No More Ads

After several years of having the BlogHer ads on my side panel and complying with their specific rules about where and how and what to do with their ad panel, I decided to let it go. I stopped posting so they'd pull their ad, and I would likely not have been posting much anyway. But the rule is you have to post regularly to keep their ad panel up and running, and I haven't been, so they took it down, and I was ready to let it go. It's designed to generate income for the blogger, but for whatever reason it never earned me income. In fact, I'm pretty sure I got ONE $18 check in about 5 years' time. And I like having complete control back from my blog, frankly, and would be reticent to take on those kinds of ads again. And now I can review any product I want, if I want to, and nobody can tell me I can't.  (That was another of their rules that I didn't like, but tolerated for long enough.)

Updates for Cathy:

Making cake truffles. Lots of them. Folks like them, I like making them. Considering incorporating, but we'll see. Strangely enough, folks want money for stuff like that, but the tradename I want is PERFECTO for me and I cannot wait to share it with you. My attorney is checking availability this week and we'll see what we'll see when we see.

My side still hurts. I've had every test, up to and including exploratory surgery, to figure out why. Still don't know why. I am in the process of a high-dose vitamin D treatment plan as I am drastically low, below normal healthy levels, so we'll see what that brings.

Today is my 8th wedding anniversary. Greg and I were married in our hometown, surrounded by our loved ones, EXACTLY 8 years ago. Actually, right now we were probably standing in the receiving line. Beautiful, beautiful day it was, in every way. Never been sorry. I love you Greg, in ways that I never knew existed. I hope the next year blows this past year out of the water for us, but I know even if it doesn't, we'll muddle through together, and I'll be glad you're by my side while we go. No road too long.

Jackson is four and a half, Samantha just turned seven. They are growing so very, very fast, and the days seem to fly by. They continue to amaze and delight me with who they are and who they are becoming, and I smile in my heart when they say "You're the best mom EVER!" (I even try to smile when Sam tells me "It  must be AWESOME to have a mom like {insert another kids' mom's name here}..." Thanks, kid.) How I got so lucky to have two healthy, smart, fun, beautiful kids who also happen to usually think I hung the moon despite my many, many faults, I'll never know. But I'm not complaining.

I fell this morning in the shower, hit my left side on the tub going down. So, much sitting and little else is in my future for the next few days, as I'm pretty sure I cracked at least one rib. As in, I HEARD an audible "CRACK" when I hit the tub. Dear sweet baby jesus, this hurts!

I miss blogging and plan to return soon, and hope you'll return to reading. It's good for me, and I need more things that are good for me. Don't we all? Yes, we do.

Holiday Greetings

Nothing particularly fancy, dear reader.  Just me, telling you, from my heart, that I hope your holidays are joyous, peaceful and filled with love and family and all of your favorite things.

I'll be ending my 2010 by going under the knife, for an exploratory laparascopy, in hopes of finding what's been causing me pain for the better part of the year.  Cross a finger or two, and send up a prayer for me, wouldja?  I hope 2011 is as full of solutions and relief as 2010 was of pain and unanswered questions. 

I need to sleep, and I need to finish up my baking.  I'll do the former first and the latter tomorrow.  Hopefully back to write more before the year gets away altogether.

So I'm Thinking

And we all know how dangerous that can be.

I'm thinking of Aimee today.  Not unusual, and today's thoughts are for no particular reason, just thinking of her.  Actually not true.  Some stuff on Facebook reminded me of her.  That's all.  So here's the thing. I still have moments, and you're going to think I'm crackers, where I think I should be able to shoot her an email, or pick up the phone and call her.  There is still a small part in my brain that just simple re-fucking-fuses to believe/accept/process that she's really gone.  And that sucks.  Every time I have the realization all over again. 

I'm thinking of cake truffles today.  That's nothing new, I think of cake truffles every day.  This week I'm doing fun fall/Thanksgiving ones, and they are going to be deelish and bee-u-teeful. 

I'm thinking of my office.  Unfortunately, it's gone the way of TRASHED again, and now requires another great paper movement. 

I'm thinking that PBS's show "The Cat In The Hat", starring Martin Short as the cat, may have my new least-favorite songs E.V.E.R.  "The thingamajigger is on its WAAAAY, go! go! go! go! on an adventure..."  Wrist-slit-inducing, that one is...

I'm thinking I have the cutest kids ever.  I have pics to prove it.

I'm thinking it's time to get Sam to school and get my but in gear around here today.  And I'm thinking that this was a rather random, pointless blog entry.  And I'm thinking that's OK.  And I'm thinking I should stop typing now.

No Way It's November

And yet, somehow it is. 
The blog has gone by the wayside, and I undoubtedly write this mostly for myself.  Earned.

So, some random tidbits from my life, as though anyone but me was still reading about my life here.

~ October blew by, with beautiful weather, and another craft show's worth of cake truffles sold (in 5 hours, thankyouverymuch).  I rocked the craft show, baby.  Believe it.

~ My side still hurts.  It still sucks.

~ We've been battling stomach flu and head colds this week, and I'm tired as can be despite some pretty decent sleep.

~ My house needs help.  Being sick all week does a real number on my housecleaning efforts.  Everything's been Lysoled within an inch of its life but it's all still laying around.

~  I am sick to death of cooking meals.  Seriously.  Six years being home has driven me over the brink of giving a crap if I ever bake/broil/fry anything ever again.  We could live on cereal and sandwiches forever if it was up to me.

~ After our FABULOUS {eyeroll} health insurance changed July 1 again (thanks Greg's employers), they raised our deductible another $1k mid-calendar  year.  Result: we owe $1300 for my colonoscopy that should have been covered as I'd already "met" my deductible as far as we knew.  You know, the colonoscopy that told me nothing.  The one that said I'm "normal". 

~ I still have some of the best freaking friends and family in the world.  Get used to hearing it.

~ My bestie Deb is coming in December to visit, and possibly wrangle a show with me.  I have to keep myself from giggling all day long when I think about it, and sometimes I just can't stop myself.

~  Sadly, we said goodbye to my Granny in October. She lived her life loving God and witnessing the best she could, and we believe she has gone on to be with Him, and that He welcomed her with loving arms, and we rejoice in letting her go on to that reward.  But it's hard to let her go, even though we really let her go a few years ago when Alzheimer's put its grip on her.  We miss her and celebrate her and believe that she's watching down on us, and that she can feel our love, even from where she now rests.

~ I hope, as always, to blog more soon, but as always, make no promises.  Peace.

Most Unlikely FUN Date Night -OR- How The Nighthawks Won Me, Too

So, if you know me, you know that I'm no football junkie.  I'm barely a football fan at all, frankly.  I support "our Huskers" because my dad loved them growing up so it's kind of automatic; and my husband and his family love them, too, so I spend time yearly submerged in Husker Nation.  But we don't get out and SEE games in person much.  We're a "watch it on TV" set of fans, mostly.

In fact, I've only been to two live football games (other than high school and midget games, and really, those don't count) ever in my life, both Husker games: one as a kid with my mom and siblings, and it was SO fracking cold that I can't even tell you who they played, if we won, or any other pertinent information; and the other with Greg, 12 years ago, and I think "we" clobbered "them" thoroughly enough that Greg and I left before the 4th quarter to beat the traffic.  Frankly, I was impressed almost-not-at-all BOTH times. 

Greg always said I just didn't get it when it came to watching football live in the stadium.  He was right, I didn't get it. I can take it or leave it at home on my own couch, so the idea of trekking long distances to sit on a hard seat, surrounded by potentially offensive strangers, for hours on end, to maybe watch "my" team get clobbered, lacked appeal. 

So I told you all of that to tell you this:  for his birthday, I bought Greg season tickets to see our newly-formed Omaha Nighthawks (one of the new teams who are part of the UFL) play some ball, live and in person.  No stadium football here, this is regular outdoor pro football.  And these guys are former- and just-barely-missed-out-on-NFL players.  Guys like Ahman Green, Jeff Garcia, Jay Moore.  Four home games will be played at the famous-and-soon-to-be-demolished Johnny Rosenblatt Stadium, home to my much-unbeloved-CWS.  (OK, and so now that I've been there, I like Rosenblatt a lot, but I still loathe the CWS.)

For the sake of a date with my husband, and out of curiousity, I wanted to go to one game.  And I sure as heck was not going to go to the COLD ones...so I wanted to go to the first game.  Greg was happy to oblige. (I think.  He didn't argue, anyway.)

So last night was the big night.  Our incredible friends the R family took our kids for us, despite the ridiculously busy week or three they have going on at their house, and we LOVE them for that.  I left them there at 3:30 and ran home to fetch my hubby, my Nighthawks shirt and my camera.  By 4:30, we were getting off the interstate and heading down 13th Street.  The entire area was already abuzz with pre-game activity, with tailgating and special events for those of us who'd bought season tickets.  Concerts, food, beer garden, bounce houses (Shhhh, don't tell our kids), and cheap programs and free game posters, and all of that before we even went through the gate.  There was an electricity that seemed unlikely for a team who had never played a game together as of  yet, and it was clear early on that our fellow Nighthawks fans are the kinds of fans that only Nebraska can produce. 

The gates opened and we filed in, excited to find our seats, to see the field (converted from a baseball field to a football field in a few shorts week) and get settled in.  We quickly found that A) with a little help from my friends, I'm not too bad at picking season tickets, and that B) there really are no bad seats for football in Rosenblatt.  By the time we sat down, we had about 90 minutes until game time.  We spent it visiting, posting pics on Facebook and texting them to friends, and with about 40 minutes left to wait, I spotted two fellow 'Hawks fans eating a fabulously yummy and unhealthy plate of something I knew I had to have.  We found out it was a "Fritos Pie"...and since we had 35 minutes 'til kick-off, we had plenty of time to go get one, right?

WOW.  As we walked back up into the concourse, we saw how we would spend those 35 minutes.  Now, the concourse which had dozens of people milling around in it when we arrived, held THOUSANDS.  Belly-to-back, the hallways were packed, 12 - 15 people across, as far as the eye could see.  We'd heard it was sold out, and this showed us that it was NO silly rumor. 

We got back to our seats just as we heard them announcing "our" Nighthawks, and while I admit I was swept up in the moment, I still didn't know if I could "get it".  We'd already been sitting/standing for two hours, and the game was just starting!

And so it did. 

And then I got it. 

Roaring fans, all dressed in black and silver, came to our feet and cheered for the Nighthawks, who took on Hartford, met the challenge they brought head-on, and in the end, handed them a loss in the final seconds.  A victory for this new team, and a victory for this history-making UFL crowd, who were like old souls cheering for a team they'd loved for years.  The sea of black and silver was almost as moving (and it's strange for me to say that, trust me) as the sea of red that all Huskers understand and love.  I have never enjoyed three hours in an uncomfortable seat, surrounded by (a few) rowdy drunk people, eating junk food and screaming my head off, more.

I think the the Nighthawks and the UFL are in Omaha for the foreseeable future.  And believe it or not, I think that's a good thing.

GO Nighthawks!

September Blew By!

It's practically over, isn't it?  Seems impossible.  So, a quick update, and then onto business.

#1)  Still have side pain.  Still don't know why.  Have had cameras stuck into places that were never meant to have cameras stuck into them.  I am, in all official medical capacites, "normal".  (Save my hiatus hernia and my gastritis which is being biopsied for H.Pylori.  Good stuff.)  Still hurt, but I'm normal.  Dandy.  I'm now considering hypnosis to learn to ignore pain, since it's apparently just random nerve pain that cannot be diagnosed or cured.

#2)  Still in therapy with the BEST. THERAPIST. EVER. Seeing a chiro, he makes me smile with his magic hands. (Minds out of the gutters, please.  The man is entirely professional and is doing me worlds of good.)

3)  Jackson waffles between loving and hating preschool, and still goes anyway. 

4)  Samantha loves first grade, but hates getting up.

5)  Greg is tired and probably depressed and feeling overwhelmed, and that sucks.  On the up side, however, he has season tickets to see our new Omaha Nighthawks play.  (Line forms here to be Greg's new bestie to get in on a game.)

6)  Did my first craft show selling cake truffles, had very positive feedback, lots of "oohs" and "ahs" and lots of calling-card-taking.  And a few sales, so that's nice, too.  Other craft shows coming up, I am considering them.  This one was a real bitch because I'd never done one before, so I had to build displays, figure out everything.  Now that my feet are wet, I'm pondering diving back in a few more times.

7)  I pinched a nerve in my back while detailing the inside of my vehicle this morning.  I am trying to ignore it.

8)  I have been a lousy blogger (and a fairly lousy housekeeper, as well, by the way, but that's another story) and need to get back on here more often.

9)  I am likely starting a blog entirely devoted to my cake truffles.  It will be separate from this one.  If I want folks to buy cake truffles, I probably shouldn't show them what a potty mouth I am. 

10)  To you who still read and still check in despite this blogging dryspell, thank you. 

I'm Tired

Of what, you ask?  Oh, well, let me break it down for you. 


I am tired of, in no particular order:*

Waiting around to have the latest uncomfortable/invasive/gross test done.

Test results that are all "normal" despite having lived the most abnormal summer of my 37 years.

My side hurting.

My stomach hurting.

Anxiety leaving, showing no signs of coming back, until the very day I say I think I've left it behind; and then having the dirty bitch come back again.

Irregular cycles.

My hair falling out like it has someplace better to be.

Nobody on my "medical team" giving a shit that my hair is falling out at age 37. 

Making my husband worry about me, and money, and what's coming next.

Being the reason that my kids' prayers include things like "Please, God, help Mommy to feel better RIGHT NOW."

Opening hospital bills.

Not having money to pay said hospital bills.

Sleeping on a heating pad.

Being told the preschool tuition assistance ("scholarship") that we don't qualify for is something I should be GLAD for, since I should also "be glad that my husband even HAS a job".

My best friend being dead.  That could stop any fucking time now.

Being tired.

Being upset.

Being in limbo.

Wondering, before I ever open my eyes in the morning, how I'm going to feel once I get out of bed. 

Thinking about, wondering about, talking about, dreaming about, and worrying about if we're doing the right tests, if I should find new/different doctors, if I should ignore and disregard the pain, how we're going to pay for anything, and what's going on inside my body at any given moment. 

We are going on four months that this has been going on, and I'm not sure how much more I can take.  I want my life back.

* I realize this is improper use of a colon.  I don't care.  I'm tired of punctuation, too.

Oh, The Times They Are A'Changin'...

...and we're ready for it here at FMFO!

Jackson just turned four. Four. Seems impossible that he has been with us for that long, and yet I can't remember our life without him. He completed our family in a way I didn't know it needed until he came to be with us. He is starting 3-days-a-week preschool this year, and while he had several weeks this summer when he calmly and dispassionately insisted he'd rather wait and go next year, he did a 180 and is now enthusiastic about RFP and the wonderful new things it holds for him this year.

Samantha started 1st Grade this week. First. Flipping. Grade. Speaking of things that seem impossible. How can she be so big? So grown-up (and she is, people, so lovely and long-legged and big-girl looking), and and yet so much still wanting to be our little girl in many ways. Her teacher is a kindred spirit, and we are excited for her to spend this year with such an inspiring woman. But first grade is all new stuff, harder stuff, more "boring" stuff, as she calls it...but she is ready, and so are we.

Greg's company has been through some major pains this year, but fortunately some of them are now growing pains. He continues to be a vital part of his department, and is a valued part of the company as a whole. Some new stuff for him as well, including him now being an HVAC Journeyman licensed in two states, which sure looks nice on a resume, if nothing else, should the need for a resume ever arise. Not that he's looking. I'm just sayin'.

For me? Oh, many changes. After having to give up the season vendor spot at the farmer's market, I found out that I can, actually, do craft shows without a licensed kitchen as well, hallelu. So I'm doing a great craft show this fall, selling cake truffles, and I can't wait to see how it goes. More on that to come.

What else? Oh, well, thanks to this mystery illness that's been going on since May, I'm several sizes smaller, and able to wear clothes I would not have been able to wear since before I was Mrs. C. That's better than seven years, folks. While it's not how I wanted to lose weight, and while there are costs for that (like losing what feels like all my hair three months later from the sudden weight change), I'll take it. I offered God a deal, more than once: I said I'd take every pound back to not have to have lived this summer of tests, therapy and pain. I'd take the weight back if he'd give me a mulligan on this summer. He didn't take me up on it, so I guess I'll settle for shopping in the "regular" department instead. And no worries, I'm still plenty plump for my taste; no chance of me blowing away. I didn't lose THAT much weight.

So, without being too wordy (ha ha), and in case you haven't heard, I have had this pain on my right side since May. A myriad of other symptoms came and went, but I still have pain in my right side, four months later. And we still don't know why. I now have pain in my true stomach as well. I've been examined, palpated, x-rayed, ultrasounded, contrast-dyed, x-rayed again via IVP, C/T scanned, blood worked, urinalysissed (word? yes, it now, I think), HIDA scanned, PAP smeared - you name it, I've had it done. I am, in every way so far, "normal". Funny word, "normal". So the only area left to test, short of a laparascopic exploratory, is GI testing. Mmm. Butt Camera, coming up, I'll bet. I see the GI specialist on Monday. Can't hardly wait.

That's a lie. I'd love to wait. I'd love to wake up tomorrow with absolutely no pain, and not need to go see the GI doctor this week. I've begged for it. No dice so far. So on to the GI testing we go.

Because while all these other changes are happening in our lives, one thing that's not changing is that I have this pain, in my mid-right side, and it won't go away. I'm not dying, we've pretty much concluded that. But just because I'm not dying because of it doesn't mean I am living like I want to be living, as long as it's still there.

So the changes we are really hoping for haven't come yet. I'd like to lose a few more pounds, get my BMI down a few more points. I'd like to start exercising, still haven't managed to do that. I'd like to figure out how to slow down my kids' growing-up. I'd like to hear a doctor say "Cathy, we figured out what's causing this, and here's how we fix it." THAT would be a very welcome change.

August Update

We camped at the zoo last night, Sam and I did, that is - with the Girl Scouts, had a fun time, but very little sleep. Ugh.

Jackson is sick, fever is broken now, but big D rages, on and cough is no fun. Greg's not feeling so hot either.

Sam starts school in two weeks. I am not looking forward to it. Jackson may or may not start after Labor Day, 3 days a week at RF.

I'm exhausted.

Oh, and still don't know what's wrong with me. IVP coming up this week. Fun stuff.

Only bright spot is that Mom is coming for a few days, bringing my nephew for a couple of them, hope to have a good time.

Except, oh...house is trashed, laundry behind, and the sick boy won't go to sleep so I can either get it done or go to bed so I can do it tomorrow.

This is NOT a chipper update. Sorry 'bout that.

Another Short

Crown is done, mouth feels fine. Top tooth calmed down, we're leaving it for now until I at least pay off this root canal and find a new dentist. (Remind me to tell you THAT story sometime.)

Pain on right side continues, back to doctor today. Scheduled pelvic ultrasound for Monday. Meeting with new OB later this month. New pain med makes me rather nauseous. Hope to not need much of it, or I'll just have to suffer with ibuprofen and tylenol.

Work with therapist continues and is good. I like her and we talk easily. The short of THAT is that my brain needs to slow the heck down, I'm too smart for my own good, and Aimee's death is every bit as earth-shattering to my brain as I thought it would be.

Off to have a family snuggle.

Happy Independence Day from FMFO

Hope your day was sunny and warm and filled with good food (hopefully including s'mores like we had - see below), good times (hopefully with people you love), and will end with good fireworks (hopefully done by professionals who know what they're doing, by the way...you know how I feel about that amateur, home-style fireworks shit...).


Happy Birthday America!

Oh Ovary...

Yoo00000-hoooo! Can you hear me down there? I've got just one tiny, small, egg-sized question for you. Just one.

What the raging HELL is wrong with you?!?!?!?

It does NOT TAKE six days to drop an egg. This is ridonculous. Get it over with already. You're killin' me, Alice. You're goddamn-killin' me.

That is all.

*************************************

This concludes the TMI portion of FMFO for this week. Thank you for your patience.

The Short of It

Teeth are jacked up. One trying to fight the crown, killing me, and to top it off, it had to be surprise root canal-ed today. Another is barking at me and may need the same treatment. Meanwhile I'm living on ibuprofen, because of that and because I have some really shitty pain on my right side, suspected ovarian pain but they tell me there is nothing there on every U/S in the last three years. Greg just went to fill the Darvocet scrip the dentist gave me that she was "almost sure I wouldn't need". Got news for her.

On the up side, I start with a therapist tomorrow who I am VERY excited about seeing and working with. Someday I'll explain all the crap that's been going on with me the last six weeks, but for now trust me when I say that it's been a long summer already, I need some new coping mechanisms, and I hope like hell that tomorrow is the start of finding them.

Love and smooches to you, my readers.

Best. Dad. Ever.

You just are, honey. I don't know what to tell you. Move beyond thinking you're just an average dad.

For the way you love them, and me...for the way you play with them...for the way you lift up, and support, and encourage them...for all you do for them whether you feel like it or not...for the way you get down and play with them, and the way you snuggle them at night, and smooch them in the morning...for all those things and infinitely more, I am so grateful that you are their dad. So are they. Even when they say they "only want Mommy", know that they adore you as well, and love you deeply and passionately. And they're not alone.

Happy Father's Day, honey.

Monday Update

Except it's not Monday, it's Tuesday. But it's MY Monday, OUR Monday collectively overall, so whatever. Go with it.

NOT doing the market. Wish I could, may do a few weeks later in the summer, but I couldn't make it work in my life right now, and it's not worth the stress.

My health has been wonky for weeks, and I am battling anxiety either because of it or in addition to it. Don't like it, not happy about it, but it's where I am, and it's day-by-day, and it's going to be OK.

I'm having another tooth crowned next week. Our dental insurance sucks my ass.

Aimee is still dead, and I still fucking hate it every day. Her baby would be about 13 months old now.

We had a GREAT weekend at the in-laws' this weekend, and I found myself missing home and wondering if I could ever go back to living there. Parts of me want to go RIGHT now and just be back home where everything is familiar and quiet and peaceful, where there are no gang shootings, and you can leave your water bottle outside the church to take your kids in and show them the new sanctuary and you KNOW it'll still be there when you come back out; and part of me knows that there are things I love about this city that will NEVER come to exist in our hometown. AND Greg's company keeps throwing money at him, and that makes it hard to think about going back to the "City of Shitty Wages and No Shopping".

Being sick for three weeks netted me a 12 pound loss. I would take every pound back to have those three weeks back and not have to go through that, but since I can't make that exchange, I'll take being down 12.

That is all. Stick around, I may have some good stuff coming soon enough. I say that a lot, don't I? Hmm.

Big New Scary Scary Good Stuff

It's official.

I'm a season vendor at our new awesome local farmers market.

Selling cake truffles.

The market opens on Sunday, May 30th.

I am NOT ready, and am battling some health issues that are creating hurdles, but I'll jump them all, one at a time. I am excited, and scared, and proud, and overwhelmed...and I can't wait to see what happens.

Stay tuned, readers. I'm hoping to report all good news, and often.

I'm No Farm Girl...BUT...

...it seems I may be spending my summer Sundays at the farmers market.

EEK!

I filed my application this morning to be a season vendor for a new, very cool farmers market opening soon here in the city.

Doing what, you ask?

Cake truffles, baby. Maybe cookie truffles and cake cookies, too.

I'm a little giddy over here, and trying not to get ahead of myself. I haven't even been accepted yet. That hasn't stopped me from shopping for a canopy today, my friend.

I was supposed to go to the early meeting last night regarding the new market. Due to scheduling problems, I wasn't able to, and had to attend the late meeting; at which I felt a REALLY great vibe, and met some REALLY great people who were excited FOR and WITH me. As my friend Sara says, sometimes the stars just line up for you.

Stay tuned, folks. I'm scared to death, but it's nice to be so excited about something that it's scary, isn't it?

To Me On My 37th Birthday

Things to remember as you go into this next year of your life:

1. Gary is right. Don't bitch about getting older - it beats the alternative. Remember that there are people you love who will never see 37.

2. There is almost nothing you want to do in your life that you are not smart enough to accomplish. Smarts has never been your problem. You're not lacking in talent, either. What you need is more drive, more determination, and less lazy. John laid it out for you 18 years ago - top 3 in talent, bottom 3 in discipline.

3. Get your butt in gear. Apply that to pretty much everything. (see #2)

4. You have beautiful eyes. You always have. Take care of them.

5. You are lucky, lucky, lucky to have the husband that you have. Remember all the things you say you'd never put up with from a husband, and remember that with Greg, you don't have to put up with any of them because he doesn't do them. Appreciate all that he is, and remember to be kind to him "in the every day", and don't take out your bad moods on him just because he's closest...and cut yourself some slack as a wife while you're at it. The one thing we KNOW is that you are doing your best on most given days, and that's all you can do. Beating yourself up for what you're not doing is futile and stupid.

6. Most days I like who you are as a mom to Jack and Sam. Keep working on the things that you know aren't what you want in how you parent. And remember that they're just kids. Be kinder to them. And dang, stop yelling so much, even if they're pushing your buttons and you feel like you'll explode. No mother ever exploded from not yelling. You can't expect them to learn to control themselves if you can't control yourself. Remember what you tell them - you can make a good choice, no matter what ANYBODY else does.

7. Uh, I don't know how else to say this...get your chubby self BACK on the Beach. Seriously. I don't think we need to beat that dead horse any further - just do it.

8. Get back to meditating and start getting more sleep. Like, all the time.

9. Be more willing to join in, to sing along, and to take risks. Let go of some of those old scars and old baggage. They're weighing you down.

10. Don't give up, and don't let hurdles stop you. Jump them and get on with it.

11. Your peanut butter cake truffles are the freaking bomb.

12. You have some really, really kick-ass friends. Keep appreciating and loving them the best way you can. They deserve the best you can give them (as does your family, as do YOU, by the way...)

13. Never forget all you want to be and do, and keep your eye on the prize. Know that you are loved, you are cherished, and time spent doubting yourself and second-guessing yourself is wasted time. And we don't have that kind of time to waste, do we? Happy Birthday, lady.

Very First Sunday in the Merry, Merry Month of May

Lots going on here this months, my lovelies. Seems May is always this way. I'm starting to think all of this beautiful weather is given to use to get us through these busy spring days.

Two high school graduations. One college graduation. Making 7 dozen cake truffles for one of them. Our annual kick-ass garage sale that first kicks MY ass in preparation. End of preschool activities. End of Kindergarten activities. Spring cleaning. Yard work. Garden-planting. Farmer's Markets. Dentist appointments.

More to come. Off to clean my kitchen.

To ABC, Broadcaster of LOST

I hate you.

That is all.

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OK, that's not all. A re-run? REALLY? NOW?? Are you kidding me? And are you (the ABC powers-that-be) all sitting at home giggling to yourselves because you already know how it ends and we don't? HMMM? Are you?

Ya big jerks.

THAT is all.