A Mom Thing

I'm a sucker for love.

I love Love Stories.  I do.  I'm simply a sucker for love.

When you meet H, you'd never think he was (a) romantic.  When you meet us together, you might think, "sweet" but probably not "syrup."  Little do you know. 

I really enjoy hearing how people met.  Whether it was "love at first sight" or "we were 16."  I am captured by both stories.  Reel me in.

I also enjoy hearing engagement stories.  Again, whether it's the "let's do it" version or the carefully planned bo-nan-za -- I love both.

Does that make me an "equal opportunity love-ist"?  Maybe.  But seriously - is there anything better than love to make you spin?  Me thinks not!

Managing by triplicate?

Seems to me the easiest way to exist in this crazy, muti-tasking world is to manage by triplicate.  Three of everything.

Yes, I've stooped to that.  It's not (totally) laziness or disorganization. It's just - my life.   Duplicate does not seem to do it. One always seems to be lost or dirty or "disappeared."

Take this morning, for example. . .and this morning is by NO means out of the ordinary. Gym day for two kids.  Everyone gets dressed in an orderly manner.  Everyone has a sweatshirt, t-shirt and pants (miraculous).  Socks and shoes TBD.) THen Middle Guy looks down (at the new pair of sweats) and notices holes in the crotch. Tiny starts of holes that he proceeds to poke at ... making them bigger.

So - time for the million dollar question - Do you send a kid to school KNOWING he has holes in his pants... or do you dig for another pair?  We make him eat breakfast in his boxers then I hunt down another pair.

But take three kids... and triplicate ... and you're suddenly looking at cubed roots or advanced math.  Algebra, anyone?

Laughter Rocks

I was thinking about laughter the other day (another post, another time). 

Isn't laughter great?  Shouldn't we all laugh more?  Have you ever noticed how CONTAGIOUS it is?  Have you ever found that you instantly liked someone just because of their laugh?  And how about when you find yourself in one of those no-laugh moments and all you can do is laugh?  I CLEARLY remember that would happen (repeatedly) to my mom and me at Sunday Mass.  For some reason, we'd look at each other and both just start giggling.  SO inappropriate which just made it worse.  And I remember my grandpa -- mom's dad.  He laughed like Santa -- every time it was a big, hearty HO HO HO! 

Ahhhh.  Love that.

It really is the best therapy of all.  And FREE, too!

Little Guy has a songlike giggle.  I could listen to it all day.  I could make millions if I could bottle it up and sell it at retail.  Middle Guy will squnich his face and put his whole body into it-- especially his eyebrows.  And Daughter ... well, um...she has a equine-honk-like-laugh.  It's charming in a totally uncharming way. 

What's your favorite kind?  The belly-achin'/side-splitting laughter or the quiet tears rolling down your face kind?

Do you snort or yelp?  I know both kinds of laughers.  Do you just shake?  Depending on the type of humor (ahem), H's shoulders will just shake and he's speechless.  Usually the lower the humor, the more he'll shake.  It's hilarious and such a giveaway.

When I'm really laughing, I cry.  I turn beet-red and tears just roll down my cheeks.  It's unstoppable.  Really the best. 

Let's all try to laugh more.  Feel free to share your favorite laugh memory!

I saw an angry man today.

I was at Dominicks.  It was crowded.  A man in his 40s was still in his workout clothes, running around the checkout area, waving a pint of chocolate milk as if it was the Olympic torch.  And he was shouting, "DON'T BUY MILK AT DOMINICK'S!!!  ROTTEN MILK TWO WEEKS IN A ROW AT DOMINICKS!!!"

It was disturbing, to say the least.  A part of me was gaping at him and another part was thinking to myself, "Geesh, go to another store then."  But the biggest part of me was thinking, "WOW, are we all really one step away from ... that?"  From being so angry that a little thing can send us over the edge of sanity?

Seriously, it affected me.  I've had my own mood issues lately.  More crabby than angry...But still. It struck me to think that it really doesn't take much to get so self-involved that you are unaware of the rut you're in.  And that rut becomes a hole.  And that hole becomes a chasm between you and reality.

Hmmm.  Food for thought for sure.

I need to re-find my blog-happy

It used to make me so happy to blog. 

I looked forward to it. I'd do several at a time-- always having some in the pipeline.  I was equal part photos and funny to insights. 

Lately, I feel like I'm just ... posting.  And I rarely do insights.  Sometimes scabs just shouldn't be scratched. Sometimes they should.  I filter. A lot. All still very honest, just filtered like a light beer. A tasteless light beer.

Not sure how to re-inspire it....welcome your thoughts/feedback.

In honor of my ICE.

H is obviously my ICE.  Mom and dad (granny and papa) run a close second, especially since H does NOT always answer his cell phone.  But tied for second place as my ICE (In Case of Emergency) is Genevieve.   We've been best friends since Freshman year of high school.  We met in typing class (how much does THAT date me!?).

We lived miles and miles apart for high school, college and after college. Then, finally, we were back together, here in Chicago -- just blocks apart.  Then, miraculously, we each got married within a year of each other and had both had three kids. We were back on track/in sync.  Her son and Middle Guy are BFFs.  Her daughter and Little Guy are BF/GF and plan on having 13 kids together someday.  I am Godmother to her first girl, she is Godmother to my first girl (Daughter).

I thought of it the other day as I filled out COUNTLESS school forms.  Each one asked for several ICEs.  And I'd list her...over and over.  Then, I thought to myself, I should PROBABLY let her know I'm listing her? That she's still my ICE.  So I did.

I  called and told her, "Hey, you're still 'my person,' okay?" 

Her: "Yeah, you're still mine."

It doesn't get much better than that.

Mamas

 

Whether you call them "mom" "momma" "mama" or "mommy" -- it's all the same. You call them.  I call mine every day. I hate it when a day goes by and I don't talk to her.  I get all agitated. She's quite honestly my favorite time-killer.  I'm hooked.  I can even tell when it's her calling -- before I look at caller ID (this really freaks H out ... but he's humored by it now). 

When I was in college (first time away from home) we would talk every Monday night (my dad played tennis on Mondays and we could talk forever).  When I lived my Junior year in France (Paris), we talked every Saturday.  I remember the long one-block-walk to the phone booth on the corner. Oddly, I remember WAITING until it was 1:30pm at the earliest my time.  I think that made it 6:30 am Chicago time.  Yes, on a Saturday. And we'd talk til my calling card ran out.  Every time.  That was before e-mail. 

Ahhhh.  We live a mile or so from my mom, now. There is something reassuring in knowing I can call her. Or drive by. Or drop off. Anytime.  I just tried to call her -- the line was busy (they don't do call-waiting).  Of course it is. It's Monday. Dad still plays tennis. She still needs to fill that quiet time.

We usually talk in the car -- every morning. On my way to work.  Or we'll e-mail. Nothing elaborate. When you talk all the time, there is typically not much new to tell.  Usually it's just a quick exchange of information.  The formula is pretty much the same. I'm OK. The kids are OK. Insert good kid story. You're OK.  How's dad? Whine, whine. OK. Talk soon, love you. 

Aren't moms the best?

PS - photo was from my 40th bday celebration in July - ain't she purty?

PPS - I can only hope to be so close with my Daughter.  So far, so good.

That's my girl.

I am so proud of my girl.  You teach, you talk, you train...but really, you never know if they are listening or learning.  You just never really know. You hope that they will "do the right thing" when faced with challenge. But you just never really know. Until tested.

Daughter has amazed me time and time again this vacation. With her goodness. Her smarts. Her all-around likability. 

• First, she goes to the Dollar Store and buys her BROTHERS toys/candy. Without being asked to. With her "own" money. She is thoroughly thoughtful. 
• She picks almost past-their-peak flowers from the garden and wraps beautiful leaves around them to make mini bouquets, then puts them in mugs by the bedsides for a surprise treat for her aunts or her mimi.
• She gives snuggles and loves and takes a shower when I ask her to.
• She will walk anyone to and from the beach who needs to.

She is thoroughly happy here.  In her element. 

The true test came last night.  And she passed with flying colors.  Exceeding expectations yet again.

We all (all 12 adults and 11 kids) were headed to the beach for the most recent Olympic Event.  We arrived at the beach (about 1-2 blocks away) and immediately realized that the youngest one M (girl) was not with us.  Her mom, her dad and H started racing back to the house.  In 2 minutes, they are back. With them is Daughter and the little one M, holding hands.   Apparently Daughter was back at the house, too.   She had decided to go to the bathroom before heading to the beach. When she came out we all were gone.  She saw little one, M, wandering alone.  She grabbed M's hand and quickly gave her a piece of her stashed chocolate.  She then grabbed a cell phone from the counter and called my cell phone. I think it was the first time I actually didn't have my blackberry WITH me... She realized I didn't have it as she heard the familiar ring and so just grabbed M's hand and started towards the beach.  She knows the route. She was in-control.  Neither of them were ever scared or anxious. 

Daughter did the right thing.  You always wonder.  Now I know. At least this time.  She did the right thing.

My 26$ paycheck...

I got a $26 dollar paycheck last week.

It was my check from Blogher for the ad network.  Not much, I know - but it still warms my heart.

I actually have considered framing it instead of cashing it.  The value to me might be higher? Weird, but true. 

Honestly, I love being part of the ad network. I know (and love) many bloggers who want/expect more money/different rules/restrictions.  I don't really care about (this) money...at least right now.  I love the ads. They make me feel more legit. Real. Official.  I like the way they look on the side of my page.  I like the new people I meet from it. 

Like a great tan or a new pair of shoes, it just makes me feel good. Pretty. Special.  And the fact they pay me, makes it even better!

Hmph.  And all it took was a $26 dollar paycheck.  Typically, I'm not so easy.

Sign ME up for camp!

I want a new backpack. And a new swimsuit. And water shoes. And camp clothes.

I want a fresh water bottle. Someone to pack my lunch everyday with my favorite foods. Snack time.

I want to swim in a pool (free play!).  To make lanyard chains. Dance explosion. Tie-dye.

I want to patty-cake. Jump rope. Get sun-kissed. Make new friends.

I want to go on field trips. Bowling. Kayaking. Movies. Water Parks.

I want to come home from all this and then do it again the next day.

Summer. Camp.  I wanna' go, too.