Still cursing the dentist

I'm still miserable so let's not even go there. It's amazing how a mouthache can ruin your whole month. I totally admit to this character flaw, but I can't apologize for it because that would mean moving my jaw to form words and that isn't going to happen until Halloween.

Cookies, who doesn't want a big bouquet of some?

I interrupt my excrutiating mouth pain in attempt to rot your teeth out. In a good way. :)




Who couldn't use this sweet treat to brighten their day just because? Well, our friends at Cookies By Design are going to send one lucky winner a delicious treat just because you rock. So, the only thing you need to be eligible for this yummy treat is to email me something like, "Hey, SubDiva! I could really use a big bunch of cookies delivered to my door." And you will be entered to win. All entries must be received by July 18, 2008, and I will draw 1 winner at random.

Because I'm a giver...with a sweet tooth.

Divamail me! (Oh yeah, and you have to be a Suburban Diva subscriber, so get over there for free newsletters, tasty treats like this and no spam. SuburbanDiva.com

I want my teeth back

There is about to be a new arrival today here at casa de la diva. No, not that kind, and no, I haven't yielded to the requests of the guinea pig from Amy.

No, our new bundle of joy comes in the form of the return of the Intern. (Sounds like a horror movie, doesn't it?) Technically, he is no longer an Intern since he has since graduated from college and he returns to our home as a full-time employee here in Tampa. As he looks for a place of his own, he will be crashing here for a while, so big fun for all, and a lot less trips to Publix for me.

I gotta tell you friends, not feeling real great after this mouth thing. I wasn't all that thirsty and yesterday was Thursday. I can't open my mouth more than a quarter of an inch and there are these beautiful empanadas stamped with my name that I couldn't eat. You'd think that my teeth came out of my liver because I didn't even finish one pink cocktail. I just wanted the ice to apply to the outside of my mouth. This is putting a serious damper on my street cred.

We'll be home this weekend huddling together. Weird week of events and sometimes you just need to gather the people you love around you and remind yourself that life is all too short.

Hope yours is great.

Day 2 Post-Op

I may look like a drunk chipmunk, I feel like a hungover crocodile.

This. Sucks. Beyond. Clenched. Words.

1 day post op

I look like a drunk chipmunk.

Nothing after midnight

We're back.

*heaving, satisfied sigh*

Just took off to Orlando for the weekend to watch fireworks from a hotel balcony and hang at a pool other than our own for a couple of days. I love the 4th of July for exactly that reason. It is the quintecenticial non-obligatory holiday. You get to party with whomever you want, not have to buy a single gift, and have huge pieces of grilled meat. What's not to love?

But now we're back and it's laundry day, but that isn't even the worst of it. No, tomorrow I get my remaining 2 wisdom teeth out, so I think I may be out of commission for a couple of days, because at my age, that's what happens.

So I'm preparing for that long day of drug-induced slumber tomorrow with the sobering tasks of taking a day off.

See you Wednesday. Maybe.

I bet it tastes like sand too

Matty and I need to step away from the Family Fun magazine...

July Resolutions

Ah, July.

So I’m trying to get into this summer rhythm. I haven’t quite made it there yet. Basically, my functioning clock is operating somewhere around January.

It’s been nutty in the nuthouse lately. Next to the big things I can’t blog about, (you are thinking, what could that possibly be? That girl never shuts up!) I’ve been trying to get everything organized. Both physically and mentally. The house--that never-ending pursuit of futility, but also life stuff.

I’m not complaining, really. I think organizing life stuff is good and healthy. It means that changes are happening and you are either preparing for them, dealing with them or cleaning up after them. I think I am solidly in the one and two category which is good.

I’m loving my new job. LOVING IT. But again, that is taking some getting used to. In a good way. Challenges are good, and after years of thinking one way, it’s fun to create by way of a new angle. That’s kind of what I’m about.

So maybe July isn’t a traditional “start fresh” month, but it is around here. We’re looking at July by way of a new angle, because that’s what we’re about.

The Perfect Family Reunion Souvenir

For the last year and half, Sean's family has been planning a family reunion.

I will spare you the details, because I already owe the entire world an apology for using up the entire Internet for 9 months on the family T-shirt logistics.

Said reunion is about 1 month away, and I've been racking my brain trying to come up with a little peace offering gift for each family to celebrate such an event. (I've had to keep my plans to myself however, just in case anyone had any online banking or term paper research to do with the world's bandwidth.)

I've come up with the perfect plan.

You know how I love my HP Photobooks. For the craft-challenged like me, they are a lifesaver to preserve family memories. So what if each family were to receive a photobook? And then, because they are easily added to, we each supply one another with our own personal family page? And then we can all switch photos online and add them our libraries and print them out at home in September? How great of a second cousin thrice removed would I be??



And did I mention they're on sale?


I got an email from HP saying the Photobooks are 25-50% off right now until July 5th. That means you could get a 5x7 book for $7.49 each. With free shipping.




So like I could really make this happen for not a whole lot of green.

(And so could you!)

Put some Windex on that, it will be fine

Our first Thirsty Thursday injury...

I really thought it was sprained. I thought when he fell out of the tree last Thursday, that an ice pack would suffice. Even at the ER, they put him in the walking boot and told him to stay off of it, I thought we were in the clear. Not exactly, said our favorite orthopedist this morning.

Fractured fibula. (Say that 5 times fast).

Hard cast. He's in heaven--it's a rite of passage for any 8 year-old boy. But I'm a little sheepish after this conversation to the Intern on the way home:

Matty: Danny, I got a cast!

(Pause.)

Matty: Yep! I fell out of a tree at Thirsty Thursdays!

I love the bar vernacular. It's my proudest moment as a mother.

Sunday tale of woe

I'm purging the house of crud. Decluttering. Summer cleaning. Deep cleaning. Organizing. Simplifying.

In other words, going out of my flipping mind.

Why did I start in Stevie's room? Why....

Alternative titles for this post:

*3 miracles occurred here: 1) I clipped coupons, 2) I remembered to bring the coupons to the grocery store, 3) I then remembered to hand over said coupons to the cashier.

*Look! I just saved enough for 2 teaspoons of gas!

*Cutting coupons is so unDiva-like, I should be cutting limes for my Mojitos instead.

*I remember when you used to be cool.

*Seriously?

Is it wise?

In my quest to visit every medical professional I can think of this summer, I've finally decided to get my last two wisdom teeth out. I only have two left because the first two over 15 years ago didn't go well.

Anyway, after waiting 1 full hour for a consultation with the oral surgeon--if I didn't want to be completely euthanized I could have skipped this formality but I want to wake up 3 days later under a cloud of Percoset and ask if it was a boy or a girl--I finally get in to meet the doctor.

Very nice, and I am immediately sheepish about being so bitchy about waiting (if only in my indignant mind) because he is so apologetic and starts telling me of all the good drugs he is going to give me before, during and after the procedure. I ask if we could just do it now?

But I tell him that while I appreciate his impassioned speech on the risks and benefits of general anesthesia, I am already dentalphobic and will be signing up for the coma option, thanks. I am scheduled for July 8.

"July 8? Is that a Tuesday? You may want to reschedule because I leave for vacation on that Thursday."

"Um, isn't that after the 8th?"

"Yes, but I would hate to leave town just two days after. It's not that your case is particularly complicated, it's just that at your age, it's going to take you longer to recover."

At my age? What the hell?

I was just about to launch into my 4 c-sections, heart trauma and misc. other surgeries in which I am chasing toddlers and dogs 15 minutes post-op when he gives me a Valium to take on the morning of the 8th before I even get there.

I smile with 2 teeth more than I will after the 8th.

Quiet

It is so dern quiet here. Unsettlingly so.

This is week 1 and only of camp. They are gone from 8:30-3 everyday. (Except to attend one of the dozens of doctor's appointments scheduled...) But this year Amy was old enough to go with her brothers.

This is strange for both of us. There are times when I feel she is still physically attached to me--more so than the others because she just has needed so much more in her short little life. There are precious few others she trusts--some good friends and our beloved Tasha, but basically it's the Mom and Amy show all day every day. And I love that, I really do.

But there are moments when I realize she needs to be away from me to do normal little girl things. And today is one of those moments.

And in a sort of related aside, Stevie--the old guy, the almost teenager texting 3600 times in one month--is still my big baby and I love it. Here's proof:



Armed with some downtime and his sister's sidewalk chalk, he made an entire NHL official ice rink in our street.

It was the sweetest thing I've seen in a long time.

What a week...

Jeesh, it's been kind of a big week around here. I'm still sort of hanging on an inhale. When I wake up from this crazy dream, I'll be more coherent. Maybe I'm still suffering the after-effects of suncreen paint fumes.

But here's some Friday blog love and contest news so you'll have something to do until I collect myself again.




I'm coining this a "Weestakes": a chance to win really great prizes just because you have a wee one...

Sign up for free on Newbaby.com today! Not only will you be instantly part of the most in-the-know parenting community with the largest expert video library for new parents on the Web, but for the next 30 days, we're giving away great prizes every single day to our new members.

So sign up today--it may be a "wee stakes," but we've got big goodies for you!

And just when you thought it couldn't get any better...


We have a new contest! In cinematic celebration of the DVD release of "Definitely, Maybe," (a film by the makers of "Love, Actually" and "Notting Hill") I'm asking for written submissions for your proposal stories! Witty, touching, tragic…anything goes. Just divamail me your story (doesn't have to be long, mind you) by Thursday, June 26th, and you can win a prize pack of all three movies. We'll post the winning entry on Suburbandiva.com.

Blognouncement

Deep breath…

Okay, so out of complete left field, I get a call from the St. Pete Times last week asking me if I’d be interested in contributing to their new parenting site Go Momma as a “celebrity guest blogger.”

After the EMS revived me, I managed, “Sure, what time?” “Can I bring the wine?” and “How do I spell your name so I can tattoo it on my ankle?”

And so coming soon to a theater near you will be my humble blog contributions a couple of times a week on parenting Diva style.

I’m thinking I’m the “before” shot for the real experts…

More Divas in the house

A friend of mine has a new blog.

So? Who doesn't? You ask youself. Blog is the new black.

This one is different for exactly that reason, blog is the new black, and at 50% off.

The Deal Divas over at the St. Pete Times are dishing out fashionable deals, but making me split my seams in laughter while doing it. Seriously, hip bloggers that not only tell you where to find discount designer shoes, but make you laugh hysterically while doing it? Not only will I read daily, I might weave them each friendship bracelets.

If it matches their outfits.

Home, reluctantly

Well. I'm home. And none too pleased about being on the mainland again.

Technically, I'm peninsula-side, but it's still not the same as island time. At all.

We had a fabulous time. Beyond fabulous, like crazy fantastublous. We spent 5 solid days on the beach collecting sand dollars and shark's teeth, playing in the waves, making sand castles, watching dolphins. We spent out nights with friends, eating great food, drinking island cocktails and watching sunsets. It was perfect. Jessie is completely blond, Amy learned to wade out pretty far in the surf, Matty is the color of hot chocolate, and Stevie put more miles on his bike than Lance Armstrong. If beachcombing was an Olympic event, I'd be a gold medalist. Sean won silver for lugging all of our equipment to the beach and back everyday.

We got home late yesterday but we'd all still be there if it weren't for that job-because-we-need-to-eat thing. Although if we could trade in all of these sand dollars for actual green ones, we could retire right now and be millionaires.



(These aren't all mine, I was just the banker for the team of diggers.)



And this is one of only 3 pictures I took the entire time. I hate bringing the camera to the beach for so many reasons, but my iPhone was handy one evening, so here you go. (If some of my more photogenic friends send me good ones, I'll post.)

Okay, let me go back into my decompression chamber so as to re-acclimate myself to land.

Sigh.

Gone Fishin'

Dear Blog:

We're on our way to the beach, thanks for minding the store while we're gone.

Please take out the trash on Friday and don't forget to feed the dog and take in the newspapers.

We'll be back on Wednesday, and the neighbors are watching, so no wild blog parties.

I know how you are.

Bon Voyage,

T.

Island Eve

It's officially Vacation Eve. And I am completely and utterly unglued.

Besides running around like a crazy woman who needs a vacation (and an eyebrow wax, but that's beside the point)last night was my monthly meeting. Oy. I know I complain of this, which begs the question, why Trace, why do you do it? Well, it's complicated. In a Machivellian sort of way. I feel like I need to pay my dues here so that my other really fun and fulfilling gigs will continue. Because I really, really like writing the other stuff.

So I was hoping this month would be easy--they'd have not a lot to say so I could just write out the article in between laundry loads and trips to the car. Not so much. It was a long, convoluted and particularly contentious 3 hours in which to write about.

So that seriously put a damper in my Olympic training for events like the beer luge, the 100 yard dash across hot sand and how many items I can pack in a Rubbermaid bin. So I am kind of scrambling tonight, but much calmer than I was this morning.

Because when Amy and I went to the grocery store, I decided to get a pedicure at this place Val told me about next door. She literally salivates when she speaks of it, and I'm thinking, I've had pedicures before, really, how good could be?

Oh. My. God. She did things that shouldn't be legal or at least require a luxury tax, a permit and a pact with the devil. There was parafin and salts and then this hot rock thing that was A.MAZ.ING. I didn't understand a word she said, but she spoke the language of love with those rocks, and I think I want to date her seriously. She had me at, "You want deluxe for $28?"

Menwhile, Amy sits next to me and they paint her nails and toes. Pink. WIth flowers. She is mesmorized and has not taken her eyes from her fingers since. It was wonderful.

So I still have an incredible amount to get done tonight, but somehow I do not care as much as I did 6 hours ago.

I cannot wait to squish my newly-beautified toes in that sand tomorrow.