The Real Thing

I have simple pleasures. I do not feast upon bon-bons and caviar all day. On the contrary. My usual lunch may be a handful of M&M’s and the crusts of PB&J’s. But I do have one little culinary delight that I afford myself: one cold 12-ounce can of Coca-Cola a day.

I know it doesn’t sound like much of a treat, but there is something about that liquid refreshment at precisely the right time of a sluggish afternoon that picks me right up.

But lately, someone has been attempting to foil my carbonated happiness.

After my initial sips, I spy a little pair of hands come up from under the table to check the temperature and volume of the can. Because he can’t see me, he thinks I do not notice the inspection. Matty will then forgo the can if he deems it too cold or too full--and will wait patiently until I have drunk precisely the exact amount to achieve his optimal level. With a pleading grin, he will bring me a fresh can from the refrigerator, while taking the initial one explaining, “I like your soda, Mom.”

I can't help but have a Coke and a smile.

Miss You Mom

Today is a tough one to get through.

At least I have the support of so many; thanks Dad, Wendy, Colleen, Kathy, Kim, and of course, Sean. All those nice folks on the message board, too.

It does help to have the support of so many caring people on a day with a perpetual lump in your throat.

Not-So Happy Anniversary

Words to live by

The high road is often the road less traveled.

I think I just made that up, but I could be blatently ripping off Oscar Wilde or Ann Landers.

Or maybe I even read it on a fortune cookie last week.

Happy Birthday Baby

I guess I’m still in denial. Amy turning one today doesn’t seem possible.

I could use the clichés of the year flying by, they grow so fast, blah blah blah. But truth is, that time seems to have stopped when it comes to her infancy. I don’t know how better to explain it, but I can’t remember our life without her and I can’t picture her at any other age than she is today. And I have no idea why her first birthday is more incomprehensible than it was when the boys were babies. But it is.

At least I can take comfort that others feel this way. When I announce her birthday, people drop their jaw and shake their head as if they are calculating the stalled time as well.

I’d like to credit growing up and appreciating the little things; but I think it’s more due to the fact that I still feel pregnant.

My Nightmare

I’ve gone through most of my adult life without wearing masks…

No, I’m not getting philosophical on you, I mean I haven’t attended many costume parties after the age of 12. Sure, there were the famed Super Bowl parties in St. Louis when we dictated guests had to dress as their favorite Super Fan (Marge Schott was my personal fav), but since most of those costumes were normal Sunday wear anyway, it didn’t seem to be a big deal.

In two weeks I have to come up with 2 costumes that Sean and I will both wear for a party in which I will know no one. First impressions of me in bunny ears and a tail? I think not. I find this task of coming up with suitable attire to be surprisingly daunting for me--so if anyone has any suggestions that are not retarded, I would appreciate it.

Fly Away

In a very uncharacteristic move, the family is heading in different directions this weekend. Sean and Matty are on to Orlando for a boy’s weekend, while Amy, Stevie and I are heading north to visit baby Ellen for her second birthday.

While of course looking forward to spending oodles of hours with Wendy, Craig, and Ellen for our 2 day reunion, I am more than a little angst-ridden at the thought of flying with 2 minors in my soul charge.

I hate to fly.

But I have packed all the candy in the medicine cabinet in order to ensure our safe and sane arrival in Cleveland.

Wish us luck, and no random drug tests.

Acting Like An Activist

I’m feeling very political these days…

Yesterday, I posted my column, A Political Fable. It was basically well-received (I hope).

Last night I watched the pitiful undoing of the Republican candidate on national television. During the time it was just too painful to watch, I scanned the audience looking for a familiar face from our old stomping ground, St. Louis. Sorry to report that I did not see any old friends.

Tonight, we will be attending Al Franken’s Kerry-Edwards Victory Party. (I love a positive attitude!) Unfortunately, we will be sitting next to 2 empty seats, as we could nary find another Democrat in the Tampa metropolitan area (Please tell me that is not representative of November 2).

I’m feeling such a surge of activism that maybe tomorrow I’ll go on Kelloggs.com and vote if Apple Jack’s should in fact taste like apples.

We should never pass up any opportunity to effect change…

Cheese

In what only can be described as a clandestine alignment of the planets, when the space and time continuum was suspended for a brief hour on a Thursday afternoon, I managed to get all three children photographed.

Yes, 3 children under the age of nine, were free of any visible child-injury (Matty). Three haircuts were actually passable (Stevie). Three outfits were purchased, and better yet, worn (Matty and Amy). An appointment was made and kept for a week, and the car didn’t break down on the way to the Mall.

We escaped KB Toys and the Disney Store, and made it to the photographer with actual minutes to spare. No props or $6 an hour photographers were harmed in the filming of this sequence.

And if that string of miracles wasn’t blessing enough: I have in my possession several pictures of three wide-eyed, tearless, smiling children with nary a chocolate pudding stain in sight.

Suitable for framing, no less.

Starving Artist

Like most of my writing, the latest publication on StoryHouse Coffee will end up costing me three times as much as I make from it.

But then most of my writing is only worth a hill of beans.

(At least they're slow-roasted Kona...)

I'm Only Human

I've succumbed. Succumbed to the pressure of the Blog.

Bloggers from all over the World Wide Web have been relentless in their pursuit of more of my ramblings, secrets, tall tales, and flat out lies.

So, as the giving gal that I am, I give you this blog.

Please be gentle.