, I began working at a nearby hospital. On one memorable occasion, a patient proved resistant to doing his exercises. While this was a new patient for me, it was not uncommon to have patients that needed to be persuaded to do the required therapy. Normally, we (therapists) do a little give and take and try our best to convince the patient of why they should do XY and Z. We listen and motivate.

Well, this guy wanted me to do his personal exercise routine first before he would do mine. I was game. First I had to take off my shoes. Then my socks. Then he put my feet and toes through a series of "exercises".

Now I try to divert him back to the exercises I wanted him to do. But, no. He has more foot exercises he want me to do first. Okaaaaaay.

My brain is beginning to sense something is wrong. Disturbingly wrong. Huge willies wrong! I am now thinking about everything I have just done for this man regarding my feet. Is he staring? WTH?!

Dear God I think I have a foot fetish dude here.

Now you may not think it is so weird, foot fetishes, but I felt seriously violated. I know. It's just feet. Not a boob or anything. But just the thought of someone deriving some sort of physical, sexual pleasure from you... secretly, covertly... like a peeping tom or those guys who carry video cameras and look up your skirt. It's... oogie! (For all those not from Hawaii... oogie is like when something is just gross to all hell and you get the uncontrolled shivers - pronounced ooo Gee - gee like the letter "g".) It was like that. Very very oogie!

Did I ever have that patient again? Hell no! And I made sure to warn the schedulers to place him with a male therapist next time.

Has it scarred me for life? Hell yes!

I do not wiggle my toes for strangers.

Other body parts? Well...

A plus B

One day at Target, we were standing in line waiting to pay for our items. My son notices the lady behind us. Never a shy soul (my son will talk to anything that breaths... and even that is not a requirement) he begins his litany of questions with this lady. But this time, there was a change in his questions. He asks "Are you going to the doctor?"

I'm a little puzzled and taken aback. It seemed to be a strange question. Then I notice. She was carrying a large envelope which she was purchasing.

My son had made the connection from his limited life experience.

He has never seen us mailing a large envelope. But, he has seen Daddy taking a big brown envelope (for x-rays and MRIs) whenever he goes to the doctor. For him, large envelopes equal doctor's office.

I am constantly amazed at how little minds work. It makes me wonder what else he may have seen or heard and what that might mean to him. We make such an impact in the lives of children. Is it the right one? It is certainly something to think about.

What did he say?

My son has quite a vocabulary in part thanks to his mom (that would be me) and television. At 3 years of age, he has been heard to say:

Making tracks to great destinations from Thomas the Tank Engine
Buffer from Thomas the Tank Engine
Boiler from Thomas the Tank Engine
Bossy from Thomas the Tank Engine
Hooligan from Fireman Sam
turn the page when you hear the sound -beep- from books on tape
frustrated
enormous
decorate
refinery (as in oil)
organize
actually
concentrate
recycle
flat bed tow truck
armored truck
delivery
stethoscope
emergency
instructions
tiller man (the guy who drives the tiller of the fire engine)
excited
appointment

I cannot say whether this is normal or not. I'm just trying to keep a record of his activites. In spite of the vocabulary, most of the times, mom still is the only one who can understand him.

Out of the Mouth of Babe

Yesterday at JCPenney, my son was misbehaving for the upteenth time. So, I gave him a time out. He sat on the floor crying while I paid for my items. A little girl came by and was trying to talk to him. He pointed his finger and through his tears, he cried "I'm in time out! Go away!"

Bossy, but absolutely correct.

Lowbrow for Kim

OMG!

You want to hear about those stories. Thank you Oprah for bringing up the topic! Thank you Kim for pressing the issue.

I cannot believe I am doing this but... for my other fan, Kim, here it is!

Just 2 stories. No more.

Number 1 fart
I was in the science lab with my very first serious boyfriend. I was sitting on one of those lab chairs, the kind that resembles a bar stool, metal seat that swivels around. We were laughing about something and ... no! don't guess! ... he decides to give me a hug... a huge, squeeze the life (or something else as the case may be) out of me hug, like a python but fast and quick. The sound of gas being expelled from my body into the metal seat reverberated in that small room like an explosive force. I'm still surprised the glass cabinets didn't shatter. It was that loud. Really, really unbelievably "you just could not even in your right mind imagine" loud! Followed by the sounds of male laughter, side-splitting, knee slapping laughter that did nothing to stem my embarassment or quell the red, hotness of my cheeks (the ones on my face). But I'm a "one of the guys" girl so I took it like a moron (Oops! I mean man. I took it like a man.)

Number 2 fart
I was at the beach. A bunch of college friends were camping out. I was lying in the tent when my buddy shouts "steamroller!" He proceeds to roll over me, squashing me like a bug, as if he was a steamroller (hence the name). He was a good sized guy, muscles, lifting weights kind of guy. This time you can guess. Yes. He rolls over me and squishes the fart out of me. Again more uncontrolled male laughter. Gales of laughter. I am mortified. But I laugh like a good sport. What else is there to do? I would have laughed if it happened to someone else. So I can laugh at me too. (And to my college buddies out there who may be wondering who the guy in this story was...if steamroller wasn't enough of a clue...the male in the story is now a dentist.)

Why do these embarassing moments happen with the men? I guess if it happened with women it wouldn't be so embarassing. It would just be funny. Very, very funny.

So there it is. My 2 fart stories. And if you know of any more pertaining to me, please do not volunteer any. I choose not to remember any more of them. These 2 have been forever etched into my memory. Let's not add more.

Farts. I have been reduced to fart stories. Oh dear.

Random Acts of Kindess

Can it be truly random if you purposefully do an act of kindess?

I entered the grocery store today. When you enter, the checkout lines are right in front. As I rounded the corner heading for the produce area, I see a lady putting her groceries on the conveyor belt. I see she happens to have a box of Weight Watcher's cereal. It just so happens I was feeling ambitious the last few days and had finished reorganizing my coupons. I grabbed my coupon binder, (yes, I decided a binder would help me find and use these coupons more) and after a quick search located my Weight Watcher coupon. I proceeded to ask the lady if she could benefit from it and handed over the dollar savings.

Then in the store, I over hear a haole gentleman asking an employee if they had pickled ginger. I assumed she didn't know since the conversation was brief and they were not in the correct area. So later, I hunted the man down, debated the whole time about if I should just leave the poor guy alone and mind my own business, but decided if I found him I would talk to him. Of course I found him and gave him my 2 cents about where he could find pickled ginger... which was not in this store.

And then I was soon in the car driving home, thinking about blogging this. I thought it would be incomplete and I was trying to come up with a third act of kindness since you really need 3 to make things sound better. I was thinking, well, I redecorated my son's room (but I didn't count that since it was more guilt than anything since I should have done it last week). As I typed this I remembered, I did do a random act. And I truly hope it is the kind of random act that will inspire you to do one as well. On my way out of the store, I donated money.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness month.

I know too many people who have had their lives forever changed by breast cancer. If you haven't done so, please think about donating. Why? Because it is important. Because it can and will help. And if that's not enough, because I damn well told you to!

So to go back to my question: Can it be truly random if you purposefully do an act of kindess? I don't think it matters. Just do it. Thank you.

I think of you. I miss you. You are my sister in all the ways that count. This is for you. You know who you are.

Forever she will be
in my thoughts.
Just as your life has changed
so has mine
because you touched me.

Thank You Alwyn!

I did not take micro. But I did take invertebrate zoology.

Lifecycles.

Malaria, Giardia and Leptospirosis. Ringworms. Tape worms. Hookworms. Toxoplasmosis. Trichinosis.

And now I remember why I do not like to go barefoot outdoors (among other things!).

Thank you Alwyn! :-P

In the News

E Coli in Spinach.
E Coli in Green Lettuce Leaf.
Botulism in Carrot Juice.
It's killer to get healthy.

Wasted

I went to college. I earned my degree. I went to work with that degree. I had a baby. I stopped working. I am a stay at home mom.

Apparently to some, it has been a waste.

May I say here I strongly disagree?

I STRONGLY DISAGREE!

Yes, I am not actively using my degree to work in a career that pays me money. BUT, how narrow minded to think my time, my intelligence, has been wasted.

Would it have been better for me not to go to college? Should I have just went from high school and straight into motherhood? Does that make more sense?

In everything I've done, I've gained knowledge. I've gained life experience. I'd like to think I have matured and gotten smarter (if not more redundant).

I have had the marvelous chance to stay at home with my son. It gives me enormous freedom and opportunity to teach him what I know. Isn't it our goal as parents to smooth the way for our children as much as possible? How can we do this if not through knowledge?

The time I spend with my son is not a waste.

The time I spent thinking about this, justifying my decision... now that is a waste.

Get a Room!

Yesterday, while in the Children's section of Barnes & Noble bookstore, I observed 2 fully grown adults in their 30's. A little boy was nearby purusing the books while they sat pressed together in front of the wooden train table, arms around each other, giggling, groping, whispering... tonguing each other!

Yes, I saw tongues!

I am not a prude. I am pretty open minded (at least in my mind). I actually think it is nice to see adults in love, enamored even. But impassioned, between the Barbie and Curious George (Barbie and Curious George! The names seemed appropriate too!) paraphernalia?! A little much, don't you think?! Hearing them kiss? More than a bit gross! The only sucking sounds I should be hearing are little toddlers' thumbs in their own mouths!

I didn't needed to see this, much less have my son watch! And people gripe about mothers' who breastfeed in public? Please! I don't care if I see a whole boob with an infant attached. I can explain the purpose of that. But, the adults sucking face?!

And I assumed the little boy there was the woman's child since the man seemed to have less interest in the boy (even less than she did!). So it made me wonder, who was cheating on whom? I mean, come on! Why else would two adults make out in the kiddie section of Barnes & Noble? No married couple (married to each other!) would do that! At least none that I could think of.

What were Barbie and Curious George doing?! What were these two thinking?! Obviously not much thinking going on.

Get a Room!

Or at least go into the adult section!

Blogging

I thought this whole concept of blogging was foreign to me. What the hell is blogging anyway? Yes, it was a word I actually had to "google". I googled this word more than any other. Many, many times. I would read the definition. Think, "okay". And then I would forget. The media would talk about blogging and I'd be back googling.

(Blogging. Googling. What words we've created. More on word creations in later blog.)

But as I go through my old short stories, I realize I've been blogging all along.

So just what is a blog? According to Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary, a blog is "an online personal journal with reflections, comments".

Ahhhh! A journal. Reflections. Comments.

The only difference between then and now? I can journal on the computer and potentially millions could be reading this instead of just me. (Okay, I know there is like 3 of you reading this but I did say potentially! Leave me with a few illusions!)

Did I happen to mention I love to blog? Blogging is freeing for me, in more ways than I can express. I think great things, the best things, have come out from my blogging.

I started writing again. Poems, reflections, preserving my memories.

I've started writing something for my son to read.

I've been wanting to write to him, for him, since before he was born. I want him to know of his mother's love for him, her pride in him. I want him to know how special he is and what a joy and a privilege it is being his mother. I want him to know who his mother was, who she really was. What hopes and dreams his mother may have had. Her trials and tribulations. All the things that she may never have the courage to openly discuss... except in this forum.

And I know by doing this, he will learn more about me, see more of me, more than we normally share with our children. I will become more than mom, more than his father's wife. I will become a whole person. And perhaps, one day, he will not only be proud to call me mom but also friend.

Discovery of an old letter

In my collection of junk, I found an old letter I was writing to someone. I have no idea if a copy was ever sent but it sure is fun to read. I've decided to include exerpts. Bad language has been blocked to protect the innocent. This is from January 15, 1994 while I was living in Grand Forks, North Dakota.


Can I just say how f**king cold it is here?! On Wednesday, there is
an expected minus 100 degrees with with chill. It's already in the
fifties, and I can't see how I'm going to survive the rest of the week. At the moment, the majority of the people I know with cars aren't going anywhere. The cars just won't start. I took a bus to the store last night. I caught a cab back because I just couldn't stand outside waiting for the returning bus. I waited 45 minutes for the cab! Of the two cab companies, that one was the quickest.

My apartment is decent. I have an amazing amount of closet space and more than enough room for me. The only thing I need is a television set. The girl I'm subleasing from left a small one (couple of inches) but it catches only Canadian stations. You can't imagine how maddening that can be. Especially when I should be able to catch cable.

Last night I received 3 marriage proposals and 1 offer of a date. I was over at Colleen's apartment cooking dinner for her and her 4 neighbors. I guess they might have been overly appreciative. Unfortunately, they were all 20 years old. I like my men in their peak, 18.

Now, I can honestly say I don't remember the marriage proposals so that may or may not have been true. But since I wrote it, it must be true, right?! In case you were wondering, I would have been 23 years old at the time and had not yet met my husband. That would come in the summer of 1994.

Out of the Mouth of babe (2)

More words from my little guy...

"Be Patient."
When mommy tried to fast forward his new dvd.

"Look, mom! A party!"
When he saw the beginning of the Price is Right.

"Mom, you gonna wipe your penis?"
No, dear. Mommies don't have a penis. At least not this mommy.

About Today's Poem

I won't do this often, but I wanted to give you a little background on today's poem.

I started thinking about it last night while I was doing the dishes. Hands wet and soapy, I kept running the idea in my head. I'm not sure if it is indicative of old age, but I find my thoughts are fleeting. If I do not get them on paper, the likelyhood of losing that idea within a few minutes is pretty damn good.

So, there I am in my apron (Yes, I wear an apron! I don't cook much, but I love my aprons!), washing the dishes, desperately trying to hold on to the idea of how devastating first loves are and the movement, progression from that place in time.

I've seen, heard of, known women who make their partner their sole reason for being and I've always wondered why. Although I've experienced and suffered from the angst of failed relationships, I always believed (Sorry, Gloria Gaynor!) "I will survive".

I hurriedly wiped my hands. Damn! Notebook upstairs. Nearby, a used envelope. Convenient. I wrote.

And the title? After the dishes, we were watching a show about tattoos. There was an ex-gang banger with his eyelids tattooed. What did it say? "No Love Lost". Totally different meaning from what I intended but the words caught me and I had a feeling it would be right. So out came the envelope from my back pocket, and I wrote the title.

This is what I started with to get that poem out.




It reads:

No Love Lost
Remember pain of
loss of first loves
How pain lessens
with each cheat
Not because gave up
on love
because love
yourself more
find strength in
self
I believe in
me more

A little good news?

On the news last night was a missing child report. The good news was the child was found.

Here's what apparently happened.

This child was about 5 years old. He had been picked up from "school" by the babysitter.

The problem?

The babysitter picked up the wrong kid! So this kid was "missing" for about 5 hours before the babysitter realized the mistake. The kid was brought back.

So this raised some questions in my head.

Can anyone say "new babysitter"? How do you not recognize the kid you are babysitting? This kid was old enough that you should have been able to tell this was the wrong kid!

And can anyone say "school security"? Apparently, someone at the "school" said the child who was taken was seen talking to the babysitter as if he knew them so no one stopped them from leaving the school together. Oh my freaking God! What?!

Ummm. "New school"?

I remember when I was checking out potential preschools for my son I had asked about security. I knew that at this particular place the kids played outside while parents came to pick them up. The answer I got was that there was an employee outside, and if they saw an adult they didn't recognize, the employee would go inside the building to get the supervisor to see if this was an approved person on the school grounds. So I thought...And by the time you get the supervisor for the okay, the person has taken a child and driven off! Great system.

So if you have school aged kids or know someone who does, pass along this story. We need to do what we can to keep our children safe.

Silver and Gold

When I was a young girl, I was a Campfire Girl, a Brownie, and a Girl Scout. Somewhere along the line, I learned a song that I have not forgotten to this day.

"Make new friends but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold."

I have been very fortunate, through the marvel of the internet, to get reconnected with my college buddies. These are people that I spent a good majority of my time with for 4 years. It was an incredible 4 years. You think your college years were great? Trust me. You had nothing on us!

Now you may find it strange to hear most of us were biology majors. So the place of choice to hang out was the lab. And as geeky as that may sound, all the cool kids hung out at the lab. It was the place to be on Friday nights. We brought the beer and pupus. We had our own acoustic band.

We danced and sang together.
We camped and slept together.
We studied hard and played hard.

Mostly we laughed together.

Then, time got in the way. We graduated. We got scattered across the globe. We lost touch.

Some 12 years later, I've found them again. We've been bringing to life our dormant memories. We've been learning about who we have become.

The guy I remembered always smelling his food before he ate it (and who asked why are we leaving the beach when it just started raining and now we have the beach to ourselves) is now an orthopedic surgeon.

The crazy fun loving red head is a mother of 2 AND doing CSI DNA stuff in the east coast.

The stud muffin hickey man is a principal and raising his relative's kids as a single father.

The cute ex-football player is a chiropracter in Texas (and thank you for reading my blog and being so supportive! I always knew you had great taste... most of the time!).

The gorgeous one is dating a MLB player and enjoys singing in a band.

How did this end up sounding like something from the Breakfast Club?

I guess that would make me the "brain"?! Well, I'm at home teaching my little guy to make it to the potty on time and the joys of bribery when we're successful! I'm also the one writing this blog (in case some of you have trouble keeping track!).

I guess the whole point of all of this is this... don't lose track of your friends, because it sure is hard to find something once it's lost.

Or how about... treasure what you have because you may not have it forever.

Wow! They both sound pretty sad and depressing.

Let's just end with...

"Make new friends but keep the old."

Most amazing for me is to discover that my old friends have turned into people I would be proud to call my friends today.

Worse?

What's worse?

• Being 35 and getting corrected by your parents?
• Being 35 and getting corrected by your 3 year old?

"Mommy, 'YES' not 'yeah'!"

I had to agree that he was right.

Oh well, it just goes to show you that you can teach your little ones proper English. Too well!

Now if I could only get the dog to stop eating her poop!

Low Points

If you are a Weight Watcher, you know just what I meant by that title.

Yes, I am a Weight Watcher. I am not ashamed to admit it. In fact, if you could see me now, you'd see a skinny Asian 30-something year old, dancing without much rhythm (Damn! I always spell that word wrong!) but pleased as punch.

Stop me on the street. Ask me a question. You'll be sorry you did! I could go on and on about why I think Weight Watcher's is the best thing since sliced bread. Since sliced 1 point bread.

I began my new lifestyle in April 2006, and since then, have lost 30+ pounds and quit smoking. I've made lifetime and have been successfully maintaining my weight. (And no,I am not pregnant...as I know at least one of you is wondering...Mr. Anonymous!)

But, I digress.

This post is about food, not about Weight Watcher's or my journey and discoveries along the way. I promise to write more about that later for anyone who may be interested. Back to food.

Just finished some newly discovered Trader Joe's food. In the art class I attend with my son, we have to bring snacks for the children and adults so I've had the opportunity to sample some foods I wouldn't normally buy. I found some from Trader Joe's items that are low fat/calorie and tasty. I just ate a small bit of chips and salsa and some mini wheat pita bread with hummus. Yummus! 2 mini pitas and 1 serving hummus for 2 points. TJ's chocolate cat cookies are 2 points per serving. Oh, and my absolute favorite is TJ's banana crisp. It is a thinner banana chip with all the great numbers...30 grams of chips is 40 calories, 1 gram fat, and 1 gram fiber.

If you love pasta, you absolutely must find Shirataki Tofu Noodles. For 1 package, 8oz, it is 40 calories, 1 gram fat, and 4 grams fiber. Make sure to rinse well before cooking. I find no difference between the spaghetti type and fettucini type. Just don't be surprised that fettucini costs more for some strange reason. The noodle texture is firm and chewy. For me, it is like biting into a cooked white mushroom. Other than the texture, I think it's as good as the real stuff.

The Weight Watcher's Chocolate cake is great too. 1 point for 1 piece. I also love their ice cream cones (2 points). I enjoy Safeway's Healthy Oatmeal Raisin Cookies (1 point per cookie). If you can eat rice cakes, Quaker's Quakes are pretty good. I love the sweeter flavors (usually 7 cakes for 1 point).

Love yogurt? Hate the taste of Dannon's or Weight Watcher's yogurt? You must try Lucerne light yogurt. All their flavors are great. I said LIGHT not low fat. Low fat means more calories. The light is 110 calories, 0 grams fat, 0 fiber. Absolutely the best (hands down) yogurt on the market. If you find a better one that is equal to or lower in points, I want to know!

But, the absolute best dessert/snack I have ever found is at Vons (maybe Safeway for you?). It is in your freezer section. It is a package of 12 small apple turnovers made by a company called Pegasus (see picture below). It is 1 point for an absolutely delicious, not too sweet, flaky apple turnover. If you can find it, I promise you will love it. Get some low fat vanilla ice cream/yogurt to go with it if you really want to feel like you are splurging!



And if you really really need to eat something that is 3 points or more, like potato chips, go ahead. That's the beauty of Weight Watcher's. Just remember to track and count. And for goodness sakes! Stay within your points!

No food is porn food! It's all good! Just know when to say when!

And unlike Forrest Gump and his "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know...", we need to know what we are eating. I want to know what I get before it goes into my mouth. Nothing sucks more than a few "surprise" points.

Okay, that's all I want to say about low point snacks.

By the way, a shout out to my BCB buddies! You guys rock!

This just in!

Okay, I created my other blog. It will be mostly poetry and the ilk. As I said, not as prolific as this but it has been started. The link is in the sidebar to the right of this under "Welcome". It is called "The Sluggish Scribe."

Heaven (or the next best thing)

Have you ever been to Ikea? Pronounced eye-key-ah! Yes, the Swedish furniture store. We just went this weekend. It was heaven!

I'm serious. Why else would I blog about Ikea?

Now, I am not talking about the furniture they sell or their other items (and they do sell quite a bit... from beds to fridges to hand puppets... and don't forget the meatballs). I'm talking about the bathrooms! More specifically the public "family" bathroom!

Since my son had to go, we went into the family bathroom. Oh my God! I was in heaven. I know, it sounds weird but bathrooms are really important to mommies.

First it was so spacious. It was clean (at least to my naked eye). Nice comfy chairs inside. There was an itty bitty toilet (soooo "make you melt" darling!) and sink. There was an adult sized toilet with a separate stall if you want privacy from your family. On the back of the door to the adult bathroom was a chair. You could sit your baby on the chair and securely buckle them in. They did have a changing table and a place for table liners... AND it was actually stocked with table liners! I've never been in a restroom that actually had table liners! PLUS, on top of all that, they had diapers! If you needed a diaper, they had extras for you to use! All that just for us?! Pinch me quick! Talk about kid friendly! I swear it was a mommy's dream!

Okay, so maybe mom's dream is a little bigger than tiny flushers, but still, it was pretty amazing.

I highly recommend you check it out. Really. It's like Disneyland. You gotta see it at least once in your lifetime. Go. It's well worth the trip. And make sure you bring a kid with you. People may look at you odd if you walk out without a child in tow. Your own, preferably.

It's a Small World (Take 4)

So Close

Early this year, while my son and I were in Home Depot, we saw a lady with her little chihuahua. Being a chihuahua owner myself and seeing how cute her little pup was, I couldn't resist going over.

She was an extremely nice lady, and we had a long chat (I can be quite the conversationalist!). I found out she was dog sitting her daughter's dog. We talked about potty training for chihuahuas and temperment and obedience. Apparently, that cute little pup flunked out of her first obedience class and was currently seeing a personal trainer. I shared my training tips and told her about The Dog Whisperer program (Cesar Milan is my hero!). After a while we finally went our separate ways.

A few weeks later I run into her again at the grocery store (sans dog) and we exchange greetings.

More time passes.

Then, one day while my son and I are outside of our home playing, I see an unknown car drive up. We live in a sort of dead end street. There is only one way in and out, so we know every car in our vacinity.

The car stops at the house next to us. I see it is the lady from Home Depot. Recognition! Surprise! Excitement! She is equally shocked to see me. She gets out of the car, and we immediately begin talking.

It turns out her daughter lives next door to me! Has lived next to me for at least 4 years!

Amazing. And this lady had even told her daughter about meeting me in Home Depot.

Even more amazing is I've talked more with my neighbor's mother than I ever had with her. Now, I know my neighbor's name, her mother's name, and her dog's name. We are friendlier, more neighborly, all due to the chance meetings with her mother.

See, I told you! It really is a small world. Keep your eyes, ears and heart open. You never know who you may run into or the connection you may have.

It's a Small World (Take 3)

The summer before my senior year of high school, I attended a program called SPEBE. It involved a handful of high school students dorming at Chaminade University of Honolulu in a Biology program run by the university's teachers. That particular year, there was a program for teachers there as well.

One of the teachers in attendance was a very cool man who we'll call TP. He was in his 20's with a Jack Nicholson thing going on. He loved to surf and drink and enjoy life. 16 year old girls definitely found him worthy of attention.

I had a connection with him. Even discovered he wrote poetry too and got to read some of his stuff. But what makes this worthy of "Small World"?

TP was working at that time in Hilo. Originally, he was from Texas. For some reason (I totally forget why), I was talking to my dad's aunt over the community telephone. She was a nun in Brownsville, Texas. TP was sitting next to me, so I mention I have a buddy from Texas here. She says, where is he from? Corpus Christi, I say. She says, who is it? I say TP.

Yes, she knew who he was! Apparently she knew his family, knew him since he was little. Freaked both of us out! Too weird. So I hand over the phone, and they start chatting.

It's one of those moments that I will never forget. How utterly strange to meet someone who knows someone I know from a enormous state like Texas. It really is a small world.

Gratitudes

I decided I need to get to work on my stories and poems as I intended when I started this blog. I just don't want to inundate this blog, so next week I'll see if I can start another blog just for my literary pursuit. If it is successful, I will have a link on this blog to the new one. It probably won't be as prolific as this one, but I'll do my best.

I haven't come up with a name yet so I'll consider any ideas for the new blog. Suggestions, please!

I started looking through my old ramblings, my "great" works and journal entries (the ones that managed to survive). I came across my "Gratitude" period. If you are an Oprah fan, you may remember Simple Abundances. The idea was that by keeping a journal and recording 5 things you are grateful for, you will find deeper happiness. (Remember, happiness comes from within.)

Here is my first list of "Gratitudes" from July 16, 1997.

• I am grateful for my friend YJG (who called me today after a 3 month period of no contact).
• I am grateful for my health and fitness which allowed me to pass step one of my physical (bringing me closer to my start of work as a rehab supervisor at LCOM).
• I am grateful for JM for his understanding of my needs to be alone; to pursue my own interests, have my own thoughts.
• I am grateful the dinner I cooked tonight tasted good.
• I am grateful that I can still smile and laugh and think/look for the good in myself, others, things, bad times.

So those were my 5 gratitiudes then. And the funny thing is... if you reread the above gratitudes except for the words in blue, it could be my gratitudes for today.

What are your gratitudes?

About You

Here's 5 questions for you to answer.

1. Name one thing you would change about your appearance.
2. Name one thing you would change about your personality.
3. Name one thing you haven't done that you would like to do.
4. Name one regret.
5. Name one thing you are most proud about (must be about you).

---

My answers:

1. My body parts that changed due to pregnancy. (Use your imagination.)
2. Be less judgemental and more accepting of what I view as others' faults.
3. Skydive
4. Losing touch with friends.
5. Being a good mommy.

All the Way Out of the Closet

I just made it official. I am fully out of the closet! Now all my friends AND family know.

It was a really scary move for me. In the past, I've always wonder about what everyone will think or say. But, maybe I'm getting older (and wiser?) or I just don't care anymore (isn't what I think about ME more important?). I'd rather you find me strange than keep secrets. Besides, it seems kind of silly to have this accessible to millions of strangers but not to family.

So after thinking about it for a few days, I girded up my loins and spread the word. If you are reading this, you

• are curious (how much stranger can I get?)
• have nothing better to do
• really want to see what the heck I am doing now

In any case, thanks for being here. At least once.

BTW, for those that are confused, out of the closet refers to writing my blog. Not my sexual orientation. Just thought I'd clear that up!

Tidbits

Tidbits will be a collection of short thoughts that come into my mind, which I may or may not expand upon at a later date. I'll try to have one monthly Tidbit section and update as I think up more things.

What's in a Name?
My blog is called "This is Just a Test". Is it referring to my views on life? Does it refer to this blog being just a test? Am I testing my skills? I dunno. It just sounded good at the time.

Bribery works. It doesn't matter if you call it bribery or positive reinforcement, it works. Except bribery doesn't sound as good.

I hope you dance.
If you want your child to dance, you must show them how.

Take naps.
It helps prevent grouchiness.

Out of the Mouth of Babe

If you have a child, know a child, ever watched Candid Camera, you know children say the darndest things. So this will be a collection of some words my son has said. I'll update them as more come out of his mouth.

"What it is"
He means to ask, "What is it?" but doesn't quite make it. So he says "What it is" and I just picture him as someone from the 70s ready to strut, wearing a beret, just another Asian brother.

"When I grow up I want to be a stop sign"
This came after the desire to be a firefighter, a train engineer, an ice cream truck driver... I guess he was having so much fun pretending he kept going with the ideas. Hey, I should use this to my advantage. Okay, time for you to be a stop sign. Stay still and don't talk! You be the best stop sign you can be! Mommy will support you!

"I love you, mommy."
Okay, I admit it. 70% of the time it makes me melt. The other 30% I'm thinking, "what did you do now? have you been naughty?" And I'm usually right!

What's Weird?

We all have either seen it or heard about it. Asian tourists (usually Japanese) taking pictures of our everyday items like it was a major attraction... in front of McDonald's and lots of other seemingly silly objects to us.

This past weekend, we ate lunch at a foodcourt which served Japanese food. My husband pointed out something that was a first for me. Living in the United States, it was something I had never seen before. An American was eating Japanese food. (Okay, not that!) It was the sight of the American taking a picture of their food. It was not octopus legs (which is delicious by the way). It wasn't raw fish. It was just regular Japanese food! You know, tempura, rice, some veggies.

I just found it to be an odd sight. Is it just me? Have you ever seen someone taking pictures of their food in a Japanese restaurant or other establishment in the USA? Even when I ordered Rocky Mountain Oysters for the first time (and being Japanese), I was not tempted to take a photograph.

Which made me wonder, which was weirder?

These Japanese tourists or these Americans?

Or maybe me for even thinking about this further and choosing to blog about it?!

Today's Work of Art

Yes, I am a proud mama.

Damn you Data Miners!

WTH?! Until yesterday, I did not even know there was such a thing as data miners. In fact, when my husband first explained it to me, I thought he said data MinDers. Which would make equal sense, because data miners dig for dirt on you, so in a sense they are minding your data.

I know! More big brother.

It's not enough that we have to use a card for every gorcery/pharmacy store we shop in. It's not enough we get our photo taken on the street or voices are now streaming over these video cameras in parts of the world to tell us to get off our bicycles or pick up trash.

We are being monitored while we are on the net.

Maybe I am just very naive or computer illiterate, but it never occured to me. Apparently, all it takes is for you to click onto a website. Then... BINGO! BANGO! If they have a data miner set up, they can track what you do, where you go on the web.

Now I am sure most of these data miners are innocuous, just collecting generic info to help companies with marketing and the like. BUT, these things work like viruses, getting into your computer. And it does seem like a sneaky, shady thing to do, all without our knowledge. Insiduous. (I'm liking the big "I" words rolling off my tongue. Insiduous. Innocuous. Try it!)

So, I'm doing my best to limit these miners. I'm cutting down the time I spend at certain sites. I'm making sure I search for data miners after I visit a site and eliminating it (for those as novice as I am, you need a program to do this). I'm keeping myself alert.

The idea of people getting information about me is disconcerting. (Thank God I no longer visit those XXX sites! Boy, would my face be red!) And these miners do have the potential to gain more personal information from you than you expect.

You have been warned.

I wish I could go back to just enjoying the net as innocently as before.

Damn you Data Miners!