My Boo Boo Kitty Turns Twenty One Tomorrow!

On May 23rd, my oldest child turns 21 years old. Am I really that old? Geez! It seems like yesterday that she was just born! Gina, who I affectionately call my ‘boo boo kitty’ is my first born child, as well as Simone’s mother.

This girl always gave me a run for my money. Mischievous from birth, she made curiosity her main goal in life! Let me give you a few little stories about my Boo-Boo Kitty…

By the time Gina was a year old, she could speak fluently and it was only a few months after she was speaking in sentences that she began to be able to read, recite the alphabet, spell words forwards and backwards and ask lots of questions. She was potty trained before she was two and used to love to show off her cute little panties. One day, we had to go to court, so I got her all dressed up in her cute little dress, shoes and socks and of course her bright colored undies. I made sure she was fully dressed before we left and jumped in a cab, rushing off to the court house. We show up and all is silent during roll call. She was very well behaved with a weird grin on her face. What happened next mortified me and to this day makes me laugh. The child stood up on the bench we were sitting on, turned around to everyone in the court room, lifted up her cute little dress and proclaimed “Look!!!!! I have no panties on!” Oh-My-God! Her absolute innocence made it very difficult to ever be mad at her for some of the stunts that she would pull.

By the time she was three, my daughter Hannah was a year old. Gina loved nail polish, scissors, and really anything that could make a mess and create something interesting. Anytime something mischievous would happen, for whatever reason, she liked getting up really early to do it. Of course that meant that I was sleeping. One very early morning, Gina went searching through the house for my red nail polish. She found it hidden way up high in a cabinet. She climbed up, got the red nail polish, brought it into Hannah, who was in her crib, and proceeded to paint her red. She must have tipped the bottle over too in the process, because there were drips of red nail polish all over the carpet. After finishing her living master piece, she came into my room and tapped me on the back. I was sleeping, and I hear this little voice softly saying, “Mommy, Mommy, Hannah’s bleeding. Hannah’s bleeding Mommy. Hannah’s bleeding.” I woke up, jumped out of bed and rushed into Hannah’s room. There was my little sweet girl with her legs hanging out of the crib. She was just sitting there like some sort of bloody prisoner. She wasn’t crying, and because I was still half asleep, I didn’t smell the strong nail polish odor that emanated from the room. I started to examine Hannah to try to figure out where she was bleeding from. It looked like a blood bath in her crib. Her white crib was smeared with red polish, her legs and arms and part of her face as well. Her sheets had drips of red. At this point I was totally awake, and there was Gina standing at my side watching me examine Hannah. Gina didn’t say a word. She just stood there grinning at her work. Finally, I smelled the strong odor of nail polish and realized it was just polish and no blood was spilled. I couldn’t be angry with this child, although it was a little less innocent! She actually told me that Hannah was bleeding. Hmm? Should I have disciplined her for that? I didn’t.

Not too long after the nail polish incident, she found the scissors and decided to give her self a hair cut. We had to get it almost completely cut off, and from that point on, Gina would only wear dresses. She thought she looked like a boy.

She found all my baking supplies and one morning, decided to climb up to the top cabinet and get it all down. Flour, sugar, cinnamon, all my spices, chocolate chips, coconut shreds, walnuts and salt…Of course this was all before the break of dawn. Gina took all the ingredients, and on her brown rug in the play room, moved all the toys to make room for the giant cookie she was going to make me for breakfast. When she finished making her masterpiece cookie, she proudly woke me up and told me that she made me something. I got up out of bed, and she took me by the hand into the playroom. She puts both hands out and says, “Look, I made you a biiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggggg cookie!!!!!!!!!!!” She was so proud of the work she had done. As a matter of fact, it must have taken her HOURS to make it. It did look like a giant round cookie. I just smiled and teared up to look at that sweet face. How many parents get a giant cookie for breakfast, made by their precocious three year old?

Gina was always full of energy, smiling and loving to get the best of us. She is talented in art (although she doesn’t think so) great with the flute, loves fashion and is very social. When she was nineteen years old she gave birth to Simmi. Being young and not ready to have a child, she faced one of the most difficult decisions ever. As a family, we wanted her to make the best decision for her life, and she chose to let us raise Simone. Currently, she has been missing me a lot and has been considering moving to New Mexico. In the near future I hope that will come to fruition. I miss her terribly, and would love to have her closer to me.

Happy Birthday Boo-Boo Kitty…I love you dearly!

The Perpetual Witching Hour

The Witching Hour is a phrase often used in superstitious circles when demons, witches or evil spirits lurk about and are at the height of their malevolent power. Usually this is the time after 12:00am. Spooky right? Well, the Witching Hour can also mean something else. Something far more sinister, paralyzing and can leave YOU feeling like a demon, witch or a malevolent being. This witching hour is usually only contained within a short period of time and it can happen at any time day or night. But what brings on the Witching hour? Busyness!

Just “TRY” to concentrate and get something substantial and important done and along comes this creature, soft, warm, smirking and pint sized to make your life a living hell! I have been living in a perpetual witching hour for the last three days. It hasn’t stopped. I’ll explain a little of how the witching hour festers, then throbs and finally pops like a massive zit all oozy and bloody!

Here it goes:

For you parents, have you ever tried to take an important call and two minutes into your conversation little Festus Jr. comes over and starts pulling on your pants, crying, screaming and nothing you do can calm him down…EXCEPT get off the phone? You end the call, hang up and little Festus decides to smile and walk away? Did he want anything? NO! You go to see how he is, and he doesn’t want to have anything to do with you. He’s playing with his trucks, spinning around wildly and having fun. So you sneak back into the kitchen to get on the phone because of how urgent the call was. You pick up the phone and start to dial and guess who comes barreling into the room screaming like someone was trying to murder him? You guessed it, FESTUS! You scratch your head still being patient, end your second attempt to make that call and as soon as you put that phone on the hook, Festus doesn’t have a care in the world. This of course continues. There is no rhyme or reason for it because it makes no sense what so ever! Does Festus want attention? Hmm, it’s hard to say because when you give him attention he treats you like you don’t even exist.

Here are some other short examples of when the Witching Hour is administered by our power-packed half pints:

• Making a meal
• Balancing the checkbook
• Shopping for food
• Doing laundry
• Making love (just try that one, and it’s enough to turn you off right away!)
• When your friends or family are over
• During the child’s birthday party (”Its my party and I’ll cry if I want to)
• After they are in bed and you sit down to watch your favorite show
• TRYING TO WORK FROM HOME!

What is that? Why is it that children instinctively know when you need to get something important done and that’s when the world is coming to an end for them? They were fine just two seconds ago and now they are caught up in a panicky whirlwind of emotion that only stops when you do NOTHING!

This is what my life for the last three days has been like. I have both self-imposed deadlines as well as external deadlines to meet, and it seems like as soon as I think its quiet, my little cutie pie Simmi is off into a screaming session that only ends when I decide to do nothing at all. Its not a fluke either. When I was creating this child’s website, the screaming was incessant. I always work on articles or other things that are important for me to get done online at night and if I don’t get it finished, I save my work, check it during her nap time and publish. Easy right? But what happens when you have something pressing to do, like LEARN A NEW MANAGEMENT SYSTEM? Huh? HUH? Ever since I made a commitment to this new business venture and began the process of learning about Drupal this child has been hell on wheels!

She is intuitively tuned into me. Usually she has a nice long nap during the day and I can do a few things I need to do online. Uh…not lately. No nap. Just jumping in her crib and CHEWING the wood on her crib! Yes, she has totally macked up her beautiful crib. Last week she had a splinter in her gums because she was gnawing on the wood. She has been manic over the last three days, just running around in circles and running up and down the hall.

I didn’t start downloading the system and get to business until 10:00pm last night when she finally conked out. I was up till 3:30am jamming as much in as I could. Today I did nothing. But she was still manic. If I had hair, I’d be pulling it out right about now. My world is in this constant state of flux recently. I was hoping to be refreshed and ready to go, but instead I have a screaming child on my hands and some health problems again.

When Dom came home for those four days, he brought with him some of his clothing. This clothing smelled musty. I don’t think its a coincidence that now I am having a flare up again. The same thing happened when I received the package from Dom with the “Big Girl Panties.” My son and I became really sick. When we opened that box the smell of mold wafted through the air. I haven’t had pain in my joints like I have right now since I left Maryland. I refuse to go back on steroids or anti-inflammatory medication and the only thing that seems to shut off my auto-immune response is being on a raw diet.

Can you tell I have a lot on my plate right now?

American Airlines Sucks the Big One

March 18th was a nerve racking for me. I was putting my two children on a plane alone for the first time to go and see their dad for spring break. When I first inquired about them traveling with American Airlines, I was helped by a very nice woman who assured me that the kids at no time would be left alone from the time I left them until they arrived and were released to their father’s care. I asked the woman on the phone to hold the amount quoted to me until the next day. Well, the next day rolls around and now I’m on the phone with someone else and ready to purchase the tickets. I give my confirmation number to him and he tells me that it will be more than what was quoted. An argument ensues and now I’m pissed off that they are not honoring the price that was quoted less than 24 hours earlier. It seems that the woman who reserved the flight for us the day before forgot to add $100 for the trip returning to Albuquerque. I begin to explain to the man that the woman who reserved the flight for us and quoted us the price should honor the amount. He counters my statement with “You are just trying to get away with not paying the unaccompanied minor fee for the trip home. You should have known by the simple math that something wasn’t right.” He continues to berate me, explaining that “usually one parent pays for the fee upon departure and the other parent pays for the fee on the way back.” My mouth was dropped open at that point. I NEVER explained my situation or that they were going to meet their father. That never even came up. He just assumed it. My kids could have been flying to see their grandparents or other family members, yet he chose to treat me like I was some desperate single mother trying to trick American Airlines into paying for one of the fees. What was I going to do? I needed to book the flight so I bent over and let American Airlines give it to me!

But it doesn’t end there. The day came to take them to the airport and unfortunately for some reason I thought the flight was at 7:30am. We were pretty much ready to go and I just needed to get the itinerary and flight information and we would be off, when I discovered that we might actually be late for the flight. We quickly got everything loaded in the car and headed to the airport. We parked and rushed to the check-in. We still had about ten minutes to the cut off time (you must be checked in 30 minutes before departure). I was so happy we made it. We got to the counter and I said to the woman “We made it!” and she asked which flight. I told her and she said “No problem, you have time.” At that point she excused herself for a moment, came back and said “This man will help you as soon as he is done.” I looked at her perplexed but I still felt confident everything would be ok. The man to the right of her was chattering away with a couple he knew and they were talking about cookies. I stood there wondering why he wasn’t doing his job. Then finally he begins to check the kids in when he says, “Oh, I’m sorry but you will have to take the next flight out because you missed the cut off time.” I told him I was here ten minutes before the cut off and he said that when we got to him it was past the cut off time. Gee, I wonder why? He was so busy talking about those cookies that he didn’t even notice that we were standing there. But what the fuck was up with the original woman who told me that I still had time? What was she doing the whole time??? She was checking in other people!

I continue to argue with the man and he says that he had a flight leaving at 1:30pm and that wouldn’t arrive in Philly until 9:30pm. I told him that this was unacceptable and he proceeded to tell me that it would be ANOTHER $150.00 for catching that flight! I felt like I was being scammed! I told him AGAIN that I was here before the cut off and that his co-worker referred us to him and that we have been waiting all this time. He asked her and she told him that was actually what happened because she didn’t know how to do an Unaccompanied Minor check-in. So he didn’t charge us the $150.00 but said that we STILL would have to take the 1:30pm flight because the next flight out was booked up. I told him absolutely not, and to get them on the flight that was leaving in exactly 20 minutes from now. He did it and off we ran to the security check point. I was allowed to bring my kids all the way to the gate and see them off, and the attendant gave me a pass to go. Because Simmi was also with us and because of her age she did not need a pass…but this particular security officer did not know that. She held us up for over 10 minutes calling her supervisor. I told her that a pass for the baby was not necessary and she didn’t believe me. Her supervisor came and he told her the same damn thing! So now we had to fight our way through the crowd and go through to their gate. We ran all the way and as we got to gate the plane was pulling away. We missed the flight anyway. I explained to the woman at the desk the whole story and she looked at the tickets and says “Oh, these tickets are for the flight at 1:30pm.” HUH? The man never switched them back and booked us for that 1:30pm flight after all! I started getting even more aggravated and she got the kids on the very next flight leaving at 8:00am. This is the same exact flight that the other man said was sold out.

I watched as my kids boarded the plane and I waited till it left the runway to leave. They were so excited and thrilled to be traveling alone. When they got to Philly safely I felt like I could finally rest. From now on, I will be calling all other airlines to schedule flights for my children. I NEVER want to put them on one of American Airlines planes again. I feel they didn’t honor the amount quoted, then proceeded to insult and accuse me, and finally tried to milk another $150.00 out of me due to their incompetence. They have lost my respect and my patronage.

Bald Beauty of the Day

My Youngest Daughter is Growing Up!

Should I be worried that my THIRTEEN YEAR OLD DAUGHTER looks like this? Oh…My…God! My child is growing up before my very eyes. This is my youngest daughter Shoshannah and like I just said, she is only 13 years old. She turns 14 in July and next year she can get her drivers permit. She took this picture of herself today on her cell phone and all giddy-like scrambles into my room and says “Mom wanna see a new picture I took?” My jaw dropped. I’m sorry but this pubescent girl looks like a woman! She had another growth spurt and now she is taller than me too.

Shoshannah is a pure joy– always. She is sweetness and light. I’m gonna save all the mushy stuff though for her 14th birthday and do to her what I did to Noah on this blog! If you haven’t read my post “My Son Turns 12 Today”, just click the link.

She plays the cello, works her ass off in school, she’s a great friend and an awesome daughter. But right now as I write this I’m distracted by this photograph of her! My god where did the time go? It seems like yesterday that she was only two years old with her blankie in one hand and her thumb in her mouth. She was my little shadow, following me around all over the house. She was never demanding, she would just quitely come up beside me where ever I was and suck that little thumb of hers. Sometimes I didn’t even know she was there! I could take her anywhere too. She never wandered off without me and if I just looked down for a moment, I was greeted with the largest dark chocolate eyes I have ever seen. She is altogether lovely! Not much has changed all these years. Well she stopped sucking her thumb of course, but she still loves to be near me. We have a very beautiful relationship and I cherish her and thank God for her everyday. Shoshie adores Simone and watches over her after school for me. She is the only one other than Dom and I that can handle her. Noah is great with Simmi too, don’t get me wrong, but Shoshie has taken the reins when it comes to caring for her when I need to do things. It has been great training for her, because she wants to start a babysitting job or any job! A job??? Geez, can’t you just stay my little girl for a while longer?

I’m going to miss them when they leave for spring break next week and it will be even harder when they are away for most of the summer.

Good News and Big Girl Panties

OK, I have some really good news to report. A few days ago when I was talking to my man, he told me he spoke to our landlady and she will NOT be selling the house. He had a heart to heart with her, and by the end of the conversation she said that she would continue to rent to us. (I don’t know why I’m putting this picture of myself up on the left!)

I’m very relieved that we won’t have to look for another place to live. I had so many big plans for this house, so my mind is shifted back to completing the large task at hand–painting, repairing and replacing the floors, and designing the kids rooms. We don’t mind making the investment as long as we can stay in the house for at least five years.

I just thought I would share that with all of you. I’m giving a big cyber hug (((HUG))) to all those who have kept us in their thoughts and prayers through this past week. I felt like it was the week from hell.

Now, the title of this piece is “Good News and Big Girl Panties” so by now you are probably wondering about those big girl panties right?

Well…

A few weeks ago my husband and his mom decided to go shopping for some clothes for me and kids. They wanted to send a nice package filled with lots of goodies and much needed clothing. Dom asked about the sizes of the kids and I, and I gave him all the information. Now, over the last two months I have been busy getting clothing needed for the kids and I didn’t bother to buy anything for myself. Basically I have one pair of jeans, a few white tee-shirts, about five pairs of underwear and some socks…oh, and a jacket. But that’s it. A really nice lady here in NM donated some yoga pants and shirts to me, and those are great for around the house, but I can’t wear them out. Anyway, Dom was excited to get me some new clothes and I usually trust his judgment…he has great taste in clothing and shoes.

Last week the long awaited package arrived, and filled of excitement, I ripped open the box. His mom lovingly wrapped each our things and put tags on everything (it was like Christmas all over again). The kids were in school at that time, so I just opened the stuff for Simmi and I. Her stuff was so cute, and mine…uh, well, I stood there smiling and trying to process what I had just received! The first thing I grabbed were two pairs of jeans. I unfold them and WOW! BELL BOTTOM JEANS! I don’t mind a boot cut, but I started to chuckle at these things. In my mind, I started to see myself as the late Latin Diva Selena. Damn the bottom of them were wide! No problem though, because I could just cut the bottoms and make carpi’s out of them. Then I take out the next thing; polyester beige grandma pants with a complete elastic waist! Oh my, now I’m laughing. There were also tee-shirts which were very nice but what took the cake for me was the underwear. I told him not to get anything too sexy since he was out with his mom, but that I wanted something nice. I didn’t pay attention to the size of these things because I was looking at the picture on the cover and wondered what the hell he was thinking even getting this kind! Here is a picture I took of the package:

I’m wondering if he even looked at the STYLE of underwear that he chose for me! I would never wear underwear like that. Maybe he was busy looking at the hot chick wearing those underwear since she is the only one in the universe that could pull off such feat and still look good!

Since I was really in need of underwear (you can never have too many) I decided to open up the package and see exactly what they looked like. I took a picture of that too, just so you could see just how huge these things are! He must have gotten the wrong size for me, because when I opened them up, I never bothered to see what size they were….UH…..size HUMONGOUS!!!!!!!!!!!

I put this fantastic pair of panties on top of Simmi’s stroller so you could see the sheer magnitude of these things! I can cover the stroller with them!

Just for shits and giggles I tried them on. Let-me-tell-you, that when I say these things were big on me, I mean HUGE. They literally came up past my ribcage right under my boobs! I even went over to the mirror just to see what I looked like in them. I nearly pissed in those things laughing so hard!

So it got me to wondering if he wasn’t really thinking about the chick on the cover of the underwear box, but instead if he was thinking of the two hot ladies that he told me he hooked up with in a moment of weakness, because to tell you the truth, he must have been thinking of them when he bought me those Big Girl Panties! Here he is with his “lady friends.” I was suspicious after seeing those panties, so I hired a private detective to see what Dom was up to. I got the picture on the right in the mail from the private eye.

Tonight Dom called me to tell me that he is coming home to see us in two weeks and that was such a great surprise. It has been almost two months since I last saw him. I have an awesome night planned for him when he gets here! Wine, candle light, figs and olives, and of course all I will be wearing are my new big girl panties!

Twenty-Five Random Things About Me

I was over at one of my favorite blogs The Melindaville Blog and I just got a kick out of her “Twenty-Five Random Things About Melindaville” that I wanted to do one too! I could relate to so many things she had on her list…so here’s mine:

1. When I was only 2 1/2 years old I ran away from home. I remember it very clearly. I was wearing a diaper, had shoes on already, and I was wearing a turtle neck shirt. That’s all. Anyway, I wanted to find my dad who I loved but no longer lived with me. (My parents divorced when I was about two years old). SO, do you remember way back in the day those zipper up round hat boxes with the single handle? Well, I unzipped it, stuck my teddy bear in there, a couple of diapers and other things I loved, and walked out the door, wearing only a diaper, shirt and shoes. I walked and walked and actually got onto the freeway (in Long Beach California!) and just kept walking. I was picked up by a woman and taken to the police station. I could have been kidnapped! I’m so glad she turned me in.
2. My mother was and still is till this day a heroin addict and prostitute.
3. I very rarely went to school before the age of 9, and then my dad won custody of my sister and I.
4. I am dyslexic
5. When I was 11 I refused to hold my dad’s hand or hug him in public because I feared others would think he was my boyfriend.
6. I once had a dream that I was in heaven talking with God, walking in a gorgeous garden, and all the sudden I saw myself sleeping as I hovered above and realized I wasn’t in my body. I was 13 at the time.
7. When I was six I stole money from my mother to get my ears pierced. I can’t believe they did it without a parent’s permission.
8. I read out loud semi-confidently when I was 25 years old.
9. I absolutely adore a plump, ripe, fresh fig.
10. I have a phone phobia (except with my kids and husband), and I always make the kids answer any calls.
11. I’m a documentary and movie whore….I will do anything for a good flick!
12. I’m a horrible speller.
13. I used to attempt to go to school from K-3rd grade, but would always get sent home either for having no shoes on, or lice in my hair. I exacted my revenge for not letting me participate by heading into the girls bathroom and making wet paper towel bubbles, filling them with soap and smacking them onto the ceiling of the bathroom.
14. When I was five, I stole a whole collection of barbies from a neighbor, because I was pissed off that her mother actually bought them for her AND played with her.
15. My mom taught me the fine art of switching price tags in a store, and I was well on my way to becoming a refined grifter if my dad never rescued me.
16. I always wanted to be a doctor and research scientist so I could come up with a way to hydrate and give proper nourishment to those who are suffering with malnutrition in other countries. Bloated bellies and shoving porridge down a persons throat doesn’t provide what they truly need to thrive.
17. Horses love me. I don’t know why, but they just usually come to me and start licking me and smelling me. Unfortunately I’m allergic to horses, but I just can’t stay away!
18. I get really distracted by people who blink too much.
19. I hate the sound of mixing tuna and mayonnaise
20. I love NPR news but I can’t stand Carl Kasell’s spit sounds when he talks.
21. Crickets find me fascinating. I don’t know why, but when I feel like I’m being watched, all I have to do is look down and there is a cricket looking up at me. They aren’t even afraid when I come near them. Mice do the same thing…I never understood the attraction.
22. I have a love affair with the rain. I love everything about a rainy day…the smell, the wind, the gray skies. There is something so special about how it falls and nourishes everything around us. It figures that I would move to the one place that has 300 days of no rain.
23. I am always fascinated by the uniqueness of people.
24. I don’t like to eat food off of a plate that isn’t white.
25. After my dad won custody of my sister and I, and we lived with him, it took a while to wipe the criminal out of my blood; while in plain clothing one day at the age of 10, I got a coffee can and solicited all the neighbors on the block for money for girl scouts. I have never been a girl scout. I thought it was a good idea at the time, and I collected quite a bit of money. My dad found out and literally kicked my butt all the way home after making me go to each house and return the money and apologize. That set me on the straight and narrow from then to this day.

Well, that’s my list. I just couldn’t resist.

Bald Beauty of the Day

Uncertainty Grips My Soul

I have been keeping busy over the last few days making changes to my blog, tending to family needs, and feeling crushed under weight of uncertainty. At times I feel as though I can not breathe, and I find my mind going blank as my soul screams out.

My husband dropped a bomb on me a few days ago and I have been filled with anger and disbelief; expressionless sorrow. He called to tell me that our landlady is going to sell the house that we just moved in to. What? How could this be? Before we signed the lease and moved in, we told her father (who has power of attorney on the property) that our intentions were to stay for a long time because we are not in a position to purchase a home. The house is in need of a lot of TLC, and we were prepared to do the work necessary to make it suitable for Simmi. About two weeks after we moved into the house, the landlady’s father had four massive strokes. He was our advocate, and the one who assured us that we would be able to live here for an extended period of time. Now he is fragile and weak, barely able to speak. He needs physical therapy for his hand skills as well. So what does all this have to do with the uncertainty that grips my soul? Well, the landlady wants to put the house on the market so she can purchase a house for her family. She needs the money from the sale of our home to make that possible. Where do we go now? We just moved in here! There is a part of me that completely understands that she needs to take care of her family, but there is another part of me that feels irrational and wants to make judgements. I want to sympathize with her dilemma, but I feel disappointed that she doesn’t understand what we have been through as a family. To be completely honest, I find it callous of her to call my husband, knowing full well our situation, and tell him that she is selling the house. Is there any compassion in this woman’s heart? We lost everything we owned and we are rebuilding our lives. I feel as though we are being kicked while we are down. My anger is palpable and always close to the surface, making me a walking time bomb for which I am ready to unleash the fury of my sharp tongue and irrational accusations. Her parents live right across the street from us, and yesterday her mom came over to ask if I had an item she could borrow to help her husband work on his hand skills. This is the sweetest and most adorable woman ever. I am really fond of her parents, but as her mother was walking over to my house, I felt this surge of fury well up inside of me. I tried to compose myself, but I know she could see in my eyes that something wasn’t right. I couldn’t even smile when she came to the door, and as she asked me for the item she wanted, I had a half cracked smile of disdain and just kept “um hmming” her. Then I let her know kindly that we didn’t have that particular object, but we used to before we lost everything.

I have all these thoughts that may not be far from the truth, and I hope they are totally wrong. My first thought after my husband broke the news to me was “We are being scammed!” If a landlord doesn’t have the money to make the necessary repairs to a rental they are paying a mortgage on, what is the best way to get it fixed up so you can get the damn thing off your hands by selling it? The answer is offer the renter a reduced rent and some money back each month for making the repairs. If she had no intention of selling right away, then we wouldn’t mind making those repairs. The investment for us is in the health and well being of our family. You can’t put a price tag on that, and there are things definitely more important than money! But why would I go ahead and settle my family into a home that we would have to move out of in six months? Does that make sense to anyone? It makes me rip roaring mad. It messes with the emotional well being of my family as well. It wasn’t enough for them to lose everything, and now we lose this too?

Are there other homes in my area that would be a good alternative to this house? Yes and no. There are homes in this area that are for rent that are WAY better than this house, but they have wall to wall carpeting. We can’t have carpeting because of Simmi’s skin problems. There are however certain types of area rugs that she doesn’t break out from. As I said earlier, we aren’t in a position to purchase a home, so how do we know we won’t be faced with the same situation with the next house we move in to? A friend of mine offered a suggestion to try and get an extended lease. I thought that was a great idea and in the back of my mind, at the same time I’m wondering what if the house were to go into foreclosure?

All of this is maddening at times. The uncertainty of what we should do next grips me and rips at me from the inside out. I need my children to feel secure and settled. Of course they are looking at this very differently…they see it as an opportunity to get the house of their dreams! They are not used to living in such a small house and they would love to see us get a bigger one that is new. Is that possible? Yes, but it comes at the cost of Simmi’s health.

Bald Beauty of the Day

My Husband Cyber Dissed Me!

I’m flustered! I’m aghast, perturbed and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Today, my incredibly sexy man calls me to say hi and see how my day is going and as we are talking, he says the funniest thing to me:

“One of my friends on Face Book loves your website.” At first, I thought “wow, how cool is that!” but then I couldn’t stop blinking and my mind went blank. Why, you may ask? Well, in that moment I realized my own husband dissed me on Face Book! I was silent for a second, and then for two, and he asked me what was wrong. I started grinning and said “What do you mean one of your friends on Face Book loves my website? How long have you been on Face Book?” He starts laughing and said that he told me all about how he signed up and found all his friends…UH, OH NO HE DIDN’T! OOOO! I told him that he said no such thing to me! He knows I’m on Face Book, so I asked him why he didn’t add me as a friend? Now he is laughing wildly, and me…I’m still grinning from ear to ear. I wanted to hear his defense.

Why didn’t he add me? So then I asked him this next question…”Did you add your mom to your friends list?” He paused for a moment and said “My mom is on Face Book?”  Oh, his brothers and ALL his friends from high school and college are on his list (even old girlfriends)…but not me or his mother? What’s up with that? Here is a screen shot after I went to Face Book to look him up:

Nervously he is still laughing and confessing that he has no idea how he could have let this slip by. I told him there was only one thing I could do about such a major slip…exact my revenge on him in my blog!

When I couldn’t hold my laugh in any longer, I let out the most sardonic laugh and he knew in that moment that I was actually going to write about this little “incident.” I razzed him for a while about it and he was relieved that I thought the whole thing was hilarious. I wanted him to stew for a bit, thinking that I was really upset about it, but he couldn’t see my face on the other end of the phone line! I couldn’t stop smiling. It was such an innocent mistake (or was it? hmm? LOL), but I wonder how many wives who’s husbands are away for long periods of time would look at it and wonder if he was trying to hook up with an old flame, or find a nice warm body in his area.

I trust him with all that is in me, and one thing that I know about relationships is that it is important for our mates to maintain good solid friendships. He actually has quite the social life out there in Maryland, going to concerts, hanging out with friends at the bar, meeting up with long time friends and I wouldn’t have it any other way. He was feeling guilty last week because I am all alone out here with no support system, friends or family. Then he asked if I had a problem with him going places and doing things with his friends, I said “Oh hell no, are you kidding me? Someone in this family has to go out and have some fun!”

I adore that man! YUM!

My Son turns 12 Today

Noah Michael was born to me on December 30, 1996. He was the long awaited and deeply anticipated man child that I had been longing for since I was very young. I know that sounds a bit strange, but some little girls dream of someday having a family. My youngest daughter does it! She has already planned out her life (which kind of changes each year…thank god) and she told me what kind of life she wants and how many children she will share her life with. I always dreamed of having a son, and I mean literally dream about it. I had a dream twice that I had a son named Andrew. Then, later on in my life I had a nightmarish dream I had a grown son named Kevin and we were in some sort of war with bombs going off all over the place! I walk and talk in my sleep (alot!), so as I was knee deep in that dream, I was also acting it out! It was so realistic…I could hear the bombs being fired, the house was transformed into a bunker, and I am searching through my own house (sometimes on my hands and knees) for my son. (Side note: when I walk and talk in my sleep, I usually don’t remember it, but if I am awakened mid-dream, I remember the whole thing vividly) Where was I? Oh yeah…SO after searching through my house in the dark for my son Kevin, I make my way up to my room, which in my dream looks nothing like my room, and there laying in the bed is a man sleeping. Remember! I’m still asleep! I see this man laying in the bed (Noah’s father) and I rush into the room and I jump right on top of the man, grab him by the balls and demand to know what the hell he did with my son Kevin! Of course Noah’s father was startled by the fact that I just jumped on him, and grabbed him by the balls…what he said to me in that moment shook me from my dream mid-bombs blasting and gunshots being fired. He said, “Who’s Kevin?” Oh my God! I woke up in that moment and remembered the whole thing so clearly. I sat there laughing, but I don’t think Noah’s dad thought it was very funny!

As I was pondering what I was going to share about having a son, that story came to mind and I had to reflect on why that dream is so significant to me right now. I believe that mothers and sons share a unique bond that is some how different than what we share with our daughters. It isn’t a deeper bond or even a special bond…it’s unique. With my girls, if they got hurt I was always in control of my emotions and would tend to their needs if they were seriously injured. It was like breathing…easy and natural. They could be spurting blood out of their neck and I would be very calm. But my son on the other hand is a different story! If he fell, cut himself, passed out, banged his head, skinned his knee or anything else no matter how large or small, I was about to have a nervous break down. I don’t have a clue why his little presence would evoke such emotion in me. I would literally hold my breath if something happened to him. In those moments all rational thoughts fly right out the window and I turn into this neurotic weirdo.

When he was born I fell madly in love. My feelings have not changed about him in the 12 years I have had the pleasure of knowing him. He is kind and loving, soft and sweet. Yeah, I’m getting all gushy and mushy right now, and maybe even a little teary eyed, but I am so proud of who he is and who he is growing up to be. Noah is filled with compassion and mercy and always considers the feelings of others. He will often times even put the needs of others before his own. His heart is so big and beautiful and his affection towards me never wanes. He is protective over his older sister Shoshannah, and he watches over little Simmi like a treasure. He is even protective of me. When we are out somewhere and he notices that men are ogling me or flirting he gets so pissed! Being bald evokes some very interesting responses from men, I must say. Noah sees it all the time if we are out somewhere, and it makes him furious that other men are smiling and giving me “that look.” Yes, he is very keen on “the look” and very perceptive. He’ll say to me as we leave a place, “Why do men always think you are hot? I hate that! You are my mom and they don’t even care that we are right here with you!” He’s right! LOL

I love him for all that he is. He is a writer as well! I posted a piece he wrote called “The Grapefruit” because I loved how he described the full bodied experience of eating a Ruby Red.

What do I do as he grows and wants to have a girlfriend? Geez, I have a hard time with that one! Whenever he brings up the subject of having a girlfriend I feel like I can’t breathe and I turn into this neurotic freako. What’s wrong with me? I told him very clearly and emphatically that he was NOT allowed to date until after he was married. The first time I told him that, he actually looked at me like he believed me! God if only I could keep that one going. Hey, there are ways that he can date AFTER he is married…I could join an ultra-orthodox Jewish community and decide to have an arranged marriage with a nice virginal Jewish girl from France! Or I could become Chinese and find a matchmaker. Oooo, then there are those mail order Russian or Filipino brides! That would work right? If I start right now, I KNOW that there is bound to be a baby girl that I could get him hitched to…now, now, don’t go down that road! Hear me out on this one…if I get a new born baby girl and she is promised to him, then I have a good 21 more years of blissful mother and son-ness, right? That would TOTALLY WORK! It means that I wouldn’t have to worry about the whole dating thing until he was married off at 32 years old. I can totally dig that.

By the way, I hope you know that I am only kidding about becoming Chinese! I don’t think that is possible. Right about now you must think I am the strangest mother on the planet; you might be right! I am writing this at 12:47am and he will be reading it most likely at about 10:00am, and this whole post is for him! I am razzing him on his 12th birthday.

Noah my boy, I love you more with each passing day. I love your smile, your warmth and your awesomely (I think I just made up a word…is “awesomely” a real word?) warped sense of humor. I know that you will appreciate this post, because your mama is totally nuts! I hope I made you smile this morning of your 12th birthday. You are my treasure, my joy, and my favorite son! You are unique, talented, fun, smart and hilarious when you try to “take your mama down” showing how strong you are! You are strong in so many ways and I admire you. I’m proud to be your mother.

Happy Birthday!

Noah was attacked by a monstrous parrot while we were at the Baltimore Aquarium. They warned us not to get to close to the damn thing, but he just had to pet it. It almost ate him alive!

Is he the cutest thing or what?

The picture on the right was taken when Noah was only four years old. As you can see, he is wearing his super-duper orange floaties! Now, that would be fine if he was at the beach, but he is in a sand box playing. He loved his floaties, but I wonder if he thought he was gonna drowned in the sand? humm? I guess you can never be too safe!