A Mom Thing

Stupid or Stunning...or both?

Well, I have kinda' decided that maybe I will be an "intermittent poster." Not sure what blogher will think about that ... but don't really care. This blog has always been more about me and my memories than anything else.

So. I've decided only to post when one of three criteria apply: Stupid. Stunning. or Stupidly Stunning. Basically,items that deserve to be shared and remembered in places more than Facebook.

Today, was stupidly stunning.

Today, my daughter taught me a lesson I never knew I would learn. You don't know what you don't know (very Forrest Gump?).  Anyway, I digress.  She taught me this...listen hard:

MY DAUGHTER IS GROWING UP TO BE EVERYTHING I WAS ... AND ... EVERYTHING I WAS NOT. 

Pause. Dramatic Pause.

Think about it. It's the greatest wish for womankind.  She is every bit the NICE, KIND, EMPATHETIC, SMART, FUNNY, CARING girl i was.  But she's ALSO COMPETITIVE, ATHLETIC, TENACIOUS, BRAVE, MATHEMATICALLY INCLINED, LEGGY and ALTRUISTIC.

She amazes me every day. She makes me proud and renders me either speechless or in giggles every day.  Did I really ask for her advice on a PowerPoint slide tonite?  And did she really tell me she prefers Excel?  Did she really beg to be put back in the game?  She's a player, my child. A true player.  And I am proud.

Who is this little woman child who is so much like me...but so much more?

And ... Hot damn am i a lucky woman to know her.  Here's looking at you, kid. I can't wait to learn more.

To post or not to post, that is the question...

Ok. So. There it is. The elephant in the room.  Do I let this blog die a graceful death or do I resurrect it in a new/different form?

My life has been in the "spin cycle" (for lack of a better term) lately.  Churn, cleanse, shake, agitate, rinse, repeat. 

Not really stuff I care to share.  With anyone...let alone everyone.

That said, I'm self-resurrecting and wondering who cares.  Do you want to know the new me. Are you interested in the life musings and bruisings of this 40-something mom of 3 plus dog?  Let me know. 

Then ... and only then... will I answer if I will post or not.

Empty Fridge YUM

YUM.  Sometimes it's good to challenge yourself with scraps.

After 4+ hours in awful car traffic, there was NO was I was getting back in a car to get supplies for dinner.  BUT, that said, I couldn't BEAR the idea of a fake dinner. I wanted something yummy and homemade.

I scavengered some tiger shrimp from the freezer and sauteed them in  some leftover shallot vinaigrette some friends brought over.   I boiled a box of penne and sauteed some mushrooms in olive oil.  Mixed in some horseradish/tiger sauce. VOILA . 

It totally worked!  The broiled sourdough garlic bruschetta topped it off.

All around.  All good.  YUM. 

Blog worthiness?

Have not been posting as much.  Too much going on.  Too little that is blog-worthy.

Will try to get back in it, while still realizing that I do this more as a momento for the kids someday than for therapy for myself or entertainment for others.

With FACEBOOK, nowadays, it's easier to vent there in short form.  Leaving the blog for anything more substantive.

Cheers..!

My girl

 

My girl.  My girl, Daughter, is 11 years old and has done Locks of Love TWICE.  Meaning she has donated  a LOT of hair twice.  Grew it to donate. Cut it to donate.  Intentionally.  Two times. I never have.  I give blood.  Similar but not the same.

This time it went really really short.  I dropped her off at the salon, pre-paid and told her she could do whatever she wanted.  She chose a "pixie" or "boy" cut. 

I have no idea why an 11 year old girl would choose to look just like her brother, but I LOVE that she did. I LOVE her confidence, her swagger, her happy smile at her new do.  I love that it shows off her shaggy eyebrows.  I love that she is giving another kid the self confidence of cute hair.    Just love it.  All of it.

I am so proud of her.  She is more woman at 11 than I ever was (and I was a lotta' woman).  She will continue be a true gift to this world.  And I am SO thankful for her quirky quirk self. And proud of my girl.

Love you babe,.

It's Your Choice

The other morning was cra-zy.  Not really out-of-the-ordinary crazy. But also not normal crazy.  H. started an exercise bootcamp and was so WIPED, I volunteered to do wholesale deliveries for Flourish if he did breakfast and lunches.   I promised to be back fast enough to take the kids to school.

He graciously, breathlessly, sweatingly accepted.   I did, too. To me,it sounded like a break from routine. I got home at 7:45 am to pick up the kids and go. They are genetic freaks who like to be early or feel they are late.  I swooped in, helped finish lunches, pack bags and off we went.  Oddly, Daughter was crying in the car.  (NOTE: Not the scary silent cry...but more the "I'm a pre-teen and my life is over cry".  Apparently it was a tough morning (the 20- 30 min I wasn't there) and she was very upset. 

I pulled the car over (kiss of death). Paused and looked at the car clock and paused and looked at her. I said, very clearly and calmly..."It's before 8 am.  There is nothing FUNDAMENTALLY wrong in your life.  You have a choice to make today. Like any day.  Choose to have a good day."  She (dramatically) wiped her eyes and agreed.

Some days, I think it's going to be all right. Some days.  One step at a time.

Shiny Happy People

I like shiny happy people (REM song).  I just do. Happy people make me happy.  I Just Love Them.  It's contagious for sure.  As a result, I typically try to be shiny happy. Even when I'm not. One of the best compliments I ever got was from a mom of a daughter's friend.  Apparently her daughter had described me as "always so happy."  Freak?  Maybe. Fake? Maybe some days. I'm ok with that.  Happy makes sense for me. Even when more of a goal than a reality.

What's the opposite of Shiny Happy People?  Nasty Mean People.  We all know a few of them.  We all secretly hate them.  Mean kids.  Or worse...mean adults.  Nasty, insensitive, clueless, selfish, insecure people. Hate em.

So let's just be vague and say I had a less than shiny-happy-day the other day.  I went down to collect my car from my FAVORITE valet people.  LOVE these shiny happy people. As always, they asked about my day. I said, "notsogood."   I commented generically on how much I really didn't like mean or rude people.  They started laughing.  Knowingly.  OF COURSE they know mean, rude people -- generically.  And it's not ABOUT the tip. It's about human kindness. Eye contact.  Caring enough to care and know someone. THEY KNOW WHAT I MEAN. Only too well. It was a nice moment. A reassuring moment.  Made me shiny happy again.

Morale of the story? Let's just say, they don't detail everyone's car at Christmas.  Only the shiny happy few, I'm sure. The others?  Well... who knows.  Notsomuch.

Meatless Carbonara Bliss

 

HMOG (holy mother of God), this stuff is GOOD.

I just got back from a blissful girls weekend in FLA.  3 nights of total college girl time. Lots of laughter. Lots of vodka. Lots of fun.  And yes, one of the spouses even made us an 80s CD. Perfect.

We ate (and drank) great. We cooked.  We read magazines and compared tips on everything from make up to ... well, other stuff.  Ahh. BLISS.

Anyway -- K brought a Cooking Light Magazine.  While Cooking Light is my go-to-online source, I stopped the subscription awhile ago.  Notanymore.  I re-upped today.  K brought the Jan?/Feb issue to add to our mix (US, PEOPLE, In Style, Harvard Business Review, O Magazine, Smithsonian).  I was hooked. A bazillion recipes I would do. Maybe this would/could break me out of my food rut. Inspire me to do more/different/other.  Maybe?

Long story. Short. Tonite I made the "Walnut Breadcrumb Pasta With A Soft Egg" recipe from page 192.  Only challenge?  Daughter doesn't eat nuts...I didn't have parsley...or goat cheese. NO PROBLEM.  Yeah, yeah, they had me at "breadcrumbs."  And Egg (client).  Seriously. 

This recipe was a-mazing. And easy and CHEAP. I totally changed it bc of family likes/dislikes or because I didn't have ingredients on hand.  Here's what I did...

Ingredients

5 eggs
1 (2-ounce) piece bread diced (sourdough was great, jalapeno cheddar or bacon cheddar would be great, too)
2 T olive oil
4 garlic cloves, minced
salt/pepper
Spaghetti or Linguine
Chopped Fresh Flat-Leaf Parsley (or arugula or spinach)
1/3 cup cheese (goat, or feta or parmesan)

Seasoning to taste: salt, pepper, garlic, chopped red pepper

Preparation

Bring 3 inches of water to a boil in a medium saucepan.   Add eggs to pan. Boil 5 1/2 minutes.  Drain. Plunge eggs into ice water, and let stand for 5 minutes .  Drain and peel.

Place bread in a food processor, process until fine.  Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add olive oil to pan and swirl to coat.  Add garlic, saute for 30 seconds, stirring.  Add breadcrumb mixture, salt and pepper to pan, saute til toasted.

Cook pasta according to package, omitting salt and fat. Add pasta to breadcrumb mixture; toss to combine. Drizzle with olive oil as needed. Sprinkle with greens/herbs, toss to combine. Add in cheese mixture. Mix.  Plate and place soft boiled egg halves on top.   Tell people to chop and mix their egg in for the sauce.

Total deliciousness.

Pssssssssssst.

that's the sound I hear as I finally collapse into my chair with a cocktail...
the sound of an empty-almost-clean house. (9 bags of garbage from their rooms to the curb.)
the sound of knowing your kids are safe, healthy, happy and together living life to its fullest.
the fact that you know you taught them well to live, enjoy, be safe, have fun, appreciate, repeat.

the sound of being alone.  with a full fridge, a full heart, candles lit, loud soft music filling your kitchen on Pandora.
thinking of what to make for dinner that YOU want. and he wants.  when you want it. 
the fire is lit, your husband will be home. it will just be two (kinda') missing 3. in the quiet, almost clean house.

planning the future. talking. drinking. thinking. together.  perfect.

It's in your head

so it will always be in your head. 

Cancer, that is.  Or really, more specifically, Mortality. 

A cough, a cold, flu or just extreme exhaustion makes one question.  Is it back?

It's been almost 3 years with a clean bill of health for H.  A fabulous milestone worthy of HUGE daily celebration. But the harsh reality is 3 years ago changed me, us, all of us, forever. I stopped worrying on a daily (hourly) basis a long time ago.  But I still think of it often. In many ways, it changed me forever and I will always reel a bit from it.  But I was a bit off-center to begin with...maybe this helps straighten me out?

The bottomline is that when H is off or not right, my inner-alarm goes off.  Remember, he was "just tired" when I forced him to go get that blood test.  The one that saved his life.

The other night he was wiped-out.  I straight out asked him ... "Are you flu tired, exhausted tired or leukemia tired?"  I said it.  The L word.  Had to -- 110% of our relationship is about communication even when not desirable.  I'm proud of that.   He said it was not leukemia tired.  He slept almost 11 hours and felt human again in the morning.

Mortality. Hmm.  The kids, on the other hand, embrace their immortality.  And I'm stuck in the middle. Fearing most yet surviving all of it.  Maybe I'm the eye of the tornado?  Safe haven in a midst of total chaos?  Maybe.  Not sure. Will let you know if I ever figure that one out.  In the mean time, happy new year - I'm going to try and be a better blogger in the new year. 

Some things are worth remembering.  Other things are for Facebook. :)