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.