The Best Part of Blogging

Not only do I get to write what I think and feel, I get to read your responses. It's a win-win for me.

And damn! Some of you are freaking funny!

"Full!" Yes, if I ate a huge amount and all of it in one sitting!

Stitches: I have stitches under my chin when I was a wee one from falling off a swing. I had a recent trip to the ER last year requiring stitches in my thumb when a knife slipped while I was in the kitchen separating frozen salmon patties. And I have stitches by my hoo-ha from the whole giving birth thing. TMI? Ah, too late now. No hockey incidents or cat fights. But there was this one time, I was in the ring with Couture...

Hey, anyone else think Don Frye looks like Magnum P.I.? A little?

And in case you were wondering, I have been known to watch a little UFC, a little Pride. It all started with Gracie way back when I used to play darts at Players. Years and years ago. Before 2 of the stitching episodes.

I don't care much for big talkers. You know, the trash talking Muhammed Ali types.

I like guys who go in and get the job done.

Let's leave it at that.

Unanswered Prayers

I have never had a broken bone or sprain or dislocation. Just stitches. I always wanted to have a cast. Get my friends to sign it.

*sigh*

I was never that cool.

Iron Chef

If you've ever watched Iron Chef, you'll be familiar with this quote by Anthelme Brillat-Savarin:

"Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are."

So on Saturday I ate:

• Chinese: fried noodles, orange chicken, chicken with mushroom
• Southern/Soul: collard greens, bread pudding
• Thai: som tum (Papaya salad)
• Korean: kim chee (spicy pickled cabbage)
• Italian: pepperoni pizza
• and a salad of green lettuce leaves.

I wonder what he would say am I?

Daily Lessons

"Sometimes being brave means just being yourself"

quoted from Bear (Disney's Preschool Online: "Braver Behavior" lesson)

Starbucking

It has been pointed out to me that someone is currently visiting all the Starbucks in the world. He is also releasing the DVD in April 2007 called Starbucking.

Great! That's just Starbucking Great! My story! Nano!!

Now what to do?! How can I fix my story?


Oh, and if you should want to read about with him, Winter, and his Starbucking ways:

http://www.palmbeachpost.com/news/content/accent/epaper/2007/01/21/a1d_starbucks_guy_0121.html?cxtype=rss&cxsvc=7&cxcat=2

One Day

It was a great day.

We had lunch at McDonald's, and he got a red hummer toy. He ate two grape tomatoes, 4 chicken nuggets, french fries, milk, and a cookie.

We held hands in the kitchen and danced to country music. I twirled him back and forth as we danced and laughed.

We made smoothies together. He added the yogurt, the milk, the bananas he cut himself, and the raspberry in syrup. I whirled it together, and we split our creation. I said, "Oishii!" And taught him what it meant in Japanese.

He "washed" dishes beside me, having fun pouring soapy water through a funnel.

We put together his new 101 Dalmations puzzle which we found at the Salvation Army for 50 cents.

We played preschool, Disney's online preschool (so awesome!).

He got a Rolo and later some mini M&Ms for going shi-shi and NOT complaining about it.

He took a bubble bath.

I read him a story starring Mickey Mouse and Goofy (that I also got from the Salvation Army).

Then daddy and I kissed him goodnight.

I wonder if my son will remember.

Screw You!

While Zorro was in the bath yesterday, he wanted to blow bubbles. I gave him the bubble wand.

He ended up hooking the circle part of the wand over his thumb. Then he turned it around and around his thumb like you would if you were using a wrench.

He says, "Look mom! I'm screwing myself!"

My Story

Since many of you have asked, and I just happen to like you ("Artist", Kim, Sherry, Beth...ah, my public!)...I am giving you a glimpse of what I am working on. It has no title, and no set path yet. My story is leading me as I write; my characters are telling me who they want to be, not who I want them to be. Remember, this is just a glimpse. And if you don't want to read (since some of you also didn't ask), turn away now! I said "NOW!"

Sorry. You snooze you lose. Did I mention I had a time limit?

Plotter or Pantser

According to eHarlequin, there are two types of writers: the plotter and the pantser. 2 weeks ago, I would have told you I was a plotter. I'm the geeky type. I try to be organized. I have my index cards ready to go. I frequently make lists of lists on Excel. I thought I was a plotter. Until I read that article on eHarlequin.

And started writing my stories, yet again.

This time was different. This time I just wrote. And instead of getting stuck on page one, I have made it to page three! So what is different?

I'm doing the panster method. I'm writing by flying by the seat of my pants. It means I'm not getting caught up with the details like what is my character's motivation and where did she go to high school and what was the name of her favorite pet.

I'm writing like I would write my poetry. I'm letting the words come to me, listening to the voice in my head that tells me this sounds right.

I'm finding that as I write, as I fly, "fly into the mist", my characters are developing. I'm not forcing them to be someone...they are chosing who they want to be.

For the first time, I feel like I'm on the right path. I'm flying.

So with a broken wing, here I go...

Mr. Dan Mailman

Today Zorro and I watched our mailman, Mr. Dan, put the mail in all the boxes for our townhome complex. Zorro tells Mr. Dan, "You are smart to do this job."

Mr. Dan lets him close the mailbox when he is finished.

Flattery works everytime.

Zorro strikes again

I hear Zorro.

Zorro is calling me from his nap and singing "Ain't going down till the sun come up."

I hope that's not true.

Revelations

I am resolved to get cracking at my writing. It's the one constant in my life. Like an unrequited love, something will trigger a memory, and I will find myself back with pen and paper in hand hoping to fill the page with my creative musings.

I determined I have two things holding me back.

1. I love to procrastinate.
2. I have a bad memory.

So how does that equate to not writing? Usually my best thoughts, those brilliant phrases, storylines, come to me when I cannot grab a pen and write. I'm in the shower, doing the dishes, driving, or trying to sleep. I tell myself, remember, remember, remember...I repeat the words to imprint them on my brain...and I put off the writing.

It doesn't matter if it's hours or mere minutes. I will inevitably forget what I wanted to write. I may remember the gist, but I won't remember that most incredible compilation of words. And when I have my pen and paper, all I come up with is crap. I have tried carrying paper around and all my collection of pens (I have a pen fetish...it's not the expense or the look, but how the ink flows onto the paper...you understand...oh yeah, you don't have a f**t fetish, STU :P). And I hate the way my handwriting looks. Blah blah blah...but I am determined. This is my year to get my ass in gear (since I now have my ass in the right size) to get the writing started if not done. I will write more than 3 pages of my novel this year. I know, not much of a goal it would seem, but I've got lots of one page beginnings so to get to 3 pages would be a huge accomplishment for me.

Finally having lost the weight, having won the battle of the bulge(s), I feel empowered. I feel like if ever I was to get this done, it would be NOW!

Wish me luck!

So I wanna be a writer...

My plan to getting published:

1. Write
2. Repeat step 1 daily until finished
3. Submit to publisher
4. Repeat step 3 until accepted
5. Celebrate
6. Repeat step 1

I'm screaming!

Eating ice cream (even a little) everynight is not conducive to maintaining my weightloss.

Primping for my Date

Playdate is essentially that. A date. It's not just play. At least it doesn't feel like that to me as I got ready for the big event at my house.

It feels very much like a real date. The kind of date you'd have with someone you have a romantic interest in.

You are hoping to cultivate it into something more. Something meaningful than just a one-date type of thing.

So I cleaned the house...the living room, the bathroom, the kitchen... all those rooms that my guests may wander into. (In this case, I know the bedroom is safe so I get to leave it mussed.) I know it is about appearances no matter what "they" say.

I make sure the clutter is gone, the toys are stacked. I need my house to reflect how I am as a mother...and as a person. Even if my child and hers are great friends, we will not necessarily become great friends. Especially if she thinks I am a slob and have poor hygiene as well as poor parenting skills.

I want to make a great impression, because I like her. I like her son. I hope we have many more playdates together. I hope we become good friends. Which is why I have been on my hands and knees for the last two days cleaning the toilet and the floors, cleaning mirrors and picking up specks of lint off the carpet.

Because as much as my son needs a friend to play with, so do I.

Calling all Cars fans

As I have mentioned before, Zorro enjoys the movie Cars. So here are a few of his commonly heard quotes:

"I eat losers for breakfast."
"I'm so not taking you to dinner."
"You do the road my way."
"Case dismissed."
"Comprendo?"
"Ka-chow. Ka-pow."
"No! Not the face."
"No, no, no, no tires just gas."
"If you're going hard enough left, you'll find yourself right."
"Crazy Grandpa driver!"

Pictures of his room:

And he loves to sing...
from Sheryl Crow:

"Hold on. You're gunna crash. Baby you'll be screaming it's a blast
blast blast.."

and from Rascal Flatts (That's my country boy!):

"Life is a highway. I'm gunna drive it all my lonely..."

(He doesn't know the words so he makes up his own.)

and also Sh-Boom and Route 66 (both versions on the Cars CD).

We've got almost all the diecast cars. I know we are missing Lizzie and Sarge. Possibly New Mater, but I'd have to check my stash (my collection of toys he earns for doing a great job...he gets one toy on Saturday, so he is always asking..."Is it Saturday?"). We also have the Cars blanket, underwear, pajamas, stickers, tattoo, scooter, and McDonald's Cars toys and a few other Cars related toys.

Cars! Cars! Cars!

Well, I guess it could be worse...

Girls! Girls! Girls!

Thank God he is three!

Hair Coloring

I want to color my hair.

One day.

Blue or purple.

Koolaid is supposed to do the trick. Did you know Koolaid makes invisible juice now?

Clear Koolaid.

I don't think that would work.

Unless your hair turns invisible...which sounds cool in theory, but in practice I think you'd just look bald.

Work at home

Yesterday I tried to get my little guy...

You know what? I'm tired of saying "my son" or "my little guy". He has earned a nickname from one of my buddies...on account of the pictures I post of him. So from here on out he is... Zorro.

So let's start over...

Yesterday I tried to get Zorro to do his "homework" with me. Hoping to keep him up to date with other kids, I am trying to make sure we learn our alphabets and numbers, counting, phonics, prewriting and all those other important three R skills. I had my worksheet out which required him drawing straight lines, and was trying to get him interested in doing the work.

He tells me, "No, mom. You can do it yourself. By yourself."

Uhh, nice try kid.

So we muddle through it. We tried counting next. Kids at this age don't hold anything back. When they don't want to do something, you know it. Falling back in his chair. Deep sighs. Emotions written across his face and covering his whole body. Body language, indeed!

Time to break out the weapons.

Now I'm sure someone will tell me what I did was wrong. But frankly, I don't care. In this case, the ends do justify the means.

I put out 4 yogurt lids*. On each lid I put a certain number of...the secret weapon..mini M&Ms. Let me tell you, one glance at the M&Ms and his interest was hooked! Rules of the game... Which lid has the most M&Ms? Count them and tell me how many M&Ms there are. If you get them correct, you eat the M&Ms.

Ahh, the sweet taste of success!

And no, I didn't have any M&Ms myself. I am stronger than chocolate. Most of the time.


*Yogurt lids. Were you wondering about that? Why does she have plastic yogurt lids? I'll tell you why whether you were curious or not. First, I save the whole container, not just the lids. They make great little containers for toddler snacks. You can fit stars, goldfish, pretzels... all those good things, and they don't get crushed like they would in a plastic bag. And, you could use the containers for paint with the little ones or use them as "cookie" cutters with Playdough. The lids also make great paint holders if you are using thick paints like fingerpaints. Lots of possible uses. Especially if you ask a pack ratter. FYI, I've also saved snack-sized applesauce cups for paints too. Cheap and disposable.

Fingerpainting at Home

The Beauty of 3

My son is 3 years old.

I realized again, last night, what a special this time is.

When else would I be able to threaten him with dire consequences?

"If you don't behave, mommy will NOT let you help her wash the dishes."

Testing...one two three

Today it has been one test after another. The little stinker is doing all the things he knows he shouldn't. Like touching this. And that. Making crumbs fly. Loud voices in the library. (I wish it were all in my head!) Acting up (and out!).

Test. After. Freaking. Test. And I'm not so sure I'm passing it.

When I am talking to him and trying to correct him, he keeps saying "Yes, mom. Yes, mom."

It is sounding suspiciously like "Yes, dear. Yes, dear."

I just have this feeling all he is hearing is "Wah wah wah. Wah wah wah."

In one ear, out the other.

Oh dear.

Little Stinker

At Albertsons yesterday, people kept telling me how sweet my little boy was.

For the most part, he is. I'm not going to lie to you.

BUT (you knew there had to be one), you see, I think he has learned that being sweet when you are being naughty soooo helps.

So he is in one of those wagons for kids that is shaped like a car. He is "driving" and we are going down the bread isle. I see him pushing the breads back so I scold him. He has already been scolded several times for sticking himself out of the "car", warned that he would get hurt. I think to myself, enough is enough. I take him out and put him in the front of the wagon. I tell him that if he is not going to act like a "big boy" and doesn't listen to me, then he doesn't get to sit in the "car" like a big boy.

So he is sitting there, and now says "Mom, I don't know how to behave. Can you teach me how to behave?" and "Mom, I'm listening now" and of course "Mom, I'm sorry". All of this being said in just a sweet voice.

Little stinker.

And after a little while, mom lets him try again to be a "big boy". Can you say "SUCKER?"

On dad

On our way home from art class on Monday:

"Mom, is dad at home?"
"No, dad's at work."
"Aww, I'm going to be miss him."

Outta his mouth

Singing...

"M-I-C.....K-E-Y.....I'm all you can see. Mickey Mouse. Dot da
dot. Mickey Mouse. Dot da dot."

______________________________________

One of our recent conversations:
Me: "What shall we do today?"
Him: "Hmm...let me think. I know let's play outside."
Me: "That's a great idea!"
Him: "You bet!"

______________________________________

When something not so great happens...

"That's just great!"

and not so fair...

"That's not fair!"

Pimples

Pimples are a good example of the pitfalls in life.

Pimples are irritating. Not the huge ones that seem to erupt on your face. Not the ones that seem to draw everyone's eyes to that one spot. I'm talking about the ones that people can't see.

I see those questions in your eyes. What is she talking about?!

Let me jog your memory. Remember that pimple you had on the inside of your nose? Inside. I'm talking about way inside. You knew it was there. You could feel its nagging presence with every inhale. Sometimes it would hurt. But it was there. And what could you do about it? Pop it? You try squeezing from the outside. No luck. Just more pain. So can you get it from the source? No, unreachable. So you just suffer through it, hoping it would heal quickly.

And that pimple on your ass? The one that sits right where your panty (or briefs) meets the curve of your butt. The one that gets rubbed by your panty and hurts so you are forced to go pantiless. (Is that a word?) And who really wants to do that? So you don't, instead forcing yourself to bear with the pain. And that just really sucks.

Those are the irritating pimples.

And so as you know, I like to keep things short and sweet. I'll end by saying: Beware of the hidden pimples in your life.

Nice Try

My son was running in the house.
I know. What the hell kind of parent am I?!

He heads towards some steps, trips, and hits his shins on the step. Very "Auwie!" since those steps are made of marble. So he starts to cry.

My husband comforts him for a few minutes. Then it's my turn.

As I hold him, he looks at me with hound dog eyes and says in a teary voice, "May I have a toy to make me not cry?"
I know. What the hell kind of parent am I?

The kind of parent who knows when to bribe and when not to.

Abracadabra

Last night my son was up late. We listened to him talking to himself via the baby monitor.

He was saying "Abracadabra. Abracadabra."

Must have been enhancing his magic making skills.

He is magic, you know.

I know.

How else can he bring so much magic into my life?

I know more than you think!

Grandpa and grandma sent my son a "Lightning McQueen" remote car.

You program the car by pushing buttons on the top of Lightning. You can program him to do 15 things in a row. Some are talking things, and some are movements.

One night I am in the kitchen with my husband and my son is with his toy. My son had not been taught how to play with Lightning yet but we can hear him pushing buttons. Then we hear the car tell him he has pushed 15 commands in, and it is waiting for him to push the button for it to start the programs.

I tell my son to push the green button to make it start. My husband says there are TWO green buttons. So I tell my son, "Press the button that has the letter 'G' and the letter 'O'".

McQueen starts to GO!! My husband was quite impressed at our boy.

I was like "KA-CHOW!"

With Love

Today marks one year.

One year that a child has been without her mother. One year that a husband has been without his wife. One year that a sister has been without her sister. One year that a mother has been without her daughter. One year that a grandmother has been without her granddaughter.

Nothing will ever be the same.

I wish I could tell you differently. I wish I could make all your pain and sadness go away.

I can only say I grieve when you grieve. I will remember her too.

E.Q.

Yesterday my son and I were outside "playing". Our neighbor Miss Madeleine came outside to get to her car. (We had seen her the day before and she told us she had been feeling sick for a few days.) She stopped to say "hello" and before I could even offer her a greeting, my 3 year old asks her if she was feeling better.

I was so surprised.

Not only was I surprised, but I was impressed and flooded with such pride.

Before and After

December 2005

December 2006

Molten Chocolate Lava Cake

My son sitting on my lap, touching my face with his little hand, pressing our cheeks together and hearing him say, "We're best friends."