The Adventures of Mommy Maestro

Pixar Cars Sequel....Disapointment

2011-07-04T20:53:00.003-04:00

At last, the long awaited sequel to Cars had arrived. We had been talking about this day for at least a year when we saw the very first preview.

So there I was with my husband and the boys waiting in line for tickets. It was insisted that we must see the 3D version despite my apprehension of 3D movies.

See, I come from a time when I remember Jaws 3D being the "big thing." It was when 3D glasses were still made out of cardboard and weighed a mere ounce. Not these gigantic "Revenge of the Nerds" one size fits all frames they hand out to everyone, then expect back at the end of the flick (as if I have any other use for them).

I remember that darn shark exploding at the end of the movie. Every piece flew out of the screen waiting for the audience to give it a catch. It's likely the children of today would break into hysterics with what we thought at the time were "excellent" special effects.

Let me first say, I loved the first Cars movie. I loved the characters, the story, the jokes. The sequel...not so much. The story itself was a bit complex for kids (just my opinion, but a valid one). The jokes at many times were aimed at the adults; not the kids. The movie itself was a bit too long (1 hour 47 minutes). To the crying boy sitting at the opposite end of our row: "I was also crying on the inside."

Disney is generally not one to disappoint, but I have to say, that is exactly what happened this time. But wait, I'm not about to give up. Heck, it's only July 4th. Did somebody mention Smurfs the movie? Count me in!

How Far Would You Go To Save Your Kids?

2011-06-21T06:30:00.003-04:00

The current Cassie Anthony case has public opinion stirring. "Where did those parents go wrong?" "Is it really the parents fault?" "Just how far would we go for our kids?"

All these questions are legitimate. But what was shocking was an episode of the View I caught a week ago. I know I wasn't the only one who was stunned by a certain comment Joy Behar made since it was all over the Internet the following day.

I nearly froze when she stated that if she had to she would lie on the stand for her child to save her.

"Really Joy?" Just exactly what are we saving her from when such actions on your part come down to nothing short of pathetic.

I feel lucky not to be in those parents shoes. And I can't imagine the pain they are going through daily. However, if it came down to me lying on the stand in order to "save" my child; I would decline.

I don't think the definition of "saving" includes promoting dishonesty. Especially when you have spent the majority of their lives teaching the opposite.

We all make mistakes. And indeed, if my child had done something terribly wrong or brought harm to someone else; I would be there as his mother, not his advocate.

There are consequences to our decisions...sometimes good, sometimes bad. But in any event, if it were our decisions, then it must be our consequences.

Filling In The Gaps (A Tribute to Daddies)

2011-06-19T18:12:00.003-04:00

We just returned from dinner to celebrate Father's Day. It was a chance to get out with my husband and the kids, and thank him for everything he does.

We don't often speak about the "everything" that Dad's do, because let's face it, that's our role. We cook, we clean, we mend boo boo's etc. etc. Dad's get to stroll in after work, eat dinner, watch a little TV, then head to bed for some restful sleep. At many times, it seems unfair.

But as I sit and ponder about the whole picture, I realize we work well as a team. Many days, Dad's just get to fill in the gaps. But it is those gaps that could easily turn into holes if they weren't around.

I watched over the weekend as my husband ran a bath for my boys, gave chase through a crowded Chuckee Cheese, made 5 gallons of lemonade for their Alex's Lemonade benefit, combed hair and washed faces.

It's often so hard to recognize these helpful moments when you're constantly running in circles yourself. Help comes in many forms. As mother's, if we don't see a vacuum or a bottle of Pledge in their hand; if they don't smell like bleach or begin to babble after speaking "child" all day...they have failed to accomplish anything.

I'm am thankful everyday for the little things in my life. Even if I do have to wait for the weekends. I am thankful for the "gaps."

If It's Not Glued Down...It Will Be Taken!

2011-06-14T10:23:00.003-04:00

I once wrote for my blog every two days or so. Funny how one lifestyle change can bring about so much additional change.

Case in point: I returned to my blog last week only to find my background had disappeared. Further research led me to discover the company that supplied my design had apparently gone out of business. And so, they took my design with them.

I may have received some notice, although I must have misplaced that memo.

When I quit my job, the only thing I was allowed to take with me was the shoes I walked in on. And of course, my infamous Pez collection. No one seemed to be fazed by that one since every time a good wind would blow through the office, my precious Pez's would turn into a game of domino's. Ahh, memories!!

Most companies even frown on a pencil leaving the property. But when surveyed, most workers will admit to taking more than that.

Thinking back at some of the jobs I've held over the years, the only thing I was ever interested in leaving with was my mind. Turns out, a few years later, the kids claimed that as their own as well.

I'm Back!!!

2011-05-23T06:35:00.002-04:00

Well, it's been a while folks. As I take a look at my blog it's hard to believe that I haven't written a word since Groundhog Day. And if you read that post, you can see why I'm still holding a grudge against that darn animal.

If you're wondering just what I've been up to, well, it's like this: "Starting a business takes crazy time". And like most Mom's, I have a hard time realizing just how much I can take on.

Although I somehow manage to put a dent in house work by the end of the week, it is those days when the refrigerator starts ringing that I get worried. Yes, that's right, I put the phone in the refrigerator. Luckily, shelf room is limited, and the children were playing safely outside. (There's a silver lining to every story.)

My goal is to get back to where I was and attempt to leave some daily updates. I mean who doesn't want to hear antics such as: "Me Against the Birds," "Getting In Shape Before You Go To The Gym," and "Did Anyone See My Coffee Cup?"

I've come to the conclusion that age plays a great role in confusion. So I've decided to kick that bucket list into high gear. At least until I stop substituting salt for sugar in my morning coffee.

No Mercy For the Groundhog

2011-02-21T20:33:00.004-05:00

And just when I'm getting used to seeing my lawn for the first time since last month; God goes and pulls a quick one on me. As I walked by the television tonight I read the words: Winter Storm Warning.

"What the hell?" I thought. Sure, I live in Pennsylvania. Sure it's still officially Winter. But did anyone catch that 70 degree day we had last week?

It only takes one hot day to get me in Spring mood. I already visualized the opening of the pool, umbrella drinks and Reggae playing in the background. And now I must return to snow boots, shovels and frostbite.

Despite growing up in PA, I find nothing remotely respectable about winter. While I chisel ice from my windshield with a credit card, I anxiously await sunshine.

And while most of my neighbors will be dressed in long johns plus 2 additional layers tomorrow, I am ready to set up a lounge chair.

I may not be looking forward to waking up in the morning to 3 plus inches of snow, but I'll plow through. The only one enjoying any warmth tomorrow will be that damn ground hog. Who by the way, should be prosecuted to the full extent of the law for this stunt.

Has Anyone Seen My Ginko Biloba?

2011-02-09T20:38:00.005-05:00

There are a lot of things I miss that I no longer have since I decided to have kids. But I think the thing I miss the most is my mind.

I shouldn't complain... I was warned. Well, sort of. I mean we've all heard of how women become forgetful when they're pregnant. I've heard that our brains actually shrink (This statement has not been approved by the FDA).

In any event, it so happens that what is lost is lost forever. Although I've tried to recapture that once youthful mind, it has refused to cooperate.

And so I'm left doing things like attempting to make coffee the other morning without water. (Even Juan Valdez himself would get a chuckle out of that one). And then there was the time I wasted wondering why my check for the American Express bill never cleared. Had it not been for that new purse I bought this week, I may never had realized that the stamped envelope was still waiting to be mailed by yours truly, and was filed nicely inside my wallet (Hello Late Fee).

So when Christina Aguilera flubbed the Star Spangled Banner at the Super Bowl this past week, I have to admit, I laughed a little. No wait, I laughed a lot.

I didn't bother ridiculing her like the rest of the world. Although a teleprompter may have been the way to go. While most of us can still remember Christina from her Mousekeeter Days, we have to admit that she is all grown up. And, she is a Mom. And we can only blame her forgetfulness on one thing: Brain Shrinkage!

And she wasn't the only one. In a bizarre attempt to copyright her own name, Mrs. Sarah Palin forgot to sign her own name to the bottom of the paperwork. Despite the irony, and the hundred or so Palin jokes that come to mind, it still comes back to the same reason: She's a Mom/Brain Shrinkage.

I've heard much about the supplement Ginko Biloba. Some research finds that it helps with forgetfulness. My recent issues with cerebral insufficiency have led me stumbling through medical journals and Googling words like: Brain Shrinkage, Blockhead and Charlie Brown. Despite whatever side effects may come along with this magical potion; I've realized I'm at the point of no return. Tomorrow becomes insufficient vocabulary if I can't remember today.

My only fear now? "Where did I put that bottle of Ginko Biloba?"

When Daddies Are Left In Charge

2011-01-30T20:40:00.002-05:00

Last week was pretty crumby at the Brennan Ranch. Aside from the 2 snow storms, early dismissals, and snow days...I had a cold.

There are few things in this world that bother me as much as when I get sick. Asking for help is generally my last resort; but by Wednesday, I knew I needed it...Bad!

It's funny how easy our efforts are taken for granted on a regular basis. I sometimes wonder if most Mom's realize what they accomplish during the day. I sure didn't.

I was awoken from my drunken NyQuil stupor at 5:30am by Hubby to inform me that the kids were off from school due to the storm. At 6:30 I was awoken again to inform me that he had made a mistake...the kids really had school. He also needed to know what time to bring the kids to school.

I could see the panic in his eyes. I have seen my husband multi task at his job. He is genius. But take away his computer, and he turns to goo.

By 7:30 am, I decided to check on the family. I found the breakfast table covered in Pop-Tart remnants (The breakfast of Champions). The boys were in pretty good shape. Hubby was too. It's funny how I can spend my whole morning running around, but when I check on my Husband, he is watching the morning news.

It wasn't until 10 minutes before the kids were about to leave for school, that I realized there was no lunch packed. And it's not like my kids would tell Hubby.

They were finally off. I could get the rest I needed. Right? Not really.

As I sat on the couch, the snow continued to fall harder. Finally we received an email that informed us the children would be coming home early.

"What? They just got there." I thought. What is going on? Well, you know what that means. Mommy had to get into the shower so that she could accompany Daddy back to school. Since the school has different dismissal policies for different situations, I knew my husband was 2 minutes shy of having his head explode. And so I returned the favor and helped out.

I did get to crash on the couch later that day. I woke up wondering how long I was down. The mailbox had literally disappeared under a pile of snow. School was cancelled again on Thursday. No rest for the weary.

It's now Sunday night, and they're calling for 2 more storms this week. And while I may not be running at 100%, I am back on my feet. Hubby is headed back to work, and the kids will be back at school.

We're praying that the storms go in a different direction. But just in case were home bound again, we have a fresh supply of Pop-Tarts waiting in the pantry.

When a Christmas Gift Bites Back

2011-01-17T20:13:00.006-05:00

Christmas shopping for me begins in late August. Yes, it's true. I'm a bit insane. However, nothing pleases me more than to know when the Christmas season finally arrives, I am more than half way done my shopping. Not to mention, the gifts are even wrapped.

For the most part, the kids are still easy to shop for. They tell you everything they want. It's just up to us to cut the list in half (once or twice), then hope Santa figures out the rest.

But when it comes to Husbands...I'm totally stumped. We are at a point in our lives where we have everything we need. Accumulating more just means throwing out what we already have. Occasionally I'm thrown a bone though.

My husband loves to watch the Food Channel. I find it entertaining myself (sometimes). I'm always amazed that even in the tiniest of kitchens; they seem to have everything they need to make a meal for a party of twelve. I have a hard time cooking for four.

Despite this, Hubby insist on having gadgets. So when he mentioned he wanted a mandolin- I was only a little surprised. First because I thought he was referring to the musical instrument. (This coming from a man that is perplexed by a kazoo). I finally realized he was referring to a vegetable slicer.

I hesitated slightly at his request based simply on luck. Yes, I said luck. Let's just say, Hubby didn't exactly pass "Safety Class" with flying colors. Here are a few examples: During driving school he plowed right into the back of another car (with the instructor in the passenger seat); while installing a patio in our back yard, he put the utility knife right through his knee (Stitches!), While taking down Christmas decorations he fell off a ladder (Broken Arm), While searching under a perfectly still sink, he came up and hit his head (Huge Knot).

So like the loving woman I am...I bought him a sharp object. And like the brave man he is; he decided to use it for the first time while I was out of the house. And if you're hoping for a happy ending; well you should have read a fairytale instead.

The call kind of went like this: "Do you remember that Christmas gift you bought me Babe?"

And I already knew. Luckily, all of his digits were still attached. However, based on the amount of band aids and paper towels missing; the loss of blood was significant.

Well, tomorrow is trash day. Needless to say, there will be a mandolin curbside.

I can hardly wait to find out what he wants next Christmas. I'm thinking a padded room will suffice.

Another Snow Storm

2011-01-12T08:51:00.003-05:00

Sledding and Snow Angels today in PA. Happy Children.....No School!

Prayers for Tuscon

2011-01-10T07:16:00.004-05:00

Only thoughts and prayers today for those in Tuscon AZ. Life is precious. It should not be so easily taken.

Join in the moment of silence today at 11am Eastern Time.

"There are only two forces in the world, the sword and the spirit. In the long run the sword will always be conquered by the spirit." -Napolean Bonaparte

It Pays to Shop!

2011-01-07T12:54:00.004-05:00

With the holidays finally over; who couldn't use a little extra cash?

Why not try InboxDollars? Inbox Dollars is a unique website that gives you a chance to earn cash for completing tasks.

We all know how quickly our own inbox can fill up with unwanted emails. But did you ever consider that you could get paid to read email? You can at InboxDollars.

Think about how many times you made a purchase online during the holidays. At InboxDollars, you can actually get paid to shop online. It's just that easy.

So why not start today? Simply click the icon on my right sidebar. Fill out the short registration, and begin earning your first dollars!

The 12 Days of Christmas Vacation

2011-01-03T06:36:00.004-05:00

It's hard to believe that the Christmas season is finally done. Two months of preparation for one day, and it's over in the blink of an eye.

I sit here savoring the final minutes of peace before I have to wake the kids up for their first day back to school.

"What is school?" I'm sure they will ask. Their last week has been filled with a shocking amount of toy play, junk food, television and day trips. What kid would want to return to school?

I'm finding myself asking: "What is routine?" I lost all sense of routine these past 10 days. I was even able to get a cold and relax. Imagine That. Although I felt like poo at times, it was real nice watching my husband do wash.

Sad how we have to depend on vacation to get caught up on life... but that's exactly what we did. And I enjoyed every minute of it.

How was your vacations?

Happy New Years!

2010-12-31T08:45:00.003-05:00

I'm not a big believer in resolutions. By January 30th, most people who have made a resolution have already broken it or forgotten exactly what they were shooting for in the first place. This includes myself Folks.

So instead of focusing on 365 days; I've decided to take it one day at a time. My key word this year is "Good."

"Good friends, good times, good health, and good choices."

I've come to realize that focusing on good health is alot easier than focusing on that 15 pounds that refuses to leave my side (or my butt for that matter).

Good friends are hard to come by. But I've been fortunate enough to be surrounded by good acquaintances. This is a great time to take a good look at the company you keep. Have they been as great of a friend to you as you have been to them? If not, then ask just one question: "Why are you keeping them?"

It really comes down to good choices. Will we regret tomorrow the decisions we make today? I'm hoping not.

2010 was a tough year. It brought about alot of change for me and those around me. And while I look forward to change; I realize that it will take more than a change of date to bring about some real change.

So let's raise our glasses Ladies. Here's to 2012. May all your dreams come true!

If Only I Asked for a Shovel

2010-12-25T18:18:00.003-05:00

I usually wouldn't think about writing during a holiday. But after my husband decided to view Despicable Me with the family; I called it a night. And although it's only 6:30 Eastern Time, I'm winding down at the speed of light.

The children decided to check if Santa arrived at 6:20 am. And while the excitement of Christmas is overwhelming, I have hit the age where I finally understand why coffee is considered a remarkable drug.

The first 2 hours of the morning were spent unwrapping presents, catching that perfect picture on a camera that refuses to flash until our child has already left the room, sipping cold coffee, and reading directions in 4 different languages and hoping one will help you get that toy together. Ahhh, Christmas!!!

All in all, things were perfect. And nothing beats a day together with the family. Unless of course you find out from the National Weather Station that a snow blizzard is heading your way tomorrow. Now that's fantastic!

Actually, you got to love it when the weather station tells you you're going to get anywhere between 7 and 12 inches of snow with 30 mile an hour winds. You look around and realize that Santa remembered everything but snow boots for the kids. Talk about practical. Not to worry. I'm sure we can dig out with the new Nintendo DS's. Or shall I say: "We'll be digging out while the kids play their Nintendo DS'S. Can't Wait.

Well, I hope everyone out there had a wonderful Christmas. And if you live in PA.......Happy Digging!

Why I Love Black Friday!!

2010-11-28T20:57:00.004-05:00

To my loyal readers I must apologize. I haven't written in a month. Not because I haven't thought of you all, but rather, I have been training for the big day. Black Friday that is.

And while training may have begun the day after Halloween, the day came and went quicker than expected.

Coupons and store maps in hand, the alarm rung at 3am. And off I headed into uncharted territory. Not really, but it sounded like a good beginning for a story.

Actually, as tradition would have it, I brought my Mother along and my running shoes (equally as important that day).

I would advise anyone who takes on this adventure to have a plan. Start with a list of people to buy for. Decide on the perfect gifts. Search flyers. Investigate opening times. Check bank balances (one can easily get carried away, i.e.- "It wasn't my fault. The purple sweater whispered to me").

And while I may be the topic of jokes in my family ("I heard Mary was at the Mall before Last Call was even served.") My madness has served me well. For the simple task of waking up before the roosters; I have managed to save thousands of dollars....No Joke!

And what have I done with all my new found fortunes you ask? Well, I bought a brand new pair of running shoes.

Enjoy Training:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=POwG7udjg_Y

Halloween Is Just For Kids...Not!

2010-11-01T06:44:00.008-04:00

Well another Halloween has finally passed. All this preparation; and it's over in a matter of hours. Is it worth it? You betcha!

There are very few people that face Halloween with as much enthusiasm as myself. I have a hard time understanding why. I mean it wasn't that long ago that we all marched through our neighborhoods with larger than life pillowcases hoping for the "Mother Load" of all candy. And yet somehow over the years we have lost our luster.

Maybe it's just about passing the torch. I know how it makes me feel when I see my children all dressed up and ready to hit the streets. They can barely sit for dinner, let alone stay by my side as we visit the many houses for treats.

If you were one of the lucky ones who viewed the Halloween episode of Modern Family this year, you would understand exactly where I'm coming from. It is that exact excitement that takes over my whole being come the first of October until the big finale on the 31st.

So when my sister proposed the idea of dressing up as the ghost of Abraham Lincoln, I felt it was only right that she needed a John Wilkes Booth. And yes, that is us in the picture. Please give her all the credit for the makeup. My talent ends with baking cookies.

No, we didn't bother anyone for candy. That shipped sailed long ago. However, celebrating Halloween with a great costume is right up my alley. Luckily, my sister holds the same belief.

There were some great costumes out there last night. But few stood up to Lincoln and Booth. I only wish there were more grown ups who continued their Halloween spirit into adult years.

Take it from me. You'll have a great time!

Thirty Six Wishes

2010-10-27T07:11:00.005-04:00

In less than 24 hours I will be another year older. The thing I noticed about turning 36 is that it really isn't significant. Don't believe me? Check out any birthday card kiosk. It is there that you will find a card for 35 and 40. But if you are a little off the beaten path...let's say 36, Forget It!

So in honor of all that is wrong with this age, I decided to keep with trends and make 36 wishes. I mean why should I only get one. It's really unfair to the other 35 candles that lined up to celebrate as well.

Hold on to your hats ladies. After you're done reading this list, you'll wish you were 36 today too.

I wish for:

1) World Peace (This is strictly a default answer for when it's time to go to my final resting place, and God wants to know why I was so greedy on my 36th Birthday).

2) A visit from Manola Blahnik stating he has the perfect size 11 shoe just for me.

3) Soft toilet paper in Mall bathrooms (face it, the urge only happens when our arms are loaded with clothes).

4) Clothes Dryers with a self-folding option. (My oven has a self cleaning option..what gives?)

5) Meet Oprah Winfrey.

6) Road construction that is performed between midnight and 4 am. (Let's face it, they're never going to finish anyway. What's a few less hours on the job?)

7) A grocery cart where all 4 wheels work.

8) A dozen roses for that guy who cut me off the other day. (Judging by his middle finger, his day was worse than mine).

9) A Fast Line at the grocery store that actually deserves the name.

10) A Personal Chef, or at least someone with enough patience that could show me how to cook. ("Paging Rachel Ray. Attention, Mrs. Ray.")

11) A Christmas List from my children that does not require a second mortgage.

12) A beautiful sunset, and time to watch it.

13) More "great" teachers.

14) Less rudeness.

15) More kindness.

16) A world where it's safe to let our children run outside.

17) A cup of hot cocoa (with fluff of course).

18) Schools with adequate budgets. (Where did your tax money go this year?)

19) Politicians who care just as much about this country as my grandparents did.

20) The right to speak one's mind- even if it isn't always "politically correct."

21) A comfortable pair of sneakers.

22) A car that rides like a Cadillac but requires the payment of a Kia.

23) A hot air balloon ride.

24) A third arm. (If you're a Mom; you understand).

25) A family portrait.

26) Curiosity.

27) Good health.

28) A warm bath.

29) A piece of delicious chocolate, with the calories of a tic tac.

30) A smaller butt.

31) Wisdom. (To understand only exercise will assist Wish #30)

32) A share in Apple Stock. (Dear Mr. Gates, I've been real good this year...)

33) The ability to be present in every moment.

34) Be a good friend, a good wife, a great Mom.

35) Pay it Forward.

36) Be grateful. Even if I only get one wish on my list, I am still the luckiest woman I know.

How I Miss 9 to 5

2010-10-19T20:06:00.003-04:00

Lately I've been missing nine to five. Back when I was a kid; that was your work hours. Unless of course you happened to be a farmer (then all bets were off). But if you were just a regular Joe, you could count on your Dad pulling in the driveway around 5:30pm. Mom would have dinner ready on the table. My siblings and I would see how fast we could scoff down our food so we could return to the backyard for some more play before the sun gave up for the day.

But things are different now. If you are one of the lucky ones who still have a job, you're holding on for dear life. Realizing that your pink slip may soon show up at the top of the pile, you no longer work to live, but must live to work.

The day is gone when Dad left for work sometime around 8:15 am. Some kids don't even get to see their Daddies in the morning. Unfortunately, some don't get to see their Mommies either.

If you think this way of life isn't affecting us; take a long hard look around you. When was the last time a stranger smiled at you, held a door, or borrowed sugar? When was the last time you sat down to dinner with the entire family, gone on vacation, or given up your place in line?

We are overtired, overworked, hurried, underpaid, overindulged, and blinded by simplicity. We have taken someone else's definition of who we "must" be, where we "must" be; and turned it into our own credo.

It's time to slow down, and to become happy once more.

How about you start tomorrow. Let's say 9 am.

No Thank You, I'll Do It Myself

2010-10-12T20:46:00.005-04:00

While I finished my breakfast and coffee this morning, I quickly scanned through my email. I noticed one that had come from my library. To my surprise, it was an overdue notice.

Now I was positive that I had returned our books. I remembered it so well in fact because I had counted the books twice before I left the house to make sure I had everything. I then drove to the library and threw all our books down the chute.

As it turns out, they received all the books but one. Which by the way was the audio selection my husband choose. Immediately I went into recovery mode. Maybe it had fallen out of the bag? Maybe it was under the car seat? Maybe the dog ate it?

With no luck I decided to head over to the library. And this is when it happened:

I approached the desk and kindly explained to the librarian my situation. I told her I had placed all the books in the bin at the same time, so I didn't understand how there was just one missing. And believe it or not, this is what came out of her mouth next:

"Well, did you look for it on the shelf?"

I was convinced at this point that the bun on her head had been pulled entirely too tight. All I could get out of my mouth was: "Really?"

Clearly she had witnessed me walk through the doors less than a minute ago. How she thought it was possible for me to have scanned the library for a book that was legitimately returned a week ago, but was now being held over my head with a $10 fine and a collection threat, was a mystery to me.

I was suddenly likening my library to one of those old abandoned buildings where some entrepreneur comes through in October and hires all the towns teenagers to dress the place up in cobwebs and black sheets then charge the public an unbelievable amount of money and convince them it's haunted.

My librarian was Head Ghoul.

Well in the spirit of all that is Halloween, I graciously went to search for my book. Since I realized said Head Ghoul's ass was stuck to said stool.

And guess what? That's right. I found it!

Luckily when I returned, Head Ghoul had vanished (Probably hanging upside down behind the book case). However, in her place was left a much kinder, gentler librarian who must have overheard my story.

She immediately scanned in the book and cleared off my card. And in the blink of an eye, I was no longer a Wanted Woman.

I try not to be of the mindset that "When you want the job done right, you have to do it yourself." I try to believe in people and their abilities, especially if they've been hired to do the job. However, when I was asked to go look for that book myself, I have to admit I was thrown for a loop.

I'm thinking next time I need to return some books; I'll just save everyone the trouble, and scan them in myself.

Bye Bye Character Underwear

2010-10-11T06:28:00.003-04:00

So there I was in Kohl's last week (enjoying the freedom that a 30% coupon gives one). When it was time to begin to shop for the boys.

I still love shopping for my kids. I realize one day soon, they will no longer want to wear the fashions that I have chosen for them. But until that day arrives (I was soon in for a surprise), I will continue one of my favorite "Mommy Jobs."
I had told the boys to follow Hubby so that they could pick out some new underwear. Within seconds, Scooter returned to show off the Scooby Doo and Transformer underwear that he just had to have. It's funny how some of the simplest of things can bring a smile to their faces.
Finally, Potter returned.
"I decided to get these," he said.
He handed me the package. "Wait a minute," I thought. Where's Scooby Doo, Sponge Bob, Spiderman?" They were absolutely plain.

"I didn't want the cartoon ones anymore, Mom."

What did I just hear? No cartoons. He still watches cartoons. Why doesn't he want them on his underwear? And just like that, I felt it. The overwhelming feeling that my son was growing up. And it was happening right in the middle of the underwear section at Kohls.

Suddenly I wanted to leave. Especially when I saw the look on Hubby's face. He was overjoyed. It was as if Potter just hit his first home run. I didn't get it. A guy thing I guess.

There are lots of first in a child's life, and for the most part, we look forward to them. This underwear thing caught me totally by surprise. And to be honest, I could have used another year!

Relax?...Really?

2010-09-20T06:19:00.003-04:00

With the kids back to school I had this notion that I may be able to relax just a bit. Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking.

Once September hits, it's like a whirlwind in the house. I like schedules. I like them a lot. But seriously, my day now consist of blocks. I've become a human daily planner.

"Where do I have to be at 11?" "Where do I have to be at 12?"

It's only the second week in and I'm terrified of forgetting things. I thought that I wouldn't have to worry about forgetfulness until menopause. Apparently it's sneaking up on me faster than I expected.

I was in Target yesterday, and all I really needed to get was a few supplies for the kids Religion class. It seemed simple enough. Would you believe they were out of pencil cases? I was convinced it was my fault. I just wasn't looking in the right place. But sure enough...no pencil cases. I probably would have stayed longer searching the isles up and down, but as I mentioned earlier about the blocks. I just didn't have the time.

After school today we have about an hour to eat dinner, do homework and change clothes so that we arrive at Karate practice in time. That is where I will spend 2 hours because my children can't possibly be in the same class. By the time we get home, it's bath time, pajamas, stories and bed time. This schedule is the same for Tuesdays as well.

The rest of the week consist of: Back to School Night, a vendor open house, a meeting for small business owners, two orders of cookies, a flea market and a neighborhood party. Am I a bit worried? You betcha.

Somehow, like every other mother out there pulling her hair out, I will make it. I may be bald by Saturday, but I will make it.

I Met The Pilates Gods

2010-09-15T06:38:00.002-04:00

No, I'm not kidding. Last night, my gym had a get acquainted night for members who wanted to learn more about their new Pilate's program.

As usual, I was early, so I was quickly greeted by the three most healthy people I had ever seen. And with my usual humor I couldn't help but ask: "How long before I get to look like you?" Well, that gave them all a laugh. But I was serious. I was ready to sign.

They were eager to show me the equipment, which I must warn you, I swear I saw in Silence of the Lambs. It's not exactly user-friendly. Unless of course you already belong to the Pilate's God Group. (I do not).

Before I knew it, my legs were in straps and my buttocks was gliding along a platform with wheels. There were pulleys, harnesses, and handles. One bad move and I thought I could easily be shot right into the pool.

On top of that shocking experience, I come to find out that the Pilate's Classes do not fall under my membership. I have to pay extra....Bummer!

So I'm left with a dilemma of some sort. Do I continue to do what I've been doing? Or do I jump in (glide) with both feet and try something new. I must say it beats those aerobic classes where everyone is huffing and puffing, anxiously looking for their asthma inhalers. And of course it beats running on the treadmill for a mile (Which believe me, I did the other day). I swore that my insides were sure to come detached, and smack against the wall behind me. What a sight that would have been.

I guess I've already made my decision. It's Pilate's Time!

It's Yard Sale Time Again

2010-09-13T06:30:00.005-04:00

This Saturday is our annual borough wide yard sale. And already I am finding myself overwhelmed. Unlike past years, I don't have the extra time to go through as much "stuff" as I was hoping to.

I still find it funny just how much junk ends up on my front lawn every year. No matter how well I did during the year at keeping clutter to a minimum, I'm still able to showcase a good amount of crap.

One neighbor actually asked me "Where does it all come from?" I was stunned. I was under the impression that anyone could have these sales. I didn't think twice last year when things like a Pilate's machine, ladder, and Halloween costumes were sprawled across my driveway. The hundreds of strangers that showed up, didn't seem to mind either.

So what's in store this year? Well, since we repainted the kids rooms this year, there will be lots of accessories to find. There will be the normal kids clothes that go quickly for just 50 cents a piece. And if you're looking for a beautiful patio table; stop on by. See, the measurements for the new gazebo we purchased didn't exactly allow for the table. So needless to say, that too will be on the lawn this weekend.

Oh, and let us not forget the cookies. It's the yard sale where our cookie company first got its start. For only $2. you can get a bag of delicious gourmet cookies. The kids will be manning their first lemonade stand, so if you're in the neighborhood, stop on by.

When Little Hands Let Go

2010-09-08T10:03:00.003-04:00

The alarm clock sounded at 5:45am. With so much to get done, I should have jumped right out of bed, but instead I decided to lay there just a few more minutes. I thought about the day ahead. It was the first day of school. And it's official, I now have the house to myself.

Most of our routine remained the same. We ate breakfast, made our beds, and watched a bit of T.V. The kids were even excited to help with our annual tradition of taking first day pictures on the front porch. Since Daddy had to go to work, I had to trust the kids to take turns with the camera so that I could take a picture with each child.

The ride to school was uneventful. And even when I thought the tears would begin...they never came from either child.

Potter, my new first grader, entered class with gusto. He waved as to say, "Go ahead Mom, I'm OK." And so I did. Ever so happy to have Scooter my kindergartner reach for my hand. Surprisingly, he never cried either. Although there were a few of his new friends that looked like they may not make it to the classroom door.

When it was time to wave goodbye, I did my best at giving my proudest smile.

By the time I had reached the car, I was a sloppy mess. I knew this would pass, but so had all those firsts and lasts in a blink of an eye: "The first day of First Grade," "The first day of Kindergarten," and "The last time I helped button 2 shirts in one day."

When I returned home I quickly pulled out the camera to review this mornings pictures. I should have expected that when you hand a camera to your child, you don't always get what you expect. So there I was in both pictures, hugging my child. The only problem...my head was cut off in both pictures. I could do nothing but laugh.

It are moments like these that end up in scrapbooks. It are moments like these that help get you through the roughest of times. It are moments like these that help you, "When Little Hands Let Go."

Guess What's In The Oven (No, Not One of Those)!

2010-08-30T06:38:00.004-04:00

Hard to believe that I've finally reached this chapter in my life...Business Owner. I can now cross off the line on the Bucket List that read: "Be My Own Boss."

I can't say that I ever imagined owning a cookie company, let alone being it's main baker. But when I was handed my license last week; I knew it was true.

The past couple of months seem like a whirlwind. But to be able to work from my home is really the ultimate dream. I can continue to be a Mom, carpool, watch Karate and Swimming lessons, help with homework and build paper airplanes. While I realize our schedule will change a bit, I am still grateful.

To my family and friends that believed in me and supported me through this process: "I Thank You." Thanks for ignoring your waistlines during the rigorous taste testing.

I'm looking forward to the next couple months!

Those Were the Days

2010-08-23T06:56:00.003-04:00

Oh, how I miss the 80's. Sure, some of you that read this post may not have even been born yet. And although the eighties were filled with much neon; memories take me back to a time of boom boxes and roller skates.

So when my children asked if we could take them roller skating, you can imagine my response. Yes, Yes, Yes!!!

It's funny how times have changed. The place to be on the weekends was the roller skating rink. In order to take my children roller skating though, we had to venture into North East Philadelphia (which isn't that far). But seriously, there are absolutely no roller skating rinks in the suburbs.

Now, had they asked to go ice skating, they could have been easily accommodated. We are surrounded by three.

Who needs three ice skating rinks? It's not like ice skating's popularity is on the rise. I mean I remember the Dorthy Hamill days. I had her hair cut for Goodness sake. But I also remember the Nancy Kerrigan/Tonya Harden incident. (What that was all about, still baffles me).

So when we finally reach the rink, I'm filled with nostalgia. I can't wait to get my skates on. And then it hits me, my body is a little older since I tried this last. In addition, I was there to teach the kids to skate, not to recreate scenes from Xanadu.

By the end of the session, I was still ready to go, but honestly my body was done. Although I hadn't fallen once, my attempts at catching children before they hit the hard wood took a little out of me.

I woke up this morning asking the question "What Happened?" I finally realized why so many of us 80's Lover's had retired our roller skates for a pair of Isotoners and a bottle of Doan's.

A "shifty" Issue

2010-08-19T07:22:00.003-04:00

i guess it's time to buy a new computer. i'm unsure how long these things are meant to last, but this morning when i began this blog I noticed the shift key, well, got a little "shifty.'

as you can already tell by the use of my capitals, my shift key is giving me a problem. funny how yesterday it was the 'T' key. i had to go through my entire post and hold the "t" key down with all my might in the places it had been omitted.

when i opened my computer this morning, it was telling me it was shutting down Windows. Listen Mr. computer, i shut the window yesterday before i left.' I know the rules. If you don't shut the window, someone is likely to crawl in. And maybe that's exactly what has happened. i have a visitor.

i don't remember inviting anyone in, so if you're here, it's time to leave. my computer is only 2 years old, and frankly I need a dishwasher and oven more than I need a computer right now.

Maybe the keyboard just needs a good cleaning. Hopefully by tomorrow, i'll have this thing figured out!

The Electric Went Out, and Our Son Vomited!

2010-08-17T07:18:00.002-04:00

And those were the words I woke up to this morning.

As usual, I was in my morning stupor. My husband leaned over me around 5:30am and gave me the news. And that was how the day began.

As I sat in bed, I began to already change the plans for the day. I was unsure how sick Potter really was at that point, so I decided in order to avoid the hustle and bustle of the morning, we would forget about the gym.

I entered the shower realizing this would be the only "Me" time of the day. For as soon as I emerged I would have to have my Super cape attached, and be able to leap buildings in a single bound.

Scooter was already sitting up in bed at 6:15. He is always a delight in the morning. Like clockwork, he attempts every day to convince me of the importance for children to consume Pop Tarts as their morning breakfast. Again it is followed by a silly attempt on my part to explain the Food Pyramid to a five year old. The only thing I really have on my side at this time in the morning is size. Mom: 1, Scooter: 0.

When I walk in to check on Potter, I'm greeted by a mysterious smell. Well, as luck would have it, Husbands do indeed wake up in he middle of the night and change sheets. They just forget to bring the soiled ones down to the Laundry Room.

And so the saga continues. It is now 7:39am, and Potter has been vomit free so far. Here's hoping that luck continues.

As for Me, well I guess I have some Febreezing to do.

Yes. I've Managed to Blow Up Another Appliance!

2010-08-10T21:19:00.003-04:00

I'm unsure whether or not a carpet steamer can be filed under the word appliance. When I think of appliance, I automatically think of all those dust collectors that line our counter tops. Our coffee pots, toasters, KitchenAids, food processors, blenders, etc.

I have independently decided that carpet steamers be filed under a special category...CRAP!

See, it's like this. Hubby and I bought a carpet steamer the year we bought our home (eight years ago this week). Sadly, carpet steamer #1 left us much too soon.

We began a family the following year and knew we would need a new steamer. So of course, out to the store we headed. I believe that one lasted us about a year. Just in time for our second child to arrive. Unfortunately, it too bit the dust (no pun intended).

Steamer #3 was sure to last us a lifetime (at least that's what it said on the box). Now, before I go any further, I need to mention that I do not steam every day, or every week for that matter. So for anyone who may believe I'm just killing these steamers slowly by overuse, well, that is truly not the case.

Steamer #3 was off to a bad start. See, we were forced to buy special chemicals (that were not sold in stores) to keep that puppy running. And although I believed in the promises, Steamer #3 found it's way to the garbage can shortly after it decided to backfire its "special chemical" all over the user, i.e. Me. There's something truly special about a Steamer that not only steams carpets, but also steams it's owners, it's owners clothes, and air.

Steamer #4 was bought at my local Kohl's store. And while I do not hold Kohl's accountable for today's misconduct, I have to mention that I've only owned this "appliance" for four months. The fact that it broke was only half of my misfortune. I now have a steamer filled with water and carpet cleaner. And a dining room table which is now balancing all the contents of the dining room, including the chairs.

I literally had to sit down and take a break. Steamers are indeed not one of the cheaper "appliances." It always seemed more logical to me to own a steamer than to pay someone to come in and clean our rugs.

Hubby is currently in Google Mode trying to find a way to fix said appliance. I however, have bigger plans. I think I should put the $300 I would spend toward a steamer, and purchase a Margarita Maker. Let's face it: If it decides to leak, I can always sip the contents right off the counter top. And maybe after 2 or 3 of those Margaritas, the stains in the carpet won't look so bad after all.

The "Right" School Supplies

2010-07-28T06:50:00.003-04:00

It's not even August yet and everywhere you go, you're bombarded by school supply deals. Tons of flyers are piled on my dining room table. I had no intention of beginning so early, but when I saw that some stores were selling supplies for less than a dollar, I began to pay attention.

I was lucky enough to have received a starter list from Potter's teacher before he left for summer vacation. However, in small print it warned that we will receive another letter in August and there may be additional supplies needed.

"Exactly how many supplies does one child need?" I thought. But I go with the flow, and try not to complain. That is of course until I get to the store.

The first thing on the list is a 4oz bottle of Elmer's Glue. Which by the way was strategically placed right next to the store brand. The difference? Oh, about 20 cents. Doesn't seem like much until I realize everything on the list is name brand. "What is going on?" And to top it off, the sale was just on the store brands.

So I leave my shopping trip dumbfounded and poor. I get that teachers would like to have all their students have the same supplies. But let's face it, when it comes to supplies the only thing we as parents are worried about are the words: "Non-Toxic."

I'm not done with Potter's list just yet, and Scooter will be going to Kindergarten this year. Can't wait to see that list. "Gold Leaf Crayons, anyone?"

Apron Extensions

2010-07-23T07:23:00.004-04:00

I may have let it slip out. I'm unsure. But if the cat's out of the bag, I guess I can let you all know that I am in the process of opening my own business. Yep, that's right. Mommy Maestro is now wearing yet another hat. I have decided to open a cookie company.

While all the legalities are still in the process, I'm hoping to be up and running by September. I will be working in my home kitchen to start out. The idea was that I could work around my children's schedules and still keep myself busy doing something I enjoy. Just one problem.....I'm gaining weight.

As you all know, my goal this summer was to take the weight off. And I was doing OK. Not so much with weight loss as toning. But I finally gained some muscle in places I had forgotten I owned. I thought that maybe by September I may again recognize that part of my body once labeled a waist.

But then along came the cookie company. And hours of taste testing later, I am back to where I began. I still have plenty of varieties yet to test, and dare I say, I'm frightened! Thank God for long apron strings.

I began with good intentions. "I'll just take a bite," I would say. But then that bitten cookie would sit there (so lonely). I would continue the baking process: running around the kitchen, juggling baking sheets, and scrubbing bowls. Then suddenly, that lonely cookie would catch my eye. And before I knew it, I had consumed the entire thing. Not good. Or shall I say: "Yummy!"

And there I was, standing in the kitchen again. Finally satisfied with how my double chocolate cookie had turned out, and realizing I only knew that because I had consumed three of them.

Maybe the excitement of opening my own company will help burn off some calories. I guess there's always an alternative....Apron Extensions! (I know, you thought I was going to say: "Put the cookie down!") Really?

Happy Birthday!

2010-07-22T06:45:00.002-04:00

I decided to take a break from my normal storytelling this morning. And instead talk about someone I love dearly....My Husband.

See, today is his birthday. Hubby doesn't much like surprises, so I figured I would just send some love by way of my blog. And anyone who would like to join us, please feel free to leave him a comment.

I won't say just how old he is, just that he's older than me...teehee!

And while he still had to work today, we wanted to let him know that we will be waiting for him tonight with 39 birthday candles....OOps!

We Love You. Happy Birthday Bri. Love, Your Family: Wifey, Potter and Scooter

Uninvited Friends

2010-07-18T20:50:00.003-04:00

Five years ago, when we put in a pool, I never imagined the pickle I would find myself in.

Instead, I foolishly visualized my white pasty skin would somehow magically form a Caribbean like tan. The water would always be warm. A lifeguard would be on duty for when I needed an extra eye to be kept on the children. Salt would rim the glasses. And last but not least, that bikini that sat at the back of my dresser drawer for years would finally fit my body.

Oh wait. Time for a pinch. This really isn't a dream?

As you may have picked up over the years on my blog, aside from my loving dog Harley, I have never been a huge fan of animals. (That's right PETA, you heard me). So imagine my surprise when I found out that an inground pool (especially during this current heat wave) attracts wildlife.

Because we have such a small yard (honestly, the pool is the main attraction) I thought that maybe the animals would go and play in my neighbors yard where they could frolic and run the day away. (Frolic? Really? One too many fairy tales Mary). But as it turns out, the animals apparently enjoy a little pampering as well.

When we discovered that the bunny population was exploding, we decided to go and put special netting around the inside of our fence. Guess what? They ate it. Yes, apparently rabbits are not only known for their high speed reproductive systems, but also their innate ability to swallow property fence.

During the heavy snows this past winter we found deer and rabbit prints in our driveway. Rumor has it before the rabbits realized they could break in themselves, they called on the deer population to put a little spook on us. Seriously, it looked like the sequel to Bambi was being shot while we all slept that night.

Just two weeks ago I heard cries from my children's playground. "Hey Mom, what's that thing?" "It just ran under the bush."

After getting down on all fours, then grabbing the camera so that I could take a picture for my Dad (Self Proclaimed Wildlife Identifier), I came to find out we had a groundhog. While Pennsylvania may be known for it's famous groundhog, I seriously doubt Punksatony Phil traveled across the state just to take a dip.

And last but not least, let us not forget about the frog population. If there is one animal that grosses me out...it's the frog. I don't want to look at them. I don't want to hear them. And I certainly don't want to swim with them.

It all started about 2 weeks ago. Right after the groundhog left us. I found a frog at the bottom of the pool. And since Hubby was at work that day, I knew I would be the one who would have to fish him out. But suddenly, as I tried to put the net under him, he swam away. Let me just say, how fast that guy could swim. He went back and forth from the shallow to deep end. Had he worn a pair of goggles, he may have been mistaken for an Olympic contender. Of course he was sporting his Birthday Suit, which I believe is an automatic disqualification from any event.

As it turns out, I did catch Laurel. Yes, I named him.

Why you ask? Well, because as it turns out, he returned the next day. And the next. And the next.

Then one day last week, as I went about my daily duty of fishing Laurel out of my pool, I noticed he had lost some weight. A lot of weight. Whatever secret he had, I wished he would pass it along to the loyal netter who has been saving his life everyday.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a shadow. It was Laurel.

Well then who was it that I was trying to get a net under?

From what I can figure out. Laurel now has a wing man. Somewhere during the last 24 hour period Laurel went to the local drinking hole, got thrown out, waited till dark, made a friend, returned to hole, and promised his friend that a cool chick would come along with a net and save them both. Lucky for them, I was home.

It's been tough watching my tropical oasis be turned into a wildlife refuge. But as I see it, so far, the animals have the upper hand. The groundhog may have left for cooler weather, but Laurel and Hardy (Yes, he earned a name as well), look like they're here to stay.

Just one warning boys: Friday is mowing day. You may want to be at the neighbors house then.

A Trip to the Candy Store

2010-07-14T06:55:00.005-04:00

Yesterday my Mom and I took a ride to Peddler's Village. It's a great place to walk around. There are so many unique shops. The only problem was that it was near 90 degrees and we had the kids with us.

There's something so ugly that happens to little ones after they hit a certain temperature. I have to say that despite this, they were doing their best at hanging in there. So to reward them for their good behavior we took them to the Candy Store.

The Candy Store at Peddler's Village is something everyone should get a chance to see. The smell of chocolate once you hit the door can make just about anyone immediately turn diabetic. While I may have initially had an underlining agenda entering the candy store (air conditioning), I soon realized what a gem this store was.

We ended up in the lower level of the store. It was literally candy nostalgia. Everything from candy cigarettes to Dots to Sky Bars was for sale. I couldn't believe my eyes. I was in Wonka Land.

Before I knew it, the store owner was showing my boys the ropes. Now remember, my boys are 6 and 5. They light up when anyone gives them attention and they generally hang on every word. And let us not forget, they believe just about everything they are told.

With that said. Keep in mind the following conversation.

Store Owner: "These are our top sellers. Lightning Bugs Gummy Worms. They fly off the shelf before we can restock them."

Scooter: "Wow Mom, I want a bag of those!"

And so I paid the $3.50 for the bag of Gummy Worms, and the .85 cents for the Candy Cigarettes for Potter. And after a wonderful dinner we traveled home.

Back at the ranch, the kids couldn't wait to open their candy. While Potter found easy access to his candy cigarettes, I watched as Scooter began to line up his Gummy Worms on the counter. And soon I found out why:

Scooter: "Mom, the lady at the store said these things fly off the shelf. Mom, they're not going anywhere!"

Try explaining that one to a five year old.

Welcome Home Stealth Puppy

2010-07-12T20:45:00.003-04:00

Every once in a while when we go on a trip, we choose to board our dog. It's not like it's really a choice. If I could take her everywhere we go, I certainly would. But the housekeeping staff in Atlantic City would probably frown. I would certainly loose any comps I may have earned. (Oh what would I do without that $1.00 coupon for the buffet?)

When I dropped Harley off at the kennel, I made sure they had all the necessary directions: feed once a day, walk twice a day, give only the food we drop off, scratch belly until leg shakes uncontrollably, etc., etc., etc.

I was asked to take Harley's collar home since they would be using their own at the kennel. This always makes me nervous. Although the kennel seems completely safe, I liken it to going to Atlantic City without my wallet. Without I.D.- Do I really exist? I mean it's not like my image is plastered all over grocery store magazines. Aside from close friends and family, I don't have a huge fan base.

So I wondered. If Harley Dog decided to plan the great escape from her kennel; would anyone know she is gone? How would they break it to me? Would they even remember her name? Or would they just refer to her as that cute furry creature I dropped off Saturday morning?

Well as it turns out, Harley is safe. But for a while she was silent. See, all those ID tags that usually hang nicely around her neck were still in the car. And if Hubby had it his way, that is where they would stay. The jingle and jangle that usually followed Harley was nonexistent. If it hadn't been for the fact that Harley always greets me at the door, I probably would have a hard time finding her. It's funny how quickly we miss the things that annoy us so easily.

I watched her play for a while without her tags. She ran through the house at the speed of light- minus the speed of sound. She quickly earned the name Stealth Puppy. My Husband was in his glory. One can usually hear Harley coming from a mile away. But now she crept through the house almost reserved. This of course led to another problem.

Harley tends to follow me wherever I go. This is fine when I can hear her, but once she was put on mute, I had some problems. I found myself tripping all over the place. After about an hour, it was time to retire Stealth Puppies super cape and return her collar.

Well peace and quiet was nice while it lasted. But nothing compares to the real Harley Dog. Welcome home Stealth Puppy!

Lost in Pronunciation

2010-06-27T15:39:00.005-04:00

Did you ever have an experience where you know what you wanted to say, but you just couldn't find the right words? Well, something like that just happened to my six year old.

To say this week has been busy so far is an understatement. We're currently trying to redo the kids bedrooms. This has been no easy task since it's the same bedrooms they sleep and play in. Aside from hanging caution tape across the threshold, I've had little luck at, shall we say, recycle their toys. Kids have a hard time parting with everything.

I was sitting in Potter's room with him trying to help him clean when he comes out with the following statement: "Scooter's room is such a whore." He said.

I froze. My head immediately began to spin with thoughts of "What have I done?" "Where did this child learn to speak like that?" Then suddenly I broke into laughter.

Potter was unsure whether to run or hide since only a moment before he witnessed my head about to explode.

"I think the word you're looking for is horror, Potter. You're brother's room is a horror, not a whore."

I didn't bother going into the definition of either word. The look on my face told him everything he needed to know.

It's Official; My Kid's Are Smarter Than Me

2010-06-22T06:41:00.003-04:00

I consider myself to be of average intelligence. Like every other parent, I hoped that my children would one day grow up to be smarter than their Mom. I did not expect however that it would happen so early.

At ages 6 and 5, my children have turned into geniuses. This is the part where I guess I should break out my "Proud Mommy" shirt, but I must pause for a quick breath. For I realize sometimes the things we pray for are the exact things that will scare the hell out of us.

Take for instance the other day when I had to rent a car while my minivan was in the shop. As usual my children took the opportunity to beat on one another while I was forced to hold onto the wheel. I would glance into the rear view mirror only to find a flying arm, a hand full of hair and a child in a headlock. After a few threats and a million prayers for a Calgon, I decided to take it to the next step.

"If you boys don't quiet down now," I said. "I'm going to push the eject button."

All was quiet. So quiet in fact, I thought I may have been the first Mother to kill my children with a threat.

But not to worry. Like most pleasantries and tranquil moments in my life, they were quickly sucked out the window by the sound of laughter.

"This thing has an eject button?" The older one asked.

"Sure does." I said with complete certainty.

Again, silence. Then finally, my defeated moment began.

"Push it, Push it, Push it!" They yelled.

Car manufacturers should hang their heads low. For years their focus has surrounded such things as heated seats, anti lock brakes, video monitors and GPS systems. Had they only spoke to a Mom first.

When Life Gives You Lemons

2010-06-15T06:25:00.007-04:00

If you read my blog regularly, you already know my luck with cars. I received my license when I was 17. I am now 35, and I have owned (drum roll) 7 cars.

I love the "new car" smell. I salivate when I walk through a showroom and a salesman gives me a decent price on a vehicle I've been eyeing. But the excitement is generally short lived.

I will begin with my purple Chevy. This was the first car I bought with my own money. It was my favorite color. I am not counting the "brown bomber" as my first car since that was so nicely handed down to me while I was in college. Hence the name; you can image the issues that car had. After graduation I gladly handed that sweet ride down to my little sister (that's what family is for).

The purple Chevy however was a dream come true. Nothing like turning the ignition and having a car start on the first try (something I wasn't privy to with my first car). Then it happened. One day on the way to work I got stuck in a police chase (so Hollywood of me). And yes, the front of my Chevy was pulled off. Although it was fixed, it never quite ran as well. And so we parted ways.

I moved on to a Hyundai. While it wasn't top of the line, it had more options than the Chevy, and I really liked it for a while. Then the transmission went (not even a year on the road). Shortly after that was fixed some Bozo decided to make a left turn in front of me. I made it out with just a few scratches. But the Hyundai was sent to the big scrapyard in the sky.

Car accidents are never a good way to get rid of a car you don't want. However, because of that previous accident, I was able to buy my Monte Carlo. Hands down, this was one of my favorite cars. But once again, it didn't last very long. Although this time it was good news.

We were expecting our first child. We soon realized that getting a car seat in and out of a Monte Carlo was considered an Olympic Event. So I traded cars with my husband. I was down graded to a Ford Escape while Hubby rode off into the sunset in Monte.

After the transmission blew in that (a few times) we bought a Chrysler Pacifica. What can I say...beautiful. This car was wonderful. And aside from the small hit and run it was involved in, it remained a dependable car. Unfortunately at the time, we could only afford to lease it. So after three wonderful years they had to pry it from my grasp.

And that is when the minivan entered our lives. It was a nightmare on wheels. It literally rained in the backseat because of poor sealing issues. It was in and out of the shop. Of course, it was also involved in a hit and run......but we got that girl.

When I finally couldn't put up with the problems any longer, I began to visit dealers again. Let's just say the smell of "new car" makes me break out the checkbook.

So there I was with a brand new minivan. This was April 2009. It is now June 2010, and my minivan is a little over a year old. You probably won't be surprised when I tell you its been towed twice, the automatic doors have closed on my children, and I sometimes find the doors open in parking lots when I return from a shopping adventure. Needless to say, it will be going into the shop tomorrow.

You're probably also wondering why it's not considered a lemon. Apparently, in order for your car to be considered a lemon, the same problem must exist three separate occasions within a certain period of time.

So until I can convince the dealer that I have been sold a lemon, I will have to be satisfied with owning a lime.

The Man, The Myth, The Legend

2010-06-14T06:34:00.003-04:00

I know what you're expecting. Some superhero blog featuring a fictitious character who once again is "here to save the day." What else do you think of when such a title is given?

The truth is, the following post is about my husband. While I had plans of writing about another subject, he took me by surprise when I found him sitting downstairs this morning instead of on his way to work.

You'll understand my dismay in a moment. Right after I explain that my husband doesn't call out of work....ever!

While many people are already speaking to the boss before their first sniffle, my husband would have already worked out, logged into his computer, made calls, filled out paperwork and consumed about 5 cups of coffee. Referring to him as a work horse is actually an understatement. And to top it all off, he has over an hour commute both ways.

While he does catch the occasional cold, most of the time, you wouldn't even know it. Because he also suffers from allergies, it's sometimes hard to figure out when he is really sick. But lately I saw the signs: glassy eyes, chills, an uncontrollable cough and boxes of tissues lined up in every room.

To see him finally give in today and make a doctor's appointment was actually a relief. No fighting, no "it's just a cough." I was shocked.

Sometimes we all need to take it easy. I think he is long overdue. Get well soon Hun!

The Ones They Forgot To Mention

2010-06-07T06:29:00.003-04:00

You may have heard about the uproar in Major League Baseball last week. A bad call made by umpire Jim Joyce prevented Detroit Tigers Armando Galarraga from making baseball history.

On his way to throwing a perfect game, Galarraga made the out at first base. Only it wasn't an out. At least that is what Joyce saw. He called the runner safe, and like that, it was all over.

After further review, Joyce realized he had made a mistake. And here is my favorite part: He apologized. And Galarraga accepted.

All too often a play in baseball ends in a coach yelling at an umpire, a player throwing a bat, a fine and an eviction from the game. This time it was different.

Mr. Joyce could have easily stood behind his call, and baseball would have went on as normal. But instead, he made the tougher decision. He listened.

Talk about a life lesson. It's not often we get to witness history being made in such an eloquent way. If you ask me, both men should be inducted into the Hall of Fame simply for rising above adversity.

And maybe that's where this story should end. But I think there are two people that still need to be recognized.

Three cheers for the women that these two men call Mom. Ladies, you raised some outstanding men. But based on what we've seen so far, you probably both have already received your thank you calls.

Blame It On The Dog

2010-06-03T06:30:00.003-04:00

I've began to notice a common theme in our home lately. Whenever someone doesn't want to fess up to their accidents; they blame it on the dog.

Our dog Harley is eight years old this year. She was once the baby of the family. But in the past 8 years she saw us through a new home, a wedding and the birth of two boys. And although she may have slowed down over the years, she still has her wits about her.

Harley has been trained since she was a puppy. But whenever she feels she is not getting enough attention, the dining room becomes her mine field. She waits until we leave the home before she begins her work. After all these years, I have never caught her in the act.

And now it seems, the kids have caught on. No, they're not peeing in the dining room. However, whenever there is a mystery puddle or smell, guess who gets the blame? Harley has become the default button at our home.

Just last night I asked: "What's that smell?" At first, there was dead silence. It was as if everyone needed that minute to take a deep breath and figure out exactly what smell I was referring to. Then I got my answer: "Maybe it was the dog, Mommy."

So there you have it. These kids may not realize it now, but someday they will have to fess up to their criminal activity. Until then, I guess it is Harley who will have to explain that "funny smell" coming from the kids room. And it is I who will have to trust that Febreeze will help keep things under control until the real culprit gives up.

Tinkering With The Blog

2010-06-01T06:31:00.003-04:00

"Don't fix it if it isn't broken." Those words were running through my mind as I was editing my blog last night. I spent Memorial Day weekend searching for a program that would help me make my blog a bit more personal. I've come to the conclusion that my talent ends with my writing.

Luckily I only spent $20. I was hopeful that the $20 would also include a direction manual...no such luck. Funny how that frozen pizza I cooked for the family the other night was coated with directions. Just in case an overscheduled Mom such as myself should accidentally forget that cardboard is highly flammable.

I often spend my mornings admiring some beautifully designed blogs. I've spent hours on the Internet trying to avoid buying some of the more expensive programs. But apparently it's those exact programs that I need. I thought by reading a few tutorials I could magically give my blog a professional touch. No such luck again.

So I'm off to find a blog designer this week. Someone who's mind doesn't turn to mush when their handed a series of directions.

Hopefully soon, Mommy Maestro will have a new look. Until then, I think I'll stick to making pizza.

Hanging Up My Yard Sale Hat

2010-05-28T06:16:00.003-04:00

Last week was our community Yard Sale. I always have so much fun on this day. It's a way to get the house clean, socialize, and maybe if you're lucky, make a few bucks.

But, as with any event, there is a lot of preparation needed. I always find myself at the last minute trying to affix tiny price stickers to every item. (Those same stickers are the ones that don't want to cooperate once they hit the heat). Despite all my hard work, I end up selling things for $1.00. And like the optimist I am, I have to keep in mind: "It's a dollar I didn't have a minute ago."

So there I am standing over my table of treasures. I have to wonder how I accumulated all this stuff. Among it sits a large bowl filled with chocolate chip cookies. I sell small batches of these fresh baked cookies every year for $1.00. And like clockwork, the bowl is just about empty at the close of the sale.

So while I spent the week price tagging salt and pepper shakers, Halloween costumes, baby monitors and exercise equipment; I realized where I had gone wrong all these years. There may be a few people out there that love to buy your old junk, but there are a lot more who enjoy buying cookies.

The truth is, it was actually Hubby that brought it to my attention. If it weren't for him, I probably would have kept doing things like I always have. When I bring up a flea market that I was interested in, he suggest that I use the event to launch my cookie business. Funny thing is, I don't have a cookie business. "Oh, I get it." I say.

Sometimes it takes a little while to sink in, but eventually I catch up. After seven years, it's finally time to hang up my Yard Sale Hat. Now, if I only owned a baker's cap. I think I need to find a Yard Sale!

"Lost" Lost Me at Hello

2010-05-23T20:41:00.002-04:00

Sunday nights are generally not too bad for TV. My kids love the ever so popular Americas Funniest Home Videos. I love 60 minutes, but like most people, I tune in just to see the ever so popular antics of Andy Rooney.

For a while, Hubby enjoyed tuning into the Amazing Race. I enjoyed the premise of the show, but the drama that some of the couples chose to bring along; I could honestly do without.

For me, 9 o clock was always worth the wait since it brought the arrival of my favorite housewives. Just when you think the stresses in your life are overwhelming, along comes one of those beauties from Wisteria lane to remind you just how great you have have it.

So as Sunday was coming to a close, I checked the TV lineup. What a disappointment. Since the Amazing Race and Desperate Housewives had come to a close, I guess I was hoping for the network executives to put something just as entertaining in their place....NOT!

To make matters worse, I'm the only one who was not tuned into the whole "Lost" phenomenon. But let me explain: I too was excited when it first aired. Let's face it, the first episode where the passengers were being sucked out of the airplane was amazing. I guess it was somewhere around the time they introduced the black cloud that I lost interest (First season maybe). I don't know, call it deja vue or something, but wasn't the whole concept of passengers getting stuck on an island already done before.....Gilligan's Island?

So now I have to sit and watch a tribute to Brooks and Dunn. Another disappointment. Apparently after 20 some years together, they've decided to call it quits. You must be kidding! Does anyone believe in counseling anymore. Couldn't they have talked this out a bit longer and realized what a big mistake they're making. I have no words.

Let us not forget Celebrity Apprentice. Since it's not over until 11, I'll have to wait till the morning to find out the winner. Why am I feeling that Bret Michaels will be crowned?

Here's hoping Sunday night television picks up again for the summer. Well, I guess there's always blogging. I may even get a chance to finish a book. If all else fails, I may actually get some sleep. Or I could just keep watching, and be put to sleep naturally.

When All Else Fails...Use a Safety Pin!

2010-05-20T06:32:00.003-04:00

I do not sew. I do not want to learn. I have no passion to make my own clothes or give my creations to friends for special celebrations.

I admire those who can. Funny thing is: my husband is one of them. Apparently that is one of the patches he earned in Boy Scouts. Just a side note: I was in Girl Scouts and my patch was for the tin foil oven I built at camp. I unfortunately did not retain that skill, so you're sure to find me starving if I ever get lost in the woods. You're likely to also find holes in my clothes since I may have mentioned, I do not sew.

This leads us to the other day when Scooter, my younger son finally decided to take on Karate. Since we were all unsure how long this passion would last, the Sensei thought it would be wise to borrow a uniform until we were absolutely sure Scooter was serious.

I refuse to complain about anything that is given to me for free and with kindness. However, one look at Scooter, and you can tell, he is not very tall. Unfortunately, the only pair of pants they had to spare were definitely made for a taller kid.

Did I mention that I don't sew?

And this is where Mother's intuition along with invention comes into play. I went into the trusty sewing box (which belongs to Hubby) and found a few safety pins. And like magic, the pants were fixed. Well actually, they had kind of a hobo look to them. Each pant leg was rolled about five times. Then these giant safety pins were poking out from the sides. The only thing my child was missing was a bottle wrapped in a paper bag.

It was a good fix for the night, but it looks like I will be buying a new uniform this week. Right after Scooter ran off the mat crying, I knew he had been injured by my make shift sewing project. "Something poked me," he shouted.

Suddenly I felt all those parents looking at me wondering: "What's wrong with you lady?" "Don't you know how to sew?"

Well ladies, I may not know how to sew, but I can make a kick ass cake in an Easy Bake Oven.

The Perfect Gift

2010-05-18T21:06:00.005-04:00

Who hasn't ever ran out of ideas when it comes to gift giving? Even when we think we've come up with an idea; where do we begin to shop? Do we run around the mall and do our best at comparing prices? Or do we just use a search engine and cross our fingers? Wouldn't it be nice if all the hard work was done for us? Now it can be.

Recently I came upon the site Become.com. I was searching for a new watch. While I had a few specifications such as price and color, I needed help with narrowing my choices.

Become.com gave me exactly what I needed. I was able to set my exact price range along with my desired color and brand. What originally began as a huge search came down to just a handful of choices. Because I was able to comparison shop with ease, I found I spent much less than expected.

So I did what any responsible gal would do... I continued shopping. Become.com was also able to help me find a new pair of earrings. Sure, I could have wandered through the mall. But I already did that, and I came up empty handed. Once again I was able to enter exactly what I was looking for. And let me just say how happy I am.

If you're short on time like most of us are, why not stop by Become.com for all your gift giving needs? It's like having your own personal shopper along for the ride.

Sharing My Pool...Is For The Birds!

2010-05-12T06:42:00.003-04:00

Could someone please tell me where in my contract did it mention that I would have to share my pool? After signing on the line, I thought I was free and clear. I mean it is in my back yard. It is properly fenced. Last time I checked, it's my address that's on the house it sits behind. Yet, I continue to get visitors....unwanted visitors!

Take for instance Mr. Duck who mistakes our pool for his own personal launching pad. Not to mention a Day Spa as well.

Mr. Duck stops by every year. Occasionally I will have just awoken, only to find Mr. Duck perusing the waves. Sometimes he stops by for just a few minutes. Other days, he stays a bit longer. But don't get me wrong. The last thing Mr. Duck wants is to be bothered....As If! Once I enter the back yard, Mr. Duck is on his way. Mr. Duck is shy and refuses to engage in any conversation with those who are not wearing feathers.

Next I must mention Mr. Frog. Or shall I say, the entire Frog Family (cousins and all). The Frog Family must have done cartwheels when then found out there was a pool going in at the Brennan Ranch. For as soon as we installed the pool, the Frog Family jumped in immediately to do their morning laps. Unfortunately, while the Frog Family may have admired the ease of entering the pool, they failed to realize there was no exit. Once in the pool, the Frog members had to await a member of the Brennan family to rescue them with a net before they reached exhaustion. While our success rate may be higher than our failure rate, I have to admit that more than a few Frog members just didn't make it. A special place in the Brennan Garden has been dedicated to them.

Lastly, there are the birds. Those damn birds. When I look out from my window at my backyard I see an oasis. A place to retreat to during those hot days. A gazebo to relax under and enjoy conversation. A barbecue to enjoy good meals. And a swing set where the kids play for hours.

What I didn't realize is what my pool may look like to others. Or for that matter, what it may look like from the sky. Apparently, for our winged friends it looks like a giant bird bath. I have afforded these creatures a chance for a break. A truck stop if you will. A chance to free themselves of pollutants, and whatever else may collect in those feathers during long flights.

While sharing my pool with wildlife may not have been part of my plan, it sure appears that it will stay that way with or without my approval. And until I decide to screen in my entire backyard I will just have face the facts: This pool thing is "For The Birds!"

What Being a Mom Has Taught Me!

2010-05-09T17:15:00.005-04:00

In only two months, I will have been a Mother for seven years. Hard to believe it's been that long already. For many of you out there, it's been much longer than that.

It's funny how in just that short amount of time, how much one can learn. Here are some of my favorite highlights:

1) No matter how much you spend on a toy. Your three year old would prefer to play with the box instead.

2) Children will run a high fever all day, but will wait until you're dead asleep to vomit all over their bed sheets.

3) Before I had children I took hot showers for granted. Now I just hope for a hot shower.

4) Great Mother's feed their children fruit. The rest of us think the man who created Pop Tarts is a genius.

5) Tornadoes are covered by insurance. Tantrums aren't.

6) No matter how far you force your body into the dryer; the vortex that stole your sock will also one day steal your child's favorite toy, the last drop of milk, your car keys and your mind.

7) No matter what you may think of her; the best babysitter for your children will always be your mother.

8) A half hour of cartoons does the soul good.

9) Prefer whine over wine once in a while. Some things can't be preserved.

10) The best presents you will receive for Mother's Day are the ones without wrapping.

May you all have a Blessed Mother's Day!

Pillow Fight!

2010-04-28T07:15:00.004-04:00

A few weeks ago I bought a new pillow for my bed.

Now one thing I should let you know ahead of time is that I don't take pillow shopping lightly. In fact, if you accompany me on this adventure, you'll probably find yourself sitting in one of those chairs next to the dressing room. It's a process. A long process.

I take serious anything that aids in a good nights sleep. From the thread count in my sheets, to the cotton in my pajamas. It's all important.

So after 30 minutes in the bedding isle at Kohls last month; I thought I had found it...The Perfect Pillow.

The first night is always a little tricky. No matter how comfortable it felt, there is a breaking in process.

Just after my pillow turned a week old, I was sure this was the one. I had a perfect night of sleep. I was well rested.

I headed to the bathroom to begin my morning routine. And that is when it hit me...right in the face. As I looked closer at the mirror, I realized my dear beloved pillow had left its mark.

Not just any mark, mind you. There was an impression of a seam which began at my hair line and stemmed down to my left ear. Dear Lord! Despite my love for Avon, I knew there was no makeup in the world that would cover this monstrosity!

A hood? A big hat? A comb over? Nothing would work. And now I had to bring the kids to school. I prayed the seam would disappear by then. Every few minutes I ran to the bathroom to check things out. It was going away, but not quickly. Apparently, my pillow wanted to let everyone know just how good of a job it was doing.

I thought for sure I was part of pillow conspiracy of some kind. I was forced to walk around all day with this thing on my face just so people would start a conversation with me. Suddenly there would be a surge in sales at the local Kohls. People around town would start waking up with pillow seam impressions across their foreheads. But all of them would be well rested.

And then it occurred to me: "I really need to get out more often." A blog about pillow seams? Really Mary. There must be something more interesting to write about.

The Last AVATAR

2010-04-26T06:32:00.004-04:00

I finally did it! I saw AVATAR.

Well actually I saw the beginning and I saw the end. As for the middle, I can't say I remember a thing. That's probably because that nap I so needed overrode the need to watch green and blue men fight for their planet.

My husband has been raving about this movie for months. "As soon as it comes on DVD, I'm buying it." He would say.

Of course as we walked into Walmart this weekend for a casual shopping experience, guess what was there to greet us? (Aside from the Walmart greeter).

That's right. A kiosk filled to the brim with AVATAR DVD's.

"Sure Honey, put it in the cart." How could I possibly say know. Not to mention he was being helped by my sons who just mastered "puppy dog eyes." It was three against one.

Like a typical Mother I thought of all the other things that could be bought with the $24.99 that was spent on a movie instead. But how can I complain? Surely if I had brought everyone to the theaters to see this Gem, I would have easily been out 100 bucks. So technically, I saved around $75. Or at least that is what my husband would lead me to believe.

It Start's With One Person

2010-04-20T20:31:00.005-04:00

It starts with you.

On April 22nd we will be celebrating Earth Day. I always get excited about Earth Day, because even if it's only for a day, it's one day that people try to act responsibly.

When I was small, although Earth Day may have existed, there was no fuss. Global warming was still a phenomenon, and we didn't own a recycling container until I was in high school (but it was just decorative).

So when did things change?

For me it was a teacher. A teacher who had so much passion about the environment that it was literally catchy. I would leave her class with so much excitement. I couldn't wait to pass that excitement onto my students.

As luck would have it, I quickly became a Mom. Rather than passing the excitement onto students, I was able to pass it onto my children.

I quickly began to realize the hurdles of "Being Green." I also realized that my excitement wasn't shared by all...a huge misconception.

When I was pregnant I began my search for biodegradable diapers (something you probably won't find at your local market). If you think the price for a regular pack of diapers is expensive, wait till you get a load of what they want for these puppies. Needless to say, due to budget constraints, I wasn't able to add this coveted item to my baby inventory.

And that's just one example. The list goes on to contain everything from bottles to clothes to organic food. To be green you have to spend the green. There's no way around it.

While I do find it unfair, I believe in the cause. Sure it's more expensive now, but as more people catch on, companies will be able to lower their prices.

Start to make your home a green home, and you won't look back. But be patient, it takes some time. My home is still a work in progress and I began over a year ago.

If you need some help getting started, refer to this site: http://www.earthday.org/

Best of Luck!

"What's a Lamp?"

2010-04-18T16:24:00.003-04:00

It's official. I've once again failed Mothering 101.

I couldn't have predicted this one, even if I tried. Somewhere in my heart, I knew there would be things we forgot to teach our children. I know my parents did. But somehow the cracks get filled. Whether it is by a teacher, a relative, a friend or (dare I say) T.V.

So when I was putting Scooter in bed the other night, imagine my surprise when I was asked: "Mommy, what's a lamp?"

Surely this must have been covered in one of those sweet baby books we received for his first birthday. He is 5 years old now. How is it that he doesn't know what a lamp is?

By his age I had already changed a few bulbs in our house. Remember back then how often they would burn out? Now you can go something like 10 years before you buy a bulb. I even remember how our hall closet would be ready with at least 4 packs of bulbs. Parents back then would often talk of power surges......we never had one.

So there I sat with Scooter wondering exactly where I had gone wrong. And then it dawned on me. Seven years ago my husband and I bought new construction. We decided on all recessed lighting. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But I never really noticed that we didn't own a lamp. Apparently someone would.

Just goes to show you that you should never take anything for granted. Looks like Scooter and I will be hitting the Yard Sale Circuit soon. He is sure to learn all there is about lamps there.

Please join us soon for some more forgotten life lessons: "What is a Walkman?" "What is a tape cassette?" "And how did you turn on your T.V. if you didn't have a remote?"

A "Sense" of Urgency

2010-04-14T07:09:00.005-04:00

Imagine a world where the sounds you heard around you were so loud, it left you practically debilitated. Imagine your fear of the dark consisted of more than the boogey man. Your parents consistently change light bulbs so as to avoid the inevitable burnout. Imagine a world where your senses are so heightened, you question every move, ride, trip, play date and vacation.

At one time, I imagined this world...now I live it. I live it with my son Scooter.

Scooter was a healthy 10 lbs. at birth. But almost immediately when we brought him home from the hospital, I realized there was something different.

He cried. He cried a lot. And when you would try to hold him, all he would do was fuss.

We blamed it on his eczema for a while, but after several prescriptions, I felt there was something more. Once he learned to speak (which was very early) the word "no" is all we heard.

Finally, one morning, Scooter began to ask me questions about a conversation I had with my husband the night before. Here was the odd thing: Scooter was in bed when we had the conversation; and we were down stairs at the time.

I began paying closer attention to Scooter's hearing. Sure thing, Scooter could hear. Scooter could hear real well. So well in fact that loud sounds began to bother him.

As Scooter grew, so did the problem. We always needed a plan B. Especially since we had 2 children. Luckily my older son was very thoughtful, and constantly looked out for his brother rather than complaining about what he was missing.

Doctors were very dismissive about his problem. After much frustration, I began my own research. Turns out Scooter suffers from Sensory Processing Disorder. While putting a name to the problem seems it may have solved things; the story doesn't end there.

See Sensory Processing Disorder is often associated with children who suffer from Autism or Aspergers Syndrome. And although it can stand alone, it is not recognized that way as of yet. In a nutshell...insurance won't cover it.

This post is not meant to be depressing; but rather informative. I am far from the only parent out there living this experience. My hope is to create conversation and to convince insurance carriers of the importance to reevaluate their decision and begin to cover this disorder.

There are middle men of course. Politics. And of without a doubt, money.

Everyday is an adventure with Scooter. An adventure I wouldn't change for the world. And while I can't protect him from all his fears; the hugs and kisses I am showered with daily let me know I helped shield a few.

If you would like to become an advocate, and help get SPD recognized, please visit this link and fill in the form. Every name counts.

Hugs To All. Sincerely, Mommy Maestro and Scooter

My Dear NyQuil; How I Love Thee!

2010-04-13T06:39:00.005-04:00

As a mother, no matter how many children you have, we always feel like we are taking care of someone else. If a child is sick, we are cleaning up the vomit. If our dog is sick, we are running it to the vet. If Hubby is sick, we are making soup. And so on, and so on.

Yesterday, I was sick. I was waiting for that magic Mommy to jump out from behind a doorway....she never did. I waited for her to say go lay on the couch while I finish the laundry, landscaping and carpooling....she never did. I waited for her to make dinner and drive the kids to Karate....still, no one showed up.

It finally occurred to me around 6pm last night, that I was going to need to pull this one off myself.

But when I pulled in the driveway after Karate classes, there sat the best site I had seen all day....Hubby's car. Yes, that meant he was home. My shift had ended. Right before I was about to drop over.

I didn't really need anyone to take care of me. I just needed someone to take care of all the stuff I normally was responsible for so that I could have time to regroup.

Around 2 hours later I sat on the couch sipping hot tea. Other nights, this would have been relaxing. But since my nose snot decided to run the 5K, I was anything but relaxed. Thank God for NyQuil.

I managed to have a decent night of sleep. I'm finally ready to take on the day. If it weren't for this NyQuil hangover I'm experiencing I probably would be much chipper.

Looks like a did get a hand after all.

The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia

2010-04-11T21:35:00.007-04:00

Well Folks, we lost a great one over the weekend. Dixie Carter, age 70, and former star of Designing Women passed on Saturday.

I was a huge fan of the show, and of course my favorite character was Julia Sugarbaker, played by Dixie.

If you were too young to have had a chance to see Dixie in action, I left a clip from my favorite episode. It is without a doubt one of her best performances.

The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia

Warning: Do Not Decorate the Rose Bush!

2010-04-08T06:29:00.003-04:00

Well, let's just say I've had better ideas when it comes to decorating.

Last week before Easter the kids begged me to decorate the outside with some hanging eggs. I had made the eggs the year before by just hot gluing some ribbon on the tip of some plastic eggs and tying a bow (that is the extent of my creative endeavors).

So we headed outside, and before long I realized that the only bushes the children could reach to decorate were the rose bushes.

It wasn't like I condoned them doing this, but they both promised they wouldn't go near the "prickly things." And like most boys, decorating consisted of a good toss into a tree. No careful positioning needed. And for good measure (or just to add a little frustration to Mommy's day) they both decided to toss eggs into the larger trees. God bless the bird that finds that nugget in his nest when he returns.

And so yesterday I decided it was time to take down the Easter decorations. I began outside with the eggs...."What was I thinking?"

I could have just as easily decorated barbed wire for the children.

It's one thing to play ring toss with some eggs and hope they land inside a rose bush. It's another to try and collect those things without causing bodily injury.

And after what seemed like the longest fifteen minutes of my life. The undecorating (Is that such a thing?) was complete.

Indeed I appeared to have been mawed by a bear. But with eggs in hand I knew the worst part was over. Anything left would have to rely on the wind to blow them out. There was no way I was reaching into those bushes again.

Like I said, I've had better ideas when it comes to decorating. I've learned that being Super Mommy could have easily equated to a trip to Chuckee Cheese. Well, better luck next year.

Spring Cleaning Checklist

2010-04-06T06:28:00.003-04:00

Did you ever have one of those days where you couldn't wait to get started? You had so much to accomplish, but that wasn't going to stop you.

You had your list ready, along with post it notes and that napkin you grabbed at Dunkin Donuts when you couldn't find any paper.

I was full of energy in the morning. I completed a good workout at the gym. I made a stop at the bank then headed over to Target to purchase eggs for this mornings breakfast (since I accidentally hard boiled everything we owned for Easter egg dying).

I headed home, ate lunch, vacuumed and completed 2 loads of laundry. I then decided to head to Kohls to buy the boys some of their summer wardrobe. We are expecting at least 3 days with temperatures over 80 degrees. Both boys grew like weeds over the winter.

When I finally made it home I realized only about half my list was completed. Sadly, I was beginning to get tired. And still, I had porches to scrub, a gazebo to cover, cushions to wash, windows and shudders to clean, etc., etc., etc.

Well, there's only so many hours in a day. At least that's what I told myself so that my accomplishments seemed a little worthy. I guess whatever I couldn't finish will just roll into today. Or tomorrow. Or next week.

It's My Turn To Nap

2010-04-04T20:16:00.003-04:00

Parenthood can be exhausting. I remember looking at my parents when I was young and wondering: "What's wrong with you guys?" "Why are you sitting down?" "We just got started."

And now I'm walking in those same shoes. Shoes I wish offered more support for those unpredictable aches and pains that sneak up on me when least expected.

Saturday began early. I ate breakfast then headed to the gym for a swim. I completed 20 laps. I felt proud until I got a look at the woman in the lane beside me. Twice my age, she swam like an extra in the Titantic. "How is she doing that?" I thought.

I tried remembering the advice the life guard gave me the week before: "Do not compare yourself to that woman. Compare yourself to the person who decided to stay on the couch and eat chips."

So on I persevered. I threw the bag of chips out when I got home.

Hubby and I decided to take the kids to the movies. After selling our first born we were able to purchase tickets. Just kidding, but honestly, why must they charge $10 a person just to watch a movie in 3D? I enjoy 3D about as much as I enjoy reality TV. I'm more impressed with good writing, followed by good actors. Both have been in short supply lately.

Anyway, we ended up watching How To Train Your Dragon. Aside from the 3D glasses I as forced to wear, I really enjoyed the movie.

Three hot dogs, 2 pop corns, 4 sodas and a box of peanut M&M's later; the family was ready to move on.

We headed home to finish a little of yard work. The hot sun made this job a little less than desirable. So we decided to take the kids to the playground.

Turns out there was more shade in our backyard.

We returned home to cook dinner for the kids. Afterwards we all sat down to watch a movie. It must have been then that it hit me...pure exhaustion. I looked over to say something to my husband, but he had already fallen asleep.

That's OK I thought. I'll just watch the movie with the kids.

Let's just say, that was the last thought I had. Because before I knew it, I was fast asleep. And apparently that was the wrong move.

When I woke up I was informed by Hubby that it was "his turn to take a nap."

"I couldn't help it." I told him. My eyes were so heavy. I just couldn't stay up any longer.

If you're wondering, the children were just fine. Apparently they have no problem waking up Mommy and asking her for a snack.

Over Eggs-Cited About Easter

2010-03-31T20:41:00.004-04:00

I'm just your typical average Mom. I do my best to create traditions. I want my children to have stories when they get older, just like the ones I tell today. With that said, I have to admit, I sometimes over do it during the holidays.

I don't buy a lot of presents. My children have plenty, and I also think it's healthy for them to hear the word "no" once in a while. But as for decorations... I can't help myself.

The meter runs like it's on steroids during Christmas. The unending strings of lights attached to the windows, the porch, the trees, the children. They're everywhere.

Valentines Day is fabulous. Everything turns pink. I mean everything. Love is in the air.

As for St. Patty's Day. Well, our last name is Brennan. Need I say more.

So now it's Easter. And what do you think I did? Well, I rushed to the grocery store of course, and bought four dozen eggs.

Did I mention I only have 2 children?

That's right. Somewhere in the depths of my mind I believed that my two boys had the patience to spend their Easter searching for 48 eggs.

The sadder part. I almost bought more.

I can't help myself. I just love the holidays. I can't wait till Memorial Day!

When I grow Up I Want to be a Rock Star!

2010-03-30T11:27:00.006-04:00

Did you ever have one of those days where you're watching your children play, and you begin to fantasize about what they will become when they grow up? It's as if they give clues.

Take for instance this morning. My boys insisted on putting on a rock band show for me before school. They each held two play bowling pins in their hands which acted as their drum sticks. Two Matchbox Car collector boxes were used as drums.

I sat in awe as the boys banged away. Suddenly my mind drifted, and both boys were wearing "Kiss" makeup. I pictured the older one in a suit of armor yelling into a microphone. While the younger one sat behind a drum set. A "Mom" tattoo strategically drawn on his upper arm.

Oh Dear!

Back to reality. I realized my boys were still banging away at their toys. No makeup, no high hair, no bright lights. Just the sweetness of two boys trying to entertain their Mommy.

I took that opportunity to ask the burning question: "What do you boys want to be when you grow up?"

"We want to be rock stars." They replied.

Just when you think you dodged a bullet; those wonderful beings of yours learn to reload.

No More Character Sneakers

2010-03-28T20:35:00.002-04:00

It's official. My boys are growing up.

How do I know you ask? Well, it's like this.

This past weekend we took the boys sneaker shopping. As usual, I pointed out the cool Spider Man sneakers. But then I saw the Toy Story sneakers and just fell in love. How cute would they look on Scooter?

It was then that I was informed that the boys wanted "Daddy Sneakers."

What are Daddy Sneakers, I thought. Daddy doesn't have Buzz Lightyear or Woody the Cowboy on his sneakers. He just wears those same plain jane sneaks with the race stripe down the side.

"My friends don't wear character sneakers anymore." Potter said.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He is only six years old. And to make matters worse, his little brother was following suit.

I remember those days not so long ago when Mommy got to make the decisions: Cute outfits, cute hats, and of course, cute shoes.

I was outnumbered 3 to 1.

I knew they were going to grow. That's just a given. But I just wasn't ready for how fast they would be doing it.

Well At Least There's Not Bullets In That Thing!

2010-03-23T21:04:00.005-04:00

Raising two boys is never boring. In fact, it has become quite an adventure.

There was a time when I thought I couldn't do it. I understood nothing beyond the realms of skirts and bows. But like everyone advised; things would eventually kick in.

I'm no longer surprised when after I mop to find patches of muddy footprints running from the door to the kitchen.

The familiar clunking sound when I turn on the drier still sends me running to the laundry room. I quickly open the door in an effort to save a pet rock collection.

I've come accustomed to carrying Wet Ones everywhere. Despite the absence of jelly, marshmallow or glue; I've learned that boys are eternally sticky characters.

But the one thing I'm still trying to wrap my brain around is the AIM. I'm referring to that yellow stream that squirts out of my children but fails to accurately hit the bulls eye.

Try as they may in the last year they have taken out a toilet brush (5 points), a plunger (10 points), and a tissue box (20 points- extra points since this sits above the toilet).

In my dreams my children pee Scrubbing Bubbles. (Imagine never having to clean the bathroom again!)

This is the one area where leading by example is not going to work.

"Oh, Hubby? You're needed upstairs. It's time for target practice!"

Suggestions Anyone?

2010-03-22T06:29:00.003-04:00

My morning routine generally consist of the same few things. I get ready, then I get breakfast ready for everyone, throw a load of wash in the machine, then read email until it's time to wake the kids up.

Today was a little different.

I received a most disturbing email. One that I can only foresee was written by a very disgruntled person. It went on not only tearing apart something I wrote (almost 2 years ago), but also speaking of something he would like to do with me.

I welcome comments as much as the next person.

Like everyone else I too fall upon a post that I don't always agree with. I don't waste my time berating someone. I don't expect everyone to think like me. How boring the world would be. Sometimes I offer a comment, and sometimes I don't. Either way, I appreciate the time someone has put into their blog.

I have decided the best way to handle this, is to simply not handle it at all.

I will continue to accept comments. The truth is, the majority of my readership come from some of the kindest people. And despite whether or not we agree with each other, we are still respectful of each others opinions.

Enough "Tiger" Already!

2010-03-17T20:07:00.005-04:00

Is it just me, or is anyone else fed up with this Tiger story?

Honestly. What type of society are we living in when a husband gets to cheat on his wife and then is rewarded with a podium to present his apology during a Special Report?

Best part: His Mom sat front and center to support her son.

Wow! What else can you say but, "Wow"?

I remember a time when we tried to teach our children values. I remember a time when we dared to wander off the path, and the swift kick of a boot was felt on our backside. I felt that boot a few times. I remember a time when it wasn't acceptable to bring so much hurt to another person, and despite our excuses, the last person on earth who would understand was our Mothers.

I don't condone going after anyone with a golf club. But if indeed all the allegations are true, I think I too may have found a new use for a nine iron.

Despite the vows we take, sometimes forever is just not meant to be. For that reason alone we must rely on respect. Do we not owe each other at least that much?

As for the "Big Comeback." Well let's just say, I'm going to pass. I can't speak for Tiger, but some people keep on bandages for longer than this little "break."

If he thinks the hurt he's caused is even close to being healed; he should think about allowing Elin to take another swing. Maybe this time she'll knock a little sense into him!

FORE!

Tushy Massage?

2010-03-14T20:30:00.003-04:00

For the first time in a long while, I had a weekend off. Aside from the threats of a Nor Easter, I was not letting anything stop me from getting a massage.

See, for my birthday (back in October) Hubby and the kids gave me the best gift ever... a gift certificate to the Spa. As luck would have it, I have been busy since then. So I vowed that even if I had to build an Ark, I would row my way to a massage.

And there I was sitting in my bath towel, paging through some design magazine and enjoying a glass of lemon water. I definitely needed this moment to regroup. I'm unfortunately not wealthy enough to enjoy this luxury every month, but I'm smart enough to recognize when my body is ready to shut down from pure neglect.

A happy woman with burgundy highlights (Oh yes she did) came out to greet me. She asked me a few questions about health problems, stress, etc. as we headed to the room. Before long, she began.

The massage was scheduled for 45 minutes. Now keep in mind, I've had massages before. There are all types of massages, but for the most part, you dress down to your undies with no bra. A warm sheet is over you, but is pulled down to your undies when they are working on your back.

Well, apparently I signed up for something just a little different yesterday. Yes my friends, I received a tushy massage.

Do I feel violated? Well, I have to admit, at first I was a little confused since this extra feature was never included in past massages. But then, I had an epiphany, or should I say, a funny memory.

Do you remember that episode of Friends when Phoebe was asked to massage her clients sciatic nerve? Well if you don't, or you never got a chance to see it, I provided a clip. I hope it makes you laugh just as hard as it made me laugh. Sometimes humor is in the strangest of places.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWxL6wrZfuw

Men Down!

2010-03-08T10:29:00.002-05:00

What a week!

There's nothing worse than a blogger who can not get to their computer for an entire week. I'm not exaggerating folks. It all began last Tuesday night.

As were getting ready to head out to Karate practice, Scooter decided to inform me that he had to throw up. Was it my cooking I thought? Surely that was a possibility. But why wasn't the other one vomiting yet?

And then, it happened again. And again. And again. Oh heavens, the mess. Needless to say, we never made it to Karate that night. And of course, Scooter stayed home from school on Wednesday.

By Thursday morning, I wasn't feeling so well. I decided to keep Scooter home another day since he still had that pasty look about him. As we were headed out the door, Potter told me he had pains in his tummy. He said he was OK though, so I brought him to school. (Bad Idea). Within an hour I received a call from his school informing me that my child puked all over the bathroom floor. (Right room, wrong place). By this time I was getting worse, so I called in the troops...Daddy. Hubby unfortunately works over an hour from home, so I still needed to retrieve Potter from school myself.

Upon arrival, I find Potter hunched over a trash can in the nurses office. The puke however was everywhere but in the trashcan. This is the point where my son insist that I need to buy him new sneakers since one of his puke bombs exploded on his feet. (Nice try Potter. It's called soap and water).

So I get both boys home. Luckily my husband heard the urgency in my voice and his car turned into a rocket on the way home. Nothing like love. I ran upstairs and began praying to the porcelain Gods for Mercy. My husband stayed downstairs and helped the children.

I reemerged around dinner time for a little toast. One child looked pale, the other was beginning to get some color back, and poor Hubby looked overwhelmed.

By Friday afternoon, the illness had found Hubby as well. Poor guy went out cold on the couch. By Saturday we were making a go at bouncing back. We were still so exhausted. Sunday was the same way.

Apparently, this flu thing wants to stick around a bit longer. It's now Monday. I'm down 5 pounds (that I won't miss...thank you Dunkin Donuts). And I have to confess; I forced myself into a gym today. I couldn't help myself. I made a promise to be healthier, and I'm sticking to it. Although I feel the need to take a nap today, I may actually take a walk.

The weather is beautiful for the first time in a while. Please God, no more snow!

March is Here!

2010-02-28T20:56:00.003-05:00

There's something about the arrival of March that gets me excited. Despite the snow covered ground, I know that the treat of Spring is just around the corner.

The Philadelphia Flower Show is in town, and unfortunately I will not be able to make it this year. I always look forward to getting some new ideas for the landscape. I'll just have to cross my fingers that the rose bushes survived all this snow. Last summers rain gave them an awful fungus which stuck around till August. And the year before that, those darn beetles ate them for breakfast. I don't claim to have a green thumb, so I could sure use a little help from Mother Nature every now and again.

There's another possible snow storm on the horizon. Everyone is hoping it goes the other way, but our recent luck with the white stuff leaves me thinking the kids will be home again another day this week with Mommy.

Is anyone else out there having a problem with all this snow. If so, are you getting anything done. I have a list a mile long, and something tells me I won't get to the bottom until the official announcement of Summer!

Cabin Fever? That's Just the Half of It!

2010-02-26T09:06:00.003-05:00

Two days ago, I finally started getting excited about Spring. The temperature was in the mid 40's and the snow had melted enough that parts of our front yard were visible once again. My famous Mickey Mouse statue which stands proudly in my garden was able to wave at me as I walked by.

I refused to listen to the weathermen: "Pending Winter Storm Warming Tonight!" No, not another one I thought. The great melt down was occurring and all the weather stations could report were: Blizzard conditions, blustery winds, and 6-12 inches.

In my mind, the pool was already open. I sat on my raft floating on the clear water. Cocktail in hand. SPF 75 slathered on my body, and the cool sounds of Jimmy Buffet playing in the background. It was the perfect setting.

Return to Reality: It's now Friday (2 days later) and still snowing. My pool is hidden under 3 foot high drifts. Oh, Vancouver would be jealous! Wind gusts are 40+ miles an hour.

That's Just the Half of It! I woke up yesterday with a cold. Luckily, my husband was able to work from home and help me out, since the children didn't go to school. I slept most of the afternoon. Despite feeling a little better today, I'm still exhausted, and of course, the children are home again.

But it gets trickier. Tomorrow is Scooter's fifth birthday. We were expecting about 10 people. We have not gone grocery shopping, and that won't even be possible until my husband pulls out the snow blower. Looking out the window only gets me more worried. It's still snowing. I'm unsure if anyone will show up tomorrow, or if we will have any food to offer. Worse case scenario: we will serve pop tarts and Ritz crackers. Nothing like a "Clear out Your Pantry Party!"

So I'm crossing my fingers. At least Supermom was wise enough to go to Party City and buy all the supplies 2 weeks ago. Once I'm done this blog I plan on turning that dining room of mine into a Star Wars play land. We may not get any guest tomorrow, but there's one Jedi that won't soon forget his 5th birthday. Happy Birthday Scooter!!!!

The Great Doubloon Story

2010-02-16T06:41:00.002-05:00

If you think you're suffering from a case of deja vu; you're right. This is one of my favorite post, and in honor of Mardi Gras I couldn't help myself but post it again this year. Have a great day.

Happy Mardi Gras/Fat Tuesday! I don't know what it is about this day, but ever since I taught Kindergarten I felt the need to celebrate it like only a Mom can. Since my kids are still fairly young, I can get away with this silliness. But before I go into one of my tangents, I decided that I would share how we celebrated Mardi Gras last year (which by the way, shall go down in history).
Potter was in Pre-school, and thank goodness his teacher was just as crazy as his Mom. Anyway, he spent the day doing Mardi Gras crafts, then was super excited when he was sent home with beads and doubloons (Which he swore were actual gold coins). Who was I to tell him differently?
We were having a great afternoon, until I heard a scream coming from the bathroom. What could possibly be going on? I opened the door only to find Potter with his pants down leaning over the toilet. "Are you sick," I asked.
"Mommy, my gold coins are all gone," he said.
"Well where did you put them?" I asked.
"Mommy, the toilet took them. When I flushed, they slipped out of my hand, and now they're all gone. You got to get them Mommy. Use the plunger."
On one hand it's nice to think that you're children believe that you are capable of anything. On the other hand it can really suck when your children think you're capable of anything.
I looked at the toilet, then looked at Potter (face still streaming with tears).
I grabbed the plunger, and went to work. Ten minutes later, with perspiration running down my back, I decided to quit. (No doubloons).
Hence, the Great Doubloon Story created and told to Potter, Mardi Gras 2008:
Once Upon a Time there lived in the deep ocean a very poor fish named Marty Graz. He wasn't able to afford all the nice things that his other fishy friends had, but he was still a very happy fish.
On the other side of the world there lived a very happy boy named Potter. Potter lived a very rich life, so much so that he carried his gold coins wherever he went. One day by mistake, Potter left go of his gold coins while using the bathroom. They were flushed and never seen again.
The coins traveled through pipes, streams, rivers, and finally to the deepest depths of the ocean. It was there that a little fish by the name of Marty Graz found the gold coins.
"What to do, what to do,"he thought. "I know, I'll have a parade and call it Marty Graz. And I'll share my new found fortune with my friends.
The smile on Potter's face was priceless.
Being a storyteller has it's perks. Being a poor fish at sea has it's rewards. But being a Mommy is the best job in the world!

Too Smart For His Own Good

2010-02-09T06:28:00.004-05:00

While sitting on my lap during the Super Bowl this past weekend, Scooter brought up a few things to ponder:

"Hey Mom, is this football game alive?" He said.

"Alive?" I questioned. "I think you mean live Scooter. Yes, it's going on right now in Florida."

"Florida?" "That's where Disney World is Mom. That's where we are going! Can we see the football players when we go? Are they in Disney World?"

"No Scooter, the football players are in Miami."

"Can we go to Your Ami when we go to Florida?"

(Laughing hysterically) "Not Your Ami, Scooter. Miami!"

(Confused) "That's what I said Mom! Your Ami!"

"No Scooter, we cannot go to Miami when we visit Florida."

(Pause) "Will it be gone too, like the football players?"

"No Scooter, it will still be there, it's just too far from Disney World."

(Pause) "Maybe you can ask Daddy to drive?"

"I like that answer too, Scooter."

What's Wrong With Your Blog?

2010-02-04T06:22:00.002-05:00

The phone rang around 8pm last night. It was my mother.

"What's wrong with your blog?" She asked.

Quickly, I rewound the day; trying ever so anxiously to remember my last post. "What had I released into bloggy land this time?" Occasionally I speak of controversial topics, but lately I've laid pretty low. One cannot avoid rubbing elbows when a controversial topic is brought about. But I'm like the rest of you. If we can keep our mothers at bay, we do so with the greatest of ease. Tip toeing on hot coals is not the way I want to spend the day.

I have received these calls before. It's funny how they rarely come when I expect them. It's generally my low key articles (or those I believe to be low key) that make the hair stand up on the backs of others.

So there I am last night waiting for the ball to drop when my mom tells me to log into my blog. She says: "There's this advertisement right over the middle of your writing, and it keeps following me when I scroll down the screen."

I had no idea what she was talking about.

So I logged on. And let me just say I was shocked. My blog design had disappeared. What remained was a stark white background. And just as my mother had reported, there was an advertisement that chased me to the bottom.

"What had happened?'' I thought. I was just logged in a few hours before and everything was fine. Now I was starring at a total mess. I didn't even know where to begin. Was this the work of some clever hacker? Had someone discovered my password? Or was it possible that before I turned off my computer my normal clumsy self clicked on some secret button which sent a message to the bloggy underworld requesting an immediate deactivation of services?

So what did I do? I turned off the computer, and watched TV. Honestly, these problems looked way too big for me to solve, and I wasn't about to pretend I knew where to start.

When I woke up this morning I couldn't wait to turn on my computer. The cliche "Time heals all wounds," is without a doubt a truth. I don't know how to explain it, but things were back to normal. My background reappeared and there were no funny advertisements running up and down the middle. Go Figure!

So what lesson did I learn from all this drama? Well, even though my readership may not be that high, I can still count on my mother to be my number one fan. Mother's are the one's that will tell you when your skirt is too short, your makeup too dark, and of course, your blog, totally screwed up.

Nice To Be Home

2010-02-01T06:21:00.005-05:00

Well, I just got back from New York City, and what can I say? I think I'll start with: "I'm glad to be home."

Don't get me wrong. New York has some wonderful things to offer, and I took them up on a few. But I must say, it's so different than the lifestyle I am use to in Pennsylvania.

Let me begin with my arrival at Penn Station. It was like a cattle call. Everyone seemed to know where they were going except me. And despite all the signs, not one said: "Follow Me Mary!" Surely they were expecting me. I stuck out like a sore thumb.

My husband joined me for this trip, and, well, Thank God. I likely would have picked a corner to curl up in if it hadn't been for him.

Off to the taxi stand we strolled. It was only 17 degrees outside. That whole thing about "New York Drivers" is true. If you want to see your life flash before your eyes, by all means, hop in a taxi. The arrival at the Grand Hyatt was like landing at heavens door. Bon Voyage Yellow Car!

Most of my weekend was spent in the SCBWI Conference (Society for Children's Book Writer's and Illustrator's). Which by the way is never disappointing. It gives me time to reflect on why I need to focus more time on my writing, and a little less time on my blogging. What can I say? I'm a bit scattered. I think my husband said it best: "It doesn't sell sitting on your desk." Oh, don't you hate it when they're right.

The rest of the weekend was spent eating (my favorite),walking (not so much), a Broadway show (awesome), and shopping (need I even add an adjective here?).

The quote for the weekend came from my husbands lips: "I think my eyes are frozen." (Spoken ever so softly at around 7pm Saturday while walking to our show. It was 12 degrees at the time).

We followed the rest of the cattle back onto the train Sunday afternoon. With all the hustle and bustle of the weekend, the train ride was absolutely the most peaceful moment.

I have to tip my hat to you New Yorker's. You move at a pace that only my treadmill understands. It's always nice to visit. But gosh, it's much nicer to come home.

A "Chance" of What?

2010-01-21T06:27:00.005-05:00

So while I sit here pondering what subject matter to tackle for my next blog; the sound of the morning news plays in the background. I hear those dreaded words: "Wintery Mix."

This caught me a little by surprise. See, I'm an avid news watcher. I could even be referred to as a news junkie. It all begins in the wee hours with the local news. It then moves right into the Today show. While I'm completing my morning chores, the morning paper is likely to be draped over the kitchen island. This method allows me to glance at headlines while I pass by. I continue my obsession of news nerdiness throughout the day by occasionally stopping and reading the front pages of national newspapers generally found at the local doughnut shop. (Go Figure!)

So when the weatherman said those dreaded words this morning, the average Joe may believe that I already had the plow hooked up to the minivan. No Sir EEE!

Instead, little Ms. Maestro has been visiting websites anxiously choosing her Spring flower collection. Oh, I know, it's still January, and I live in Pennsylvania. Even the ski slopes haven't experienced their best weather yet.

But I can't help it...I'm Tropical. As a matter of fact I have always been this way. And I deeply depend on the Weatherman like most people depend on that stupid groundhog Punxsutawney Phil.

So when the word: "chance" came out of the weatherman's mouth this morning, you can imagine I wasn't happy. Especially since I had been watching the news all week and there was no mention of this "chance" before today.

See, us Pennsylvanians know all too well what chance means: A foot of snow will be greeting me tomorrow morning as I open the drapes. But not before the phone rings at 5am. It will be my son's school informing me that we have a delay of 2 hours. Basically that means I have just 2 hours to do the normal morning chores plus now I have to shovel the porch, sidewalk and driveway. In addition, I'll need to crack that code on the gate that freezes and prevents us from loading the car on our first try. So I will march the children back through the house and exit out the front door instead. Oh, I'm already dreading tomorrow.

Well I'm unsure just how much the weatherman will be tweaking his latest prediction, but as for me, I have my own:

There's a "chance" I will be staying home under the covers tomorrow morning.

Chicken Nuggets, French Fries And a Pack of Napkins

2010-01-18T14:42:00.006-05:00

With the recent holiday weekend I've had a chance to spend a little extra time with the boys. Of course we decided to eat out once or twice. Without a doubt this got the wheels a turning. Nothing like a night out with the family to help inspire a fresh blog post.

My boys are now 6 and 4. I have always enjoyed going out to dinner with them, even through the terrible twos when kicking and screaming was the high point of dinner conversation.

I vividly remember Potter going through the "I'm too big for a high chair phase," and the "I'm too small for a regular chair phase," at the same time. Nothing like trying to balance a toddler on your lap while attempting to digest a meal at the Olive Garden. My husband would just give me that look. The one that said: "Why are we here?" "Couldn't we have waited another 2 years?"

Well, I guess we could have waited. But I live under the assumption that there is a lesson in everyday life. I wondered who would teach my children how to act in a restaurant if they didn't get to experience it until they were six. I have witnessed those children. I've also watched the mother balance her toddler on her lap while attempting to eat her lasagna. (Been there, done that!)

While we are still working on "best behavior practices," we have yet to master the art of spilling. Despite the lovely person (undoubtedly a mother) who invented the safety lid, my children have learned how to to tip their cups in such a way as to blow a lid right off the top. At this rate we should just offer them champagne flutes.

In the years of their existence, I have yet to sit at a dry table. I have finally realized that celebrating a "no spill" dinner takes place in the parking lot. For if I bring up the subject at the table, inevitably the children will get so excited that one is guaranteed to push over a cup.

And everyone knows what that means....Check Please!

To Digress or Not to Digress: That is the Question!!

2010-01-11T06:31:00.006-05:00

Digress: to deviate or wander away from the main topic or purpose in speaking or writing; depart from the principal line of argument, plot, study, etc. (dictionary.com)

I recently looked up the definition of this word. Why you ask? Well, I noticed that there's a lot of this going on out there. Out there is of course referring to the Bloggy World.

Every time I turn around I'm reading about someone digressing. Whether it's in the beginning, middle or end of their story; digression seems to have a place everywhere.

Just throw down a Welcome Mat, and invite digression in.

As if the typical Mom doesn't have enough to throw her off track. She must now be expected to digress while blogging.

Maybe I'm just worrying too much about this whole thing. Maybe it's just another fad. It will pass in time just like Atari, Cabbage Patch Dolls and Tickle Me Elmo. (Wow, did I date myself there).

On the other hand, maybe I could learn a little from digression. Instead of typing like a wild woman, barreling through a story at rapid speed. All the while my children have taken over the homestead from all corners. Before an average blog is completed I am surrounded by army men with heavy artillery aimed at Yours Truly. Weapons of Mass Destructive have another name in this house: Potter and Scooter. But instead of digressing, I hunker down and own that story. I am a Mom on a mission.

So I wondered, if one is not digressing these days, what exactly are they doing?

Synonym for digress: ramble. (dictionary.com)

You must be kidding Me.......Really?

Who's Coming To Your Funeral?

2010-01-07T16:50:00.003-05:00

Got your attention didn't I?

Well, it all started like this: I was picking Scooter up from preschool the other day. He attends a Catholic preschool so the church and school are connected. There are usually an abundance of parking spaces to choose from, but on that day, it was different.

The parking lot was filled, almost every space. While riding up and down the isles I finally noticed the orange flags on some of the cars which indicated there was a funeral. After a hectic search, I did find a place to park. As I sat in my minivan, I began to wonder about this sea of cars. There had to be over one hundred. Had someone important died?

Outside the church there was a lone bagpiper. This was a first for me, although some of the other parents waiting for their kids informed me that it wasn't out of the ordinary to see a bagpiper at a funeral. I shook my head politely, but silently remembered to myself that the last bagpiper I saw was marching in the Fourth of July Parade.

I wondered who all these people were who came to this funeral today? What part did they play in this person's life? Did they know him at all, or was it just his reputation that made them want to come and pay their respects.

I don't often think of death (aside from this past Monday when I hired a personal trainer to get me back on track for the New Year). It's not usually until I have a funeral to attend myself that I go into "what if" mode.

What if there was no tomorrow? Who would show up to my funeral? Aside from my immediate family and a few friends; it's really hard to say.

I'd imagine the girls from my critique group may make a stop. However, I would excuse those of them that may be promoting their books that day.

Most of the friends I've made blogging have indicated at one time or another that they live far from my Pennsylvania home. And since there is generally a few days gap separating my post, chances are none of them would notice I'm gone until Blogger shut down the account.

The folks from the 3 surrounding Dunkin Donuts should stop by, or at best, offer my family a lifetime membership in the Donut of the Month Club. Let's face it, due to my overwhelming addiction to coffee and muffins, I feel I am partly responsible for the BMW parked behind the D&D.

A few of my Avon customers may drop by that day. But then again, they could just be relieved that no one will be pestering them to buy another mascara for the rest of their lives.

My neighbors are truly a crap shoot. See, there are the neighbors that borrow sugar from you, and then there are the neighbors that just wave when you pass on by. There are the neighbors that go to your funeral. And then there are the neighbors that gather at the bus stop and talk about what a swell gal you were. And of course, let us not forget the neighbors that will continue to borrow sugar whether I'm alive or six feet under.

The girls and the one gentleman at my nail salon may definitely make an appearance. That is, as long as I don't pass on a Saturday. This is their busiest day. I would hope however that they give me a complimentary mani and pedi before I cross over. First impressions are everything, and I would like God to believe this Fashionista came prepared.

When it comes right down to it, I suppose it really doesn't matter who comes. It's not like I'll ever know. I have a big problem with a party being thrown in my honor; when I can't even be there to enjoy a cocktail.

Well, if you are one of those people who felt sad, overwhelmed or obligated to attend my big day; let me thank you a million times in advance. However, if you rather just talk about what a swell gal I was, that's OK too. My sugar bowl will always be full.

Always a Blackbelt

2010-01-04T20:22:00.005-05:00

Tonight, the tails from his black belt laid heroically along his legs.

Six years ago, the wires from his heart monitor lay gently above his blanket.

Tonight, he held his skinny frame tall. All 46 pounds of him stood proud.

Six years ago, I could hold his 3lb body in the palm of one hand.

Tonight I watched as my older son, the one we call Potter, accept his Student of the Month Award at his Karate School. The speech from his Sensei was followed by the honor of receiving a black belt with a gold stripe through the middle. He was told the black symbolized what he still had to achieve; the gold symbolized what he has achieved already.

Tears streaming from my eyes, his grandmom and I fought over the best camera angles. His little brother Scooter stood with Pop Pop wondering what all the fuss was about, but realized something big was happening, because for a few minutes, even he quieted down.

The first time I laid eyes on my son, the doctor held him above me for a moment then quickly had him rolled away to the NICU. I was not allowed to hold him. The second time I saw my son, his body was being helped to breathe by a ventilator. I whispered: "Potter, it's Mommy." His jaundiced body turned toward my voice and he held tightly onto my finger. I learned that day the meaning of strength.

Tonight again he grabbed me tightly. But this time, his arms ran closely around my waist.

He gets to wear his special belt for the entire month of January, then he will return back to his purple belt. It may just take that long for him to understand just how far he has come. Or like most kids, he may not get it until he's much older.

As I reminisce over the hundreds of hours of physical therapy, the swimming, soccer and karate; one thing I know for certain: This child has always been a black belt.

Saying Goodbye To Christmas

2010-01-02T18:14:00.003-05:00

The mantle is now empty. Where once the stockings hung for nearly a month, there now sits a few candles I found on sale at Kohls last year.

It's hardly believable that all those decorations fit into this tiny room. On one hand it feels nice to be able to reclaim our living space back. On the other hand though there's an emptiness. It's as if we packed all the joy that is Christmas into twelve Rubbermaid containers; the same containers that will sit undisturbed for an entire year in our storage room until the children remind us it's once again time to put up a tree.

As I sit on my couch tonight I can't help but reminisce about the fantastic week that I have had with my children. It feels as though we've had a month together.

I couldn't wait to pick them up from school to begin their Christmas vacation. They were both so excited. We began Christmas Eve morning at the local Perkins enjoying breakfast.

Christmas Eve night is traditionally spent at my Moms house. Aunt Debbie made a lasagna fit for a king. The children enjoyed opening their stockings. And we all ran outside to see Santa pass by on the fire truck.

Once we returned home, I brought the boys outside to sprinkle reindeer food on our front lawn (a mixture of oatmeal and glitter). Before long they were both fast asleep.

Santa's arrival brought an abundance of toys and gifts for all. The children had a hard time deciding just what toys to play with that day. The grandparents joined us for a gift exchange and dinner that night.

The rest of the week was filled with this, that and the other things (to put it mildly). Hubby spent time with the boys building their new Lego sets; time he generally doesn't have during a regular work week. We spent every waking moment with our boys. It truly has been special.

New Years Eve was spent in our Living Room. While we watched our 6 year old curl up and fall asleep on the recliner, our rambunctious 4 year old gave it hell and made it right into 2010 without incident. Mom and Hubby kissed and were finally glad to be heading to bed.

The last day of vacation will be spent getting ready for tomorrow. Digging out the book bags, lunch boxes and school clothes. Not to worry, everything will come to a halt by 4pm. It is then that the Philadelphia Eagles will be taking on the Dallas Cowboys.......Go Eagles!

I have enjoyed the many blessings that have come my way in 2009. Saying goodbye to Christmas is never an easy task. I look forward to the New Year and all it has in store.

Productivity I Seek, Love I Have Found!

2009-12-29T18:26:00.008-05:00

If you haven't made that New Years resolution yet, let me be the first to remind you that there are only 2 days left.

I'd like to say that I have something original up my sleeve, but the truth is, one resolution just isn't enough. In a nutshell, I guess my resolution this year is productivity.

While millions of people will spend January on treadmills, stationary bikes and crowded gyms; I will take pride in the fact that those 4 pounds I lost in August have taken refuge on someone else's thighs. And while it may have taken 4 whole months to loose just 4 pounds, it took only 4 minutes to engulf a whole cinnamon bun this morning. (Where's the fairness?) Needless to say, weight will not be at the top of my resolution list.

Many of you know me as Mommy Maestro; the woman who pops out essay after essay about the daily adventures of being a Mom. This blog has become home for some of the craziness that I experience every day. And although 2009 may have been a productive blog year, I failed to produce the book I've been working so hard to finish. Year 2010 is my goal to complete this project, and the many other's that have unfortunately been allowed to collect dust.

This year I will stay on track. The first three months I will work on the business I set up last year (I am half way there!) I will take my continuing education courses; and yes, maybe even loose the next four pounds.

Productivity comes in many forms, and I think some of us loose site at just how productive we really are. Sure, I thought I would have a book done by now. I thought I would be in a classroom teaching at some prestigious school. I thought there would be enough money in the bank for a rainy day. But here's what I've been really doing: "I've been a Mom!"

I've wiped floors,butts and noses. I've given up sleep so that I could watch a child breathe when they felt sick. I've walked, carpooled and been towed. I've searched high and low for a child's favorite toy only to find that it was in their bed the entire time. I've read stories, written stories, and reenacted stories. I have praised and I have scolded. I have taught one how to hold a fork, pencil and their tongue. I have laughed. I have cried. I have felt total exhaustion. I have known many feelings, but they all hold a close second to the one I get when the arms of my children are wrapped tightly around me.

Productivity I seek. Love I have Found!

Fa La La La La......It's Over!

2009-12-26T19:05:00.006-05:00

A month and a half of total hype, and it's finally over. That's right. I'm talking about Christmas.

Seems like I've been preparing for the day right after I carved that lovely Halloween pumpkin. And every year, it seems to begin just a little earlier. At the rate commercialism is going, I figure we'll be celebrating July 4th and Christmas together soon enough. Christmas in July will have a whole new meaning.

On a positive note I have to report that Christmas at the Brennan Ranch was near perfect. As usual, Toys R Us set up a satellite store right in the middle of our Living Room. As if we had room for all that stuff before the holiday arrived. Even with my consignment action plan in full swing, I failed to empty the house as quickly as it filled back to the brim Christmas Eve...Damn Claus!

Although Santa forgot the fruit cake and Figgy Pudding, he made up for that small lapse with a brand new Kindle. Oh Yes My Friends, despite my failed relationship with technology, the stars aligned, and the man in red, or shall I say the man with red hair (Hubby) contributed to the spirit of the holiday and satisfied Mommy's materialism. And although it is still in it's box next to the fireplace, I promise to report on this magnificent present by the end of next week.

It's always great when the kids appear to love everything they received on Christmas morning. It's even nicer when their parents love the toys just as much as the kids do.

I'm not bragging or anything, but let's just say there's a new Guitar Hero in town. Toy Story Mania for Wii also kept me busy for a while. Along with Leapster 2 and a amazing amount of stocking stuffers.

I did make one mistake however while choosing a present for Scooter. I purchased a Lego Winnebago from the Toys R Us online outlet thinking it would make a great stocking stuffer. Too bad I didn't read the dimensions. Needless to say, in between hitting flying targets and guitar riffs I was made to build an amazing double decker trailer equipped with sleeper, mugs, bike and surf board. It included 75 pieces and took the greater part of the entire day to complete. Imagine my face when the grandparents walked in with the Lego Fire Company (700 pieces). And you wonder why I dye my hair?

I'd like to mention one last present I received over the holidays. It was a Kreative Blogger Award from my friend at The Adventures of Fred and Ethel

Now, as some of you already know, I don't get caught up in the blogging awards. Although I find it flattering that there are people out there who actually spend their precious time reading my thoughts, it becomes quite time consuming to follow all the steps required by the award, and before you know it, another day has passed, writer cramp has set in, your popping Tums in record number because you haven't left the couch for a decent meal in hours, hence you have been forced to munch on those chocolates that expired sometime last month.

So, in an effort to add a few years to my life, I must keep my acceptance of awards to a minimum. But it comes with great gratitude to acknowledge this award. If you have not already stopped by The Adventures of Fred and Ethel, I insist you do so today.

I believe it was this wild woman who found me first (where, I do not know), but upon reading her blog I can honestly say it was love at first sight. Her honesty and well written material will have you addicted immediately. Not to mention her humor. I once read one of her blogs that she swears was entirely written by her cat (a truly talented family). A million and one thanks!

My Christmas is now complete!

When Hubby Holds The Remote

2009-12-21T20:14:00.003-05:00

While the 50/50 rule may apply in my marriage, I think I would have to say that there are just those things in our home that belong exclusively to one of us.

Take for instance the television. Now while it may sit in our Living Room (a spot which is shared by the entire family); I can say with absolute certainty that the television belongs to Hubby.

It's been a year since we purchased "Freddy Krueger" (the nickname I gave to the oversized scary appliance that's disguised as a television). With it's many remotes, endless assortment of channels and surround sound; it makes a girl wish for the days when one had to turn a dial and rely on clear weather for good reception.

Since the installation of "Freddy," an influx of reality TV has been previewed on the Brennan Ranch. So much reality TV is viewed in fact, that at times it's difficult to decipher reality from fiction in our home.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind a little reality TV. It's just that since the first installment of Survivor, everything is reality. Unless your willing to watch an entire day of Lifetime Originals (which by the way is based on real stories), you're out of luck.

I literally cringe when the remote is in Hubby's hands, for I know another segment of reality TV will find its way into our living room.

As I sit and write this blog, Hubby sits just 10 feet away watching Pawn Stars: a show about a family run pawn shop in Las Vegas.....Yawn! O.K. Maybe it's not that bad. There is a bit of humor, but the thought of someone making a show out of poor souls who can't pay their rent so they have to sell every valuable they have left really makes no sense to me.

But then there are the days when Cake Boss rules the air ways. Cake Boss follows the daily life of Buddy Valastro and his family owned bakery. There's never a dull moment in this show. If it's drama you're looking for, you'll fall in love with the family. If it's unusual cakes you're looking for, you'll fall in love with Buddy. If it's a happy husband you're looking for: Google recliner.

Ahh, but reality TV would not be complete without some of the best moments in television this year found on some of Hubby's favorites: Parking Wars, Dirty Jobs, Deadliest Catch, and last but not least: Jon and Kate Plus Eight (A reality trapped inside a reality).

In the last 12 months I've learned how to talk myself out of a ticket; how to clean a Port A Potty; how to distinguish between a male and female crab; and last but not least: how to make a million dollars on a book deal and hide it all from my husband.

Who says all reality TV is pointless?

"Fire In The Hole!"

2009-12-18T07:20:00.006-05:00

I don't claim to be Paula Dean. For that matter, I am no Julia Child or even a Sara Lee.

I microwave with shear precision. I can reheat a dish like no one's business. I have mastered the art of kilowatts, which in layman's terms comes down to knowing the difference between High and Low heat.

If there was such thing as the Microwave Queen, well, my dear friends, I would have earned my crown years ago.

Despite this fascination I hold with appliances that cook food in the blink of an eye, every now and then I turn to that square piece of steel for added support....the oven.

It was another simple night of fast food at the Brennan Ranch: spaghetti and meatballs with a side of garlic bread. "What could go wrong?"

I had cooked this dish many times before. I generally heat the water and the sauce on the stove. I defrost the mini meatballs in the microwave (sometimes they are made from scratch, but only on the weekends). I dump the meatballs in the sauce, and the spaghetti in the boiling water. Once the oven is preheated, I place the garlic bread on broil.

I stir, sniff, then taste every minute or so until things are just right.

But sometimes, despite your greatest efforts, every minute or so is just not enough. Every minute or so can be the difference between a tasty cuisine and a charcoal brick.

One minute I was starring at a delicious loaf of garlic bread; the next minute I was starring at a fire ball.

It's amazing at how quickly these things can happen. I was looking so forward to a nice meal, even if it wasn't made from scratch.

I quickly removed the flaming pan from the oven, chucked it into the sink and blew it down with a stream of water. What began as a loving family meal ended in a mushy burnt mess.

And just when you think you've destroyed the meal for the night, out of the corner of your eye you catch your children nibbling on that fantastic dish.

They're field mice I tell you! You can't get a vegetable in them, but serve a loaf of charcoal, and it's a feast!

I savor these moments because I know that I will most certainly burn more meals. But there will come a time in my children's lives when they realize that charcoal belongs in the bottom of a grill; not in their diet.

Naughty or Nice?

2009-12-16T06:40:00.004-05:00

Let's face it, we all have rules. The rules we have for our children may be based on safety, love or just passed down through the generations. Sometimes we don't even know who made the rule; it's just that it seemed smart at the time.

With all the hustle and bustle of the season, I have suddenly noticed an influx of rules around the Brennan Ranch. Maybe because there is so much extra stuff laying around that we are forced to keep our children in some kind of holiday bubble just until the last key of Auld Lang Syne is sung.

For whatever the reason, here are just a few of the newest antidotes quoted by Mommy Maestro:

1) "I told you to put on your socks, not your Christmas stockings. Good luck on trying to get your sneaker over those things!"

2) "I'm sure there are wiser places to stick that candy cane than in your nostril!"

3) "It's a train track, not a race track. Thank you very much Mario Andretti!"

4) "They're called Christmas lights, not strobe lights. Kindly remove your fingers from the receptacle."

5)"Go ahead, I dare you to ring those bells again. I'll make wings myself for that damn angel!"

6) "You have how many kids in your class? All right, candy canes for everyone!"

7) "The dog is not a reindeer. I repeat, the dog is not a reindeer!"

8) "Yes, hot coco is hot. If you wanted it cold, could you kindly next time request a glass of chocolate milk?"

9) "No, we can not buy a reindeer, we have a dog. You may remember me already warning you that she is not a reindeer."

10) "If you have any plans of climbing a tree this holiday season, you better check for roots first!"

By the Chimney With Care?

2009-12-13T21:31:00.002-05:00

So I found this great Toy Store in my area. A little higher priced than that Big Boxed Famous Giraffe Toting ("Sorry Mame, we're out of Zulu Pets") one you may have heard of.

There are no carts, so you don't have to worry about banging into Ms. Gotta Have The Last Star Wars Figure. In fact, they don't even sell things like that.

The toys you find here are the ones you play with (I mean the kids play with) for hours. These aren't the toys you find stuffed at the back of closets. No sir!

These are the toys your children beg you to bring to Show and Tell their first day back from Christmas Vacation (despite it's net weight being heavier than said child). These are the toys that show up in every picture ever taken of your children whether it be in their hand, or in close proximity, making a really cool backdrop for the holidays.

So there I was salivating at the front of the store wondering where was this diamond in the ruff when I was a child. I quickly tried to regain composure. "Must buy stocking stuffers," was my mantra. "What a cool magic set," I thought aloud. Wait, no, "Must buy stocking stuffers!"

This is a dangerous store. I should have gone in with horse blinders. And within minutes, I was back on track. And within a few minutes more, I was wishing my children's stockings were much larger than the standard Santa regulated size. "Why couldn't they be more like pillowcases?" I mean honestly, Martha Stewart knew what she was doing: standard, Queen, King, Super King, California King. Does she even know that California isn't the largest state? If I were to get to be a kid again, I would definitely invent the Alaskan King Stocking.

As I began loading my basket with the coolest trinkets known to man it got me thinking about the things Santa left in my stocking as a child: toothbrush, shampoo, perfume, nail polish.

No wonder I have a complex. Was Santa trying to convey a message? "Hey kid, take a bath!" "Here's a few things to get you started."

I finally made it to the checkout in just under 30 minutes. Not too bad I thought. And then I received the result.

"That will be $120.00 today!"

"Are you serious?" I asked. "I only bought stocking stuffers! Did you get that coupon I handed you? Can I have a recount? I only have 2 children!"

She just smiled, and reached for my credit card.

Well, that mantra worked like a charm. Next years mantra will be better: "Save Money On Stocking Stuffers.....Insert Foot!"

Zumba Stole My Soul

2009-12-07T15:55:00.004-05:00

I love trying new things. I say this in reference to experiences.

So there I was in the gym the other day looking over the class schedule.

Now mind you, although I joined this awesome gym back in August, I have yet to take a class.

Why? you ask. Well, it's like this....children!

As most Mommies know, when it comes to scheduling your day, it's a crap shoot. Let's face it, if something doesn't spill at the breakfast table, your day is off to a good start. If you make it out the door without someone declaring they have to pee; they already peed in their pants; or something is stuck in their zipper (and it's not a shirt); you have in essence had a miracle bestowed upon you.

So when Hubby told me he was taking off on Monday, I jumped at the chance to become Jane Fonda for a day.

Since I've always loved to dance, I decided to give the Zumba Class a try. Set to Latin music, this class combines dance and exercise for an hour of exciting caloric burn.

"Did I just say that out loud?"

What I can tell you is despite what you may have been able to do with your body when you were young- things change!

So there I was in the middle of the studio surrounded by women twice my age, who thought it would be nice to share their stories about how hot flashes work, and how 2 out of 10 were experiencing one that very moment.

"Good Lord, I thought. "Someone call 911!"

I'm trained in CPR, but I really had no plans of testing out those skills during Zumba.

Well, as the story goes: "Never judge a book by it's cover."

I don't know what supplements these ladies take every morning, but sadly I have to report that they were in better shape than myself. I've never seen anything like it in my life since the 80's when the movie Cocoon became a big hit.

I was stuck right in the middle of some cosmic geriatric conundrum. I watched as these older women swayed side to side demonstrating the Charleston with unfounded Super Powers, while I gasped for air with a load of kryptonite on my back.

When the girls informed me that Zumba is an hour long class rather than the 45 minutes I expected, I felt my heart skip a beat. Despite my CPR training, I had never learned to perform it on myself.

The words: "You did it ladies, you're done!" came none to soon. Suddenly angels were playing harps, and I regained consciousness.

I received many pats on the back from the troops who watched in amazement my stunning finish. I'm sure they each secretly called Vegas and placed bets on whether that finish would really occur.

And so, I have just six days to recover before I do it all again.

"What you ask, why would I do such a thing?"

Well it's like this...children!"

If this class gives me the energy that some of those other women have; I should have this Mommy thing down in oh, 18 years.

"Zumba, you stole my soul, but not my spirit!"

If Everyone Could be Pet....Smart!

2009-12-02T06:18:00.005-05:00

Funny story: Just yesterday I was sitting down petting my dog Harley. I began talking to her like any good owner does. I asked her how she was feeling and what she wants for Christmas.

Now, you can act like that's all crazy; but seriously, I know you do it too. I continued to tell her how I had to get her groomed again soon. I love picking Harley up from the groomer. Her coat shines, she smells so wonderful (for about 24 hours, then reverts back to Doggy Scent), and if I'm lucky, the groomer finds some cute ribbons to place in her hair.

As I continued my vision of Doggy Utopia, the phone rang. I quickly looked at the caller ID which read: Pet Smart. That's odd I thought. I usually call them.

As I picked up the phone, I heard a friendly voice on the other end: "Hi, this is Julie, we we're wondering if you would like to make an appointment for Harley for her Holiday Grooming?"

"Holy Crap," I thought. Who is this Julie girl? Apparently some medium who sucks the thoughts from unsuspecting housewives. Frightened as I was, I quickly made an appointment with Julie. I began to tell her that I was just talking to my dog about how she needed a grooming. As the words left my mouth, I realized how ridiculous I sounded. Julie politely laughed, but I know what she was thinking: "If I have to call one more crazy person this season, I'm throwing in the towel."

After I hung up, I began to think about that strange coincidence....or was it? Maybe I need to talk out loud more often. Maybe I should just share my thoughts with my dog? What could it hurt? And so I began:

"So Harley, do you think Hubby will get me that Kindle this Christmas?"

Quickly I ran to the phone searching for the words Amazon.com on my caller I.D.

But aside from the word Pet Smart, it remained blank.

"Would I stop there, oh, probably not."

I continued talking aloud about other items that needed to be bought and/or repaired:

"So tired of the automatic doors opening by themselves on my car."

"Wish the food would actually rinse off while in the dishwasher."

"My house looks like crap, but boy does my Home Page shine."

"The account can't be empty, I still have checks left."

I checked the caller I.D. once more:

Mercedes Benz? (Nope)

Maytag? (Nope)

Merry Maids? (Nope)

Publisher's Clearinghouse? (Not a chance)

And so I must face the harsh reality: There is a difference in going to Pet Smart, and being Pet....Smart!

The phone did ring again that night, but you know the saying: "If it's not one thing, it's your Mother!"

When Your Personal Trainer Calls It Quits!

2009-11-29T20:46:00.002-05:00

Last July I joined the most wonderful gym. Sure, I've joined gyms before, but this one was different. I literally salivated as I was given the tour. It was pristine! Unlike anything I've ever seen.

To begin, I was greeted by a waterfall in the lobby. The gym even had it's own spa. It offered swimming lessons for my children (which was it's main selling point). In addition, it even offered to watch the boys for an hour while I worked out during the summer. This is the help I needed.

My membership included a personal trainer who designed an incredible workout. He even checks in with me regularly. Which unfortunately this month, ended up being, a not so good thing.

As I opened my email tonight I read the words: "Did not make your goal."

"What, how could that be?" I thought.

But then I thought some more:

Turkey, cornbread, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, pumpkin pie, lions and tigers and bears OH MY!

"What have I done?"

First thing Monday morning after I drop the kids off at school, guess where I'll be?

That's right, you guessed it, Dunkin Doughnuts!

Who couldn't use a nice hot cup of coffee before their workout?

And Then The Dog Ate My Pastry!

2009-11-22T20:40:00.002-05:00

Six years ago I decided to have children. After discovering there was no direction manual, I almost threw in the towel. I mean for God sakes. Who gives you something that large and decides: "Just figure it out yourself." Even my Bow flex came with a video.

So I'm doing the best I know how, and whether that is good enough, only time will tell. I gathered the boys together this morning and headed to church. I thought this would be a good idea (since we had missed a few weeks). We quickly rehearsed the rules of church in the minivan. As we entered, I blessed myself with holy water, then moved aside so the boys could do the same. Potter did a fine job. Then it was Scooter's turn.

"I'm not sticking my hand in there," He said.

"It's holy water," I told him.

"Nope, I'm not doing it," He warned again.

For goodness sake. I don't know what got into the boy. The only thing I could figure was he saw a bowl of water and thought the next thing I was going to make him do was bathe. He can roll around in mud for hours, but let him see water in any other shape than a mud puddle, and he runs the other way.

Well, in a nutshell, that was the type of day it would be. All in all, this was one of their better days. With the week we have before us, my head is spinning as how we are going to complete our list.

I'm still trying to figure how I'm going to turn the dining room back into something I recognize. Yesterday, I hosted an Avon Open House. It turned out wonderful, but unfortunately it still resembles the likeness of a Macy's window display. "God, give me strength!"

While I was busy with customers, my sister decided it would be hysterical to change my screen saver into a picture of herself. Nothing like finding that image at 7am. And although I've tackled Bloggy Land with much vigor, I am a product of the 80's. Which basically means my computer skills came in the form of a game called PONG. There was a blinking square where my cursor left off, and my Radio Shack computer screen was absent of color. I didn't hear the word internet until I was almost out of college. If someone told me to click a mouse, I would tell them: "You click it first." Needless to say, my sister's picture may be a permanent addition to my computer.

When the kids finally went down for the night, I couldn't wait to get my hands on the left over pastry from yesterday. But as usual, my mind was in many places, and I forgot that I placed my pastry on the coffee table. (The same coffee table where Harley was sitting.)

Before I knew it; my pastry had been claimed. Claimed by an 11lb poodle mix. Probably 12 lbs. after that pastry.

Luckily, there was more. I'm currently trying to work off the pastry by typing at rapid speeds. Harley however has given in, and has slowly crept into a sugar coma.

Sweet dreams Harley Dog, Sweet Dreams!

Thanksgiving. It's for the Birds!!!!

2009-11-19T20:33:00.004-05:00

There's nothing like sticking your warm hands into a three foot deep freezer searching frantically for the perfect Thanksgiving bird. Butterball.com in it's infinite wisdom provided a calulator for us newbies which help you figure out how much turkey is needed based on the number you've invited to dinner.

It's funny how this works out. Because although I may be hosting Thanksgiving once again, I rarely know how many are coming until they actually show up that day. And may I add, that it really doesn't matter, because in my mother's infinite wisdom, she realized that I will never cook a turkey and therefore takes on the job herself.

At last count we were at 11 guests. Let's not forget the 2 who will be joining us by Skype. (I'm unsure how that works. Do I set a place for them also?)

Turns out that according to the math, we will be needing a 21 pound bird. The butcher told us to come back because he just put in an order for a shipment of 20 plus pound birds. It didn't look too promising. I told my Mom to cook (2) 10 and a half pound birds. I guess that comment alone got me kicked off kitchen duty. When I was asked how I planned on fitting both in the oven and I gave the answer: "We can microwave one," it just added insult to injury.

While I was writing this post I received notice from Mom that they found a 21 pound bird. I'm unsure exactly where they found it. For all I know it was a clean shot. (Need I go any further?) If Mom gives thanks for her new down comforter on the big day, I'll get my answer soon enough.

Until then, may you all find that perfect Turkey. And if you're as lucky as I am, may someone else cook it for you.

If It Could Be Sunday Forever

2009-11-15T20:32:00.003-05:00

I'm finally sitting. Hard to believe that my day began at 6am and I've been going full force ever since. I had to be at a show to sell Avon today which required loading the car, then unloading the car, then loading the car, then finally unloading the car.

Once again, I chose my most comfortable pair of shoes....NOT! Let me try that one again. Once again, I chose my most fashionable boots that make my feet look great on the outside, but make me cry in agony on the inside. Needless to say,the recliner is currently resting my sore, swollen feet. I may walk again by morning, but I've learned my lesson....Scratch That. Fashion will always reign first. I just can't help myself.

So I get home and begin checking the calendar. Oh My Gosh! Let's go through the run down: Monday I have to meet with my Writing Critique Group (If only they knew the only work I have to show is this darn blog, I may be kicked out!).

Tuesday is Grandparents Day at Potter's school. My Mom plans to come back to the house so we can buy the Turkey. I have an appointment at the consignment store to turn in some toys and make room for Santa stuff.

Wednesday is Parent Day at Potter's School. Hubby took off to help out with Scooter. I will go to spend time with Potter. After school is the H1N1 shot for Potter. The county notified us kindly after we filled out all the paperwork that they will not be administering any shots to Pre-K children. So we're keeping our fingers crossed for Scooter, because it seems unlikely that we will be finding a shot for him any time soon. I suppose the Bird Flu will be back before we get our next notice.

Sometime this week I have to fit in Karate, Prep Class, and Thanksgiving shopping. I also have the desserts to pick up for the Open House on Saturday.

I generally love to be busy, but this is going to be a challenge. Hubby also notified me that the rugs will need to be steamed again because Harley Dog had an accident in the Dining Room. Apparently Harley didn't notice that the same rug was steamed just three days ago. It must have something to do with the feel of pooping on fresh carpet, because this isn't the first time Harley pulled that stunt.

So I'm dead tired now, but not too tired to watch Desperate Housewives (which is beginning right now).

If only it could be Sunday Forever!

A Prayer for Fish Fish

2009-11-10T17:27:00.002-05:00

For the past four years, a little guy by the name of Fish Fish swam in our aquarium. We bought Fish Fish at Pet Smart shortly after Scooter was born. My husband had finally decided to throw in the towel concerning his 90 gallon salt water extravaganza located in the basement. He was so excited when he set that tank up, but shortly realized that once the babies began to arrive, there was no longer "Me Time." That mixed with the fact that Wifey wasn't a fish lover, and refused to help support his salty habit.

So we went smaller...much smaller. This aquarium was set up in the office. No salt this time. We bought 2 fish: Fish Fish and Mr. X. (I can't actually remember Mr. X's real name since Fish Fish didn't seem to like being in the same tank with him and decided it would be funny if he chased him every chance he got. Needless to say, Mr. X quickly went into cardiac arrest.

Fish Fish soon enjoyed all the extra room. We talked about buying him a new friend, but based on what he did to his last friend, we decided that it would be a better idea if Fish Fish swam solo.

Days, then weeks then years went by, and Fish Fish still kept swimming. The children went from crawling to walking to attending school. They even learned to feed Fish Fish.

And then came yesterday.

I sat in the office chair working on the computer. Fish Fish always came out to greet me. Sometimes it took a while, so I didn't give it much thought when I didn't see him. After I finished my work I decided to look for Fish Fish. And that's when I discovered him. Laying so nicely on his favorite hiding place. Fish Fish had passed.

"Don't cry," I thought to myself. "It's just a fish." But it wasn't just any fish, it was Fish Fish. And it wasn't Fish Fish dying that brought a tear, it was the years gone by and the memories that took place with Fish Fish in the background. It was First birthdays, and presents surrounding the aquarium. It was fingerprints on the glass from babies trying to pull themselves into a standing position. It was lip smudges from toddlers giving kisses to their fish buddy. It was chair marks in the carpet from children who needed an extra inch to throw some food in the aquarium. And all at once, it's gone.

"So how do we tell the children,?" I asked my husband. Men have a way with words, there's no beating around the bush. So when he blurted it out to the children, I wanted to cringe. I would have handled it with much more care. But I'm a Mom, that's my job.

Surprisingly the boys handled it better than expected. One wanted to know if we could get new fish. The other asked if he could see the body?

"Excuse me?" What the heck am I raising? This has to be a bad dream. But then, there was today.

Scooter was sitting in the back of our minivan. We were on our way to Walmart. Suddenly, Scooter asked: "Can we say a prayer for Fish Fish?"

"Sure," I said.

And it went something like this:

"Dear God, please take care of my Fish Fish. Make sure he has a big aquarium that he doesn't have to share with another fish. Make sure he has plenty of food. And please remember to keep him away from the sharks. Amen.

Got Diapers?

2009-11-09T20:17:00.003-05:00

It wasn't too long ago that I was waste high in diapers...both clean and dirty. So despite surviving that period in my life; I sympathize with those of you who are still knee deep.

While the prices of many items may fluctuate, the cost of diapers seems to have steadfastly continued to rise. So where does one go to make that purchase?

May I suggest a trip to your local Sam's Club. While Sam's Club is known to sell a variety of items, the prices for their baby diapers are extremely competitive.

Major brands such as Huggies and Pampers are carried by Sam's Club. From Newborn to training pants; there's no shortage of sizes.

Sam's Club offers the convenience of buying in bulk. As a mom I appreciate such convenience when there are children in tow. All too often, there is just not time to do a weekly shopping trip. Bulk items help keep cost down while also allowing me to keep the closets stocked with the most important items.

If all this seems to good to be true, just wait. You can also have your diapers shipped directly to your home.

Sleepless nights may continue for a bit longer, but with the help of Sam's Club, expensive diapers are a thing of the past.

And If I Die Before I Wake.......

2009-11-03T20:36:00.004-05:00

I'm not a huge Dr. Phil fan, but I once remember hearing him give very good advice. He said: "Do not marry a person until you see them sick." He then went on to explain that he wasn't talking about the common cold. What he meant was the sick where you become one with your pajamas, your hair is more matted than the dog, and your mouth and butt simultaneously take turns fighting for toilet time.

That was easy for me. Once I had children, I became a magnet for germs. I was like a walking case of Ebola. If the kids got it, so did I. As soon as I heard a cough come from one of their mouths, I began frantically searching for the safe room. Soon I realized there was no hiding. Apparently kid germs have a long incubation period, and all those kisses and hugs just add to anxiety.

One thing I noticed over the years was my husbands inability to catch a cold. Sure he's gotten a few, but nothing like the knock down drag out no-cure viruses I seem to catch. He's back on his feet in 24 hours.

I've seen the man vomit once during our tenure together. Let's just say there was no virus to blame. I found him the next day in our guest bedroom wrapped in my winter coat. Well, we were once young too. And there was a time that children were just a thought. My, how we've grown.

And then three days ago on Halloween, my husband mentions he doesn't feel well. He blamed it on all the running we were doing. We didn't get a chance to eat much, and before we knew it, it was time to take the children Trick or Treating.

But then it was Sunday. My husband looked the color of Elmer's Glue. I sprang into action: prescription, chicken soup, provide quiet time by taking children to Target with me. I figured he would be back on his feet in 24 hours.

No such luck. It's now Tuesday night. I've officially quarantined him to our bedroom. Something he is severely pee-owed about since I've been told the bedroom TV doesn't get the premium channels. (Obviously, that was my concern).

This is the first time in ten years that I've seen my husband this sick. Usually when I look like that I get to hear the famous words: "Man Up!" Generally the kids still find a way to their Mommy despite trails of vomit, beads of sweat, and a note to God written on her forehead: "Take Me Now!"

So Dear Hubby, as I get ready to go to bed tonight, I am tempted to roll over and tell you to "Man Up!" Instead, I will make sure you get to a doctors office tomorrow. I will make sure you take your medicine, stay hydrated, and get plenty of rest. I will roll those heavy trash cans down the driveway, take down the Halloween decorations, fill Avon orders, pack for the weekend craft show, make dinner, bathe children, feed children, dress children, bring and pick up children from school, take children to Karate, Prep, and swimming, supervise homework, read notes and sign paperwork. I will wash, fold and put away clothes. I will vacuum and mop after every spill. I will read stories, entertain and act like I enjoy every minute of it. Because the truth is....I do!

Those same 2 words I said to you seven years ago (In sickness and in Health).

By the way, when I'm on my death bed next week due to contamination issues, and you have no idea where to begin, refer to one paragraph up. That should get you started! Hope you feel well soon. I love you.

So You Think You Can Dance?.......Not!

2009-10-30T07:15:00.005-04:00

Call it bravery. Call it stupidity. Whatever you call it, take my word, call it quits!

Maybe it was the fact that I was turning 35 last week that got me into a free spirited kind of mood. Whatever it was, I had to face the facts, I wasn't 34 any longer. And despite what you may have heard, Yes Virginia, there is a difference!

It started with an invite to my son Potter's bedroom last week. Both him and Scooter had the music blasting. Just the previous night, they had sat in the living room watching an episode of "So You Think You Can Dance? Let's just say they were inspired.

What was Potter's bedroom just a short 15 minutes before, had been transformed into a combination of Studio 54, a gymnasium, and a stage show that any child would be jealous of.

And my dear friends, I had a golden ticket!

After my children showed off a few choice moves of their own, I was asked if I wanted to join in.

Me, I thought? Well of course I wanted to join in.

And this is where the horror begins. Because something so strange happens to a person when her sister decides to put "The Best of the Eighties" dance hits on a CD and give it as a present to her children. Her children in turn jack the volume up to deafening decibels only to create memories of neon, Miami Vice, and hairspray flash through their mommies brain.

I remember the words I spoke so clearly that night: "Want Mommy to teach you a dance move?"

It was at this point that I should have consulted with my inner Jiminy Cricket. But no, not me. I continued on with my foolishness. Right up until that point where a fiery pain shot across my stomach. I remember curling into a small ball all the while trying to convince my children that Act 1 had still not come to a close. I smiled until I couldn't smile any longer.

I think Potter finally caught on when I left out a small moan. I thought for sure internal bleeding was occurring.

"Are you OK Mommy?" He asked. "Because that was so cool!"

"Cool, I thought?" Did this child not understand the concept of 911? I was sure I heard something inside my body pop.

Although I tried to encourage other dance moves such as the Moonwalk, the Robot, and the Cabbage Patch. My children still thought Mommy's dance move was the best.

I'm officially a year older, a year slower and a year smarter (debatable). I have mastered gaining weight, and losing my mind. I have come, saw and kicked my own @#$! I have had my heart melt, and experienced melt downs all in the same 10 minutes. I am one year closer to hot flashes; yet my kids still think I'm the coolest person in the world.

Not too bad for 35. I'm enjoying it already.

Mommy Down!

2009-10-26T06:29:00.007-04:00

Whether your child takes the bus, walks or is car-pooled, one thing is for sure: it can be chaos. Morning routines require precision, planning and a whole lot of energy. By 9am I'm generally looking up to the heavens and asking: "Are you seriously going to make me do this all over again tomorrow?"

When Potter began at a new school this year, it was all about learning a new routine. The morning wasn't so bad. There were some simple rules to follow: "1) Do not drop your child off before 8:30am (the doors are locked)." "2)Your child must be in school by 9am or they are considered late." "3)Use the side door for car riders." "4) The front doors are only for the buses, and of course for the parents who drop their child off after 9am and must sign them in late!"

I'm sure there are more rules, but those are the ones I can remember.

As for the afternoon pickup, well now, that's an entirely different monster all by itself. In the handbook it says the children will be dismissed at 3:15. The car line begins forming in the same place as the morning drop off. I thought leaving my home around 3:05 would give me plenty of time. Boy, was I wrong!

When I arrived at the school, there was no less than 25 cars in front of me. The line curled around the parking lot. Everyone seemed to know what they were doing except for me. By the time I picked my child up, it already felt like the next day. I now leave at 2:45 (yes, an entire half hour before my child is dismissed). Believe it or not, there are already parents there waiting in line. It's not like the school was handing out gold bars. We're just getting the same exact child back that we dropped off that morning. (Hopefully a bit brighter, but still, the same child).

To give you an idea of how exhausting this process has become to not only me, but to the many parents who sit that half hour bumper to bumper, I'd like to share a story.

So the wait was just about over. It was 3:15 last Friday afternoon. The children were beginning to be dismissed. I was about 6 cars back.

As the moderator began loading the children into the cars, the line began to move forward. I put my car in Drive and waited for the car in front of me to move....but, it never did. I was about to beep when I noticed the drivers seat was reclined. And that's when I got the uncontrollable giggles. Scooter was in the back seat wondering what the heck Mommy thought was so funny.

I could barely get out the words: "She fell asleep!" "Good Grief, I cried. Mommy Down!"

I quickly tried to compose myself as I waved down the moderator from my window. The swiftness at which this moderator glided across the parking lot to awaken Mommy Van Winkle showed me that this probably was not the first Mom to go down in a car line. She lightly tapped on the window. The look of shock on this woman's face said it all. She apparently hadn't taken a nap since she gave birth to her first child. She now squeezes in whatever shut-eye is possible during red lights, PTA Meetings and of course car lines.

Sometimes the greatest gifts life can give us will never be wrapped in a box. It will never come tied with a bow. It will simply be the offering of 10 minutes of complete silence. A cool breeze flowing through the window. The smell of evergreen air freshener lingering. And a reclined chair with a soft pillow to hold our head.

Sweet Dreams Mommies Everywhere!

"What Do You Want For Your Birthday, Hunny?"

2009-10-20T21:22:00.004-04:00

The countdown is on. In just six more days, I will be 35 years old. I remember a day when that number sounded so old. Now it's just a number. A number which reminds me that the clock will continue to move forward, my boobs will continue downwards, my butt will continue outward, but my optimism will continue to rise upwards.

Some things you just can't fight. Like those lines that mysteriously appeared around my eyes the day after I gave birth to son #2. Although a bit premature, I think it was God's way of preparing me for the other surprises my body had in store.

When my feet swelled so large during pregnancy and forced me to replace running shoes with bunny slippers...I laughed. When after I gave birth I realized that not only were my feet not going to return to normal size; they were going to stay 2 different sizes...I cried. When my bathing suit began to act more like the rubber band around the Sunday paper: trying desperately at all cost to hold everything in...I cried harder.

Age is a gift that is frequently misunderstood. We all pray that we live long enough to see our children grow; their children grow and so on. And somehow during all those years we also feel we're entitled to stay beautiful.

Doesn't sound like an unrealistic request.

So what do I want for my birthday? Here are a few suggestions for the gift givers in my life:

1) A shoe company that appreciates that not everyone's feet are the same size, and therefore decides to sell their shoes A La Carte.

2) A Non-Caloric Hot Fudge Sundae.

3) An eye wrinkle cream that, dare I say...works!

4) A mirror that lies well.

5) A small case of amnesia that temporarily causes me to believe I'm 29 again.

All right, all joking aside, you can't wrap amnesia. So, I guess I have no choice but to "hang in there"....literally!

Sticky Note Overdrive

2009-10-20T06:23:00.005-04:00

I love October. This is nothing new. I've always loved this time of year. I love the color of the leaves. The cool breeze that calls for just a sweater. Pumpkins. Warm Apple Cider. Hay Rides. Halloween. And of course, to top it off, I celebrate my birthday on the 28th.

But this October seemed a little different this year. It's been the month of the checklist.

Now, if you know me, you know I'm a lover of lists. I'm never far from a pile of sticky notes, a highlighter, or a note book. I organize my own organization. It truly is a sickness.

This month however, everything hit at once. There are places we have to be, people we have to meet, things we need to accomplish. And that was just yesterday.

My calender filled up by week two of October and actually began to seep right into November.

To keep me on track I finally decided to enter the fascinating world of the Blackberry. Five minute nightly tutorials given by Hubby seem to be the only training I receive since the instruction booklet looks like something out of World and Peace. I love my new Blackberry, but have no fear 3M, Post-It Notes are never far from my reach.

October has been filled with Field Trips, costume ordering, karate practice, fundraisers, swimming lessons, Avon shows, class parties, permission slips, dry cleaning, pool closing, winter clothes shopping etc., etc., etc.

There are still leaves to be raked, gutters to be checked, summer clothes to be packed, toy consigning, and a never ending list of necessary craziness that I'm sure is written on a sticky note somewhere in my pile of organization.

I have just 11 days to get my act together. November is creeping in way too fast, and I'm running out of sticky notes!

Living In An Automatic World

2009-10-09T11:08:00.004-04:00

I remember as a child hearing the infamous words: "Don't Touch!" We heard them so much that I began to wear down my pockets since that was the obvious place to hide my weapons of destruction. Sure, there were days when temptation got the best of me. And sure enough I heard my parents second favorite phrase: "You're grounded!"

But slowly as I began to grow, I noticed a change in the world around me. The need to touch things began to diminish. Doors that automatically opened themselves began to appear everywhere: from the malls to libraries to my local postal office.

I still remember sitting on my first automatic toilet. I had thoughts that my butt cheeks were going to be sucked right off my back side. I held on for dear life waiting for the flushing to stop. But just as I would scoot a millimeter, it would go right into another flushing episode. I now know what those hand rails are for.

When the toilets received critical acclaim from truck stop tourists, I guess the powers that be decided to roll with the idea that "automatic" was good. And so came about automatic sinks. Because children everywhere like to leave water running at full blast, it seemed only right that a limit be put on the amount of devastation one could do after relieving themself.

Maybe it's me, but I'm not so sure this was the best idea. I mean how many times have you needed to wash your hands and the water just won't turn on? So you walk over to the next faucet only to find that you now have a large blob of foamy soap stuck to your sleeve? And still you walk down the line waving your hands like some raving maniac. All the while you watch children exiting from stalls who seem to hold a Masters Degree in hand washing. The ease at which they retrieve water and soap has you baffled, if not a bit more determined to figure out the whole process.

Alas, you discover the secret: If you stand on one leg, while holding your breath for a count of five, and just slide your hands in the line of fire at a 45 degree angle, you will indeed get some water. Probably not enough to wash the entire blob of foam, but just enough to show those hot-shots next to you who is boss.

You continue to hold your head high until you realize you must begin the entire process all over in order to retrieve a paper towel. You do a quick look around, accept defeat, and decide that your Levi's will do a much better job at drying your hands than any super-absorbency paper towel held captive by a robotic box hanging on the wall.

You return to your car only to realize that the cherry on top to this day is leaving your keys in your car. If only you had chosen the model with On Star.

SHOP FOR A CAUSE!

2009-10-06T06:40:00.006-04:00

I'M NOT SURE ABOUT EVERYONE ELSE, BUT I KNOW WHEN I SEE THINGS IN CAP'S, IT USUALLY MEANS IT'S IMPORTANT.

AS YOU ALL KNOW, IT'S BREAST CANCER AWARENESS MONTH. I HAVE BEEN LUCKY ENOUGH TO SAY THAT NEITHER ME NOR MY FAMILY HAVE BEEN AFFECTED BY THIS DISEASE. BUT MANY OF YOU OUT THERE DO HAVE A STORY.

IN HONOR OF THE MANY STORIES, I WOULD LIKE TO CALL ON EACH ONE OF YOU FOR A LITTLE HELP. DURING THIS SPECIAL MONTH, I HAVE DECIDED TO DONATE 10% OF ALL MY AVON INTERNET SALES TO THE SUSAN G. KOMAN FOUNDATION.

THIS CAN ADD UP TO ALOT, BUT I NEED YOUR HELP TO DO THIS. SIMPLY GO TO THE RIGHT SIDE BAR TO ENTER MY AVON STORE. THERE IS SOMETHING FOR EVERYTHING. CHECK YOUR SHOPPING LIST. WHAT WERE YOU GOING TO BUY ANYWAY? DID YOU NEED A NEW LIPSTICK, MASCARA, NAIL POLISH? IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT THE LADIES EITHER. YOU'LL FIND PLENTY OF GIFTS FOR HUBBY AND THE KIDS. THERE IS EVEN A CHRISTMAS PREVIEW.

WHEN YOU'RE DONE SHOPPING, SIMPLY RETURN TO THIS POST AND LEAVE A COMMENT.

SO WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? SHOP FOR A CAUSE. GET YOUR FRIENDS INVOLVED. LET'S MAKE A DIFFERENCE!