holidaze

Wow, I can't believe we are 5 days away from Christmas! Talk about a blur of a month! Unable to motivate myself to the treadmill this morning I have plunked down on this lovely sofa with my giant cup of coffee. Cozy in my ugly robe I decided this was way more conducive to my lazy mood than running and gasping for air trying to fight off last night's 2nd Mexican feast of the week. The holidays have kicked my ass this year. I feel like I haven't sat down since mid-November. After a whirlwind of a Black Friday, big college football game and dinner with friends, the Christmas season had officially begun. Not only is my store ablaze with Christmas finery, but my home as well. Not only do we have Christmas trees in every size, shape, age, and color, but glowing gnomes and Santas as well. Big bulb lights around the door, white twinkle lights adorned with cotton balls to imitate glowy snow, and of course trees that light up surrounded by herds of white plastic deer. This, I told myself, was taking it "easy" this year. Yeah right. Trays and trays of chocolate chip cookies were baked than hidden with warning notes, to no avail. My two cookie monsters made light work of those. Countless bottles of wine and beer opened for the countless events held in my little city. Christmas parade, tree lighting ceremony, Christmas open house night, marauding carolers crowding my tiny store. Events geared to bring out the locals to shop local. Again, a whirlwind of holiday activity that left my heart tickled and my body exhausted. Along with the holiday business blur came my social engagements.A fresh hair cut and fake eyelashes had me ready for nights out on the town. More drinks and food and friends. Don't get me wrong, I am NOT complaining. I LOVE all this activity, but my stomach is ready for a little plop plop fizz fizz. So here we are, final stretch. Tonight I get a rare night out with my betrothed. Christmas shopping for our little love than dinner with my man. We are like kids ourselves when choosing the myriad of gifts with which to spoil him rotten. Oh Thomas the train, you are taking over my living room along with the fleet of firetrucks and service vehicles. After tonight there is still more shopping due to my procrastination, more dinners with friends, and more baking to do because you know Santa needs his cookies too. All the socializing and shopping and decorating may seem tiring and endless, but this is my FAVORITE holiday, and well, I live for this shit! If that dreadful Mayan calender proves wrong, I can rest in January, but for now, finally amped up on black coffee, it's time to go to work. The treadmill, well, later. Good morning world.

stuffed

Well here I sit molded to the sofa, already in my pjs by 6:30 and coughing up my lungs. After a whirlwind of a week of work and holiday festivities I am left with this lovely cold and the muffin top threatening to creep over my bottoms. Snuggled in next to my husband and his neverending obsession with those angry birds, Mickey Mouse Club on the tv and my little love eating his dinner, "us a family" to quote my 4 year old. That's right my dear, us a family. Thanksgiving is one of those holidays where even though the thanks is in the title we still have to remind ourselves why we aren't working and are about to shove platterfuls of food in our faces. Thankful is what we are, what we need to remember. Thankful for our health, home, family, football and of course the turkey. Oh sure Columbus and the pilgrims had something to do with all this, but after years of hearing about the rape and pillage of the new world upon landing, I've put the history on the back burner and just am thankful for the life I have been given. Oh I know I can gripe with the best of them, I mean who doesn't, but when you get right down to brass tacks, it ain't all so bad. My leaky old house, my crazy business, my wild child, my husband's career, all just reasons to appreciate what we have even more.  The first half of Thanksgiving was spent in a nauseous haze trying to get over this cold. After my gingerale I was up and cooking my mac and cheese and famous cranberry sauce. Soon after work demanded a small portion of my time. Upon rummaging through a box of old Christmas lights my dad had passed on to me I was struck by one of the old price tags of all things. As the montage of 1980's memories played through my head I suddenly found myself sobbing in my attic. Divorce is never easy on any family and having gone through my parents in my thirties, I feel it's even harder as an adult. Now as these memories of my mom and dad, my sister and I played on in my mind I was struck with that melancholy of a life lost. Now being in the business I am of basically selling memories, I am NOT one to hold on to the past. To me the past is money which supports my family. This sudden rush of emotion was surprising to me. I didn't feel so much sad as reflective. Taking after my mother I am helpless with emotion and it always pours out my eyeballs. Drives me nuts. This was different. This time I welcomed the onslaught of emotion. It was nice to think of the four of us before it all went down. I hadn't looked at us as a family in a long time. Joining my husband's family filled that void left after the divorce, but now reminiscing in my attic reminded me from whence I came. My dad running behind my training wheel-less bike, my mom taking me to get my ears pierced, sleeping in my sister's bed every Christmas eve, just a few sweet thoughts that filled my crazy brain and made me realize just how thankful I was for the time we had together. Moving on to my mother-in-law's for the feast and family frenzy I was again struck with memories,this time of my father-in-law at the table. My mother-in-law extremely subdued this year was feeling the same vibe. Upon returning home and finding ourselves on the couch contemplating thirds, I suddenly realized just how stuffed I was. Stuffed full of good memories of my favorite people in different stages of my life. No matter where we all are at any given moment, us still a family. Goodnight world.

old house

"What's wrong with your sink?" asked my mother-in-law as she poured out the dregs of her coffee. If only I had an answer. What's wrong with my sink? Well probably the same thing that was wrong with our toilet and bathroom sink and roof and front steps etc. Old house. Ah yes, home ownership, what a grand concept. Yes, owning a home is better than renting, so they tell you. It's an investment others say, well maybe when one was actually able to sell their home and make a little profit. Now owning a home just seems like another job and I'll tell ya, I've had plenty of those, jobs that is. Buying your first home, never a prouder moment. Realizing that all the important stuff was already rigged by the previous owners, irritating. The cheap shower install that covered up the bathroom window, nice. The leak in the pipe that became a torrential downpour of, how do I put this eloquently, pisswater all over our kitchen counter, again, nice. The unintentional skylights in our garage roof while I was pregnant, lovely. The faux marble formica and "oak" laminate bathroom vanity that I lived with until our more recent bathroom redo. Ugh, the list goes on. So far in the oh, 9 years we've lived in this house we added a new furnace to replace the harvest gold monstrosity. New garage roof as well as one for the house. Luckily that one was due to hail damage and came courtesy of the insurance company. Eighteen hundred dollars of bathroom plumbing to fix those issues only to be left with a running toilet that hissed at us day after day only to find out it was a "flapper" causing the problem. Thanks dad for fixing that one. The bathroom renovation that lasted the summer I was pregnant. Worrying and barking orders at my poor husband and father as they tried to turn the 1980's country look into my white subway tile dream before the baby arrived. We also added a low deck, stone courtyard, pergola and pond to the back yard as well as extensive perrenials to the front. So nice that the roofers destroyed part of that. Oh big sigh. Now the city where I reside has a big issue with some peeling paint trim and unpainted front steps. We have lined up the painter, agreed to the estimate yet somehow we are not moving fast enough for these folks. After that is finished, we redo the kitchen because the lovely bathroom leak has caused my old cabinets to warp a bit along with the slightly crumbling wall made soft by my now dead 200 lb dog's slobbery splashy water drinking. Not to mention the myriad of interior paint colors and 4 different dining room tables until I found just the right one. Lord, I think I may have to yoga breathe as I write this, so tense that it makes me. Thankfully I love my home. Despite it's issues this home has been good to us. I have been able to use what I know to make it cute and charming and this is where we brought home our son.  Painting the exterior and one more major redo this spring to bring my kitchen into the 21st century and than the For Sale sign goes up. It's a cruel joke, home ownership. You work hard to turn your house into a home and than you sell it. Now, where is that plunger? Good night world.

powerless

Wow, what a week! Nothing like a hurricane to take your mind off your troubles and the election. I guess I should say, add to your troubles considering the amount of people without power. A power outage is always kind of fun even romantic in the beginning. You build a fire, you play games, get close with your spouse, toast marshmallows or hot dogs. You know, do what families do when they aren't working or going to the grocery store every 5 seconds. Sitting in front of the neverending fire, holding my son while he fell asleep in my arms, I was just where I wanted to be. Three nights of that and my son's hair looked like a rat's nest by the fourth day causing me to look at him and wonder when he last had a bath. By that fourth day after dropping him at school again, still a dirtball, I was ready to fly the coop. My husband and I were so whacked out by the power outage, forgetting what day it was, we needed to come out of our hermit shelter and face our populace. One last fire, one last cup of coffee and we were off! Breakfast and visiting friends and family had us feeling like our old selves. Dinner out had me feeling my muffin top and thinking about that damn treadmill, so silent that it was. Upon coming home, we were greeted by the orange glow of my electric spider web, left on before it all went off. Ahh, cable tv, internet, HEAT. We are one spoiled population, let me tell you. So many people dealing with so much less and we worry about charging our phones. Well, we are a product of our environment, powerless. Now on the eve of this election I can't help but feel that way, knowing how much is at stake in this election. I know my husband and I will be voting first thing in the morning, even making a date out of it, but at the moment I just worry. I am doing my usual escapism today, cleaning, cooking, etc., but I worry and I pray. I pray for a better, nicer country, I pray for stability, and most of all I pray for our health and happiness. The last four years have been rough, new child, economic depression, job searches. Powerless, nothing we could do but let it ride. Waiting for progress to reach you is frustrating at best. I am hopeful and I never give up. I believe we can move forward and there is power waiting at the end of another 4 years. I believe that all my rights as a woman will not be jeopardized. I believe my husband will find that elusive full-time job in education and that my business will persevere.  For tonight I will think about our future knowing that in the morning I will be casting my vote with the rest of you. This one simple act of DOING SOMETHING gives us the power. Don't vote and you remain nothing but powerless. Good night world.

election

Well, here we go. I don't know what on earth is posessing me to touch this subject, but coming into the home stretch, I am unable to let it pass. I never thought I would write about sports either, but 2 posts ago proved me wrong. Ok. I am not writing this to sway your decision. I am not writing this to make my decision known, but I think if you've kept up with me in my literary adventure you may have an inkling anyway. I am writing because that is what I do(now). Writing has become my therapy and feeling like I do today, I need it. As mentioned in my previous post, election years wreak havoc on retail. This is now the fourth election my business will be surviving long after whomever is elected is gone. After an extremely dismal weekend at the shop, my spirits have been lower than low. I really hate to equate my self-worth with how much income I bring in, but when it's your own business, everything gets taken personally. Let me just say that my income is used to better my family and my business. My self-worth has more to do with how well I can provide for them than my own financial gain.  My husband says this lull in sales will pass. I know he's right. I know I am not the only one trying to get this crap over with so we can return to some semblance of normalcy. Financial stability is not the only thing I wish back to normal.  I wish people would not use this election and its candidates as fuel for hatred and intolerance. I feel I am constantly being bombarded by negativity on all fronts. Our lives and relationships have been divided.  Black vs. white, gay vs. straight, rich vs. poor, patriot vs. non-patriot, Christian vs. non-Christian, even man vs woman. I just can't take it anymore. This country has become so fueled by hatred one can feel it around every corner. Do I even need to bring up that dreaded chicken fast-food place. Freedom of speech aside, I have never been so embarrassed to be a citizen of this country as I was when I watched that hate-filled debacle. Grown men and women acting like jackasses just because they don't like a person's choice of partner. Intolerance on any level is not acceptable in my world. Like it or not we are all in this together and to quote one of our illustrious founders,"All men are created equal". That in itself should just say it all. We may not like our neighbor, we may not like a person's opinions, partner or even social status, but does that give each and everyone of us a RIGHT to tell them not to BE that way.Heck, I really wish my neighbor would get a job and stop peeing off his balcony, but that's his choice, not mine. Well I certainly didn't mean to get back on my cyber soap box, but enough is enough. I am tired of feeling like we have transported back to the sixties what with the war, the election, women's rights, even the whole organic/green movement. What's next race riots? Are we going to be so angry if our current president stays in office that we'll "take it to the streets". Come on people now, smile on each other. This hate-filled feudal system we live in now has to stop. We the people have to make the change. It may start with a vote or it may start with just one kind gesture, but the hatred will be our undoing if allowed to continue. I may sound preachy, even liberal and idealistic, but again as stated before, it's my blog and I'll say what I want to. Everybody get together, try to love one another...right now. Good night world.

home

Falling temps, grinning jack-o-lanterns, and a pending BIG election all reminding me we're in October. Not to mention falling sales as everyone hunkers down waiting for the big day and the big news. Oh well, I've been through this before and I'll get through it again. In retail October is always an el sucko month made worse by the looming election. In order to not let this get the best of me I am adapting a new no worry attitude, working harder, and reveling in the warm spookiness of my home. Now as you all know, Christmas is my thing. Bedecked and bedazzled halls in glittery vintage splendor make me happy. My husband, well, no. Aha, but there is a new ally bouncing around my house. My four year old is enchanted by all things holiday whether it be Christmas, Easter or Halloween. Halloween has always been my mother's favorite probably because her birthday is smack dab in the middle of the merriment. She really loves her birthday. Each year she precariously perches on her rooftop in order to display her leering electric pumpkins. Crazy you say? Normal I say. Guess this apple didn't fall too far from the tree. I have deemed this the 31 days of Halloween. Each day Sully and I have a new decoration, craft or treat to work on. Dollar store gravestones in the front AND back yard. Glittered skulls and bony torsos chill on the porch lit by the Christmas light spider web. A trip to the store's basement unearthed a bevy of orange pillar candles scored at an estate sale along with the vintage tissue balls hanging in the windows. My vintage blow-mold light-up owl makes me grin.  Black cats and bloody handprints finish off the evil aesthetic. Thankfully my husband has learned to just smile and ignore, but I really think he enjoys the warm orange glowiness of it all. Settling in to this rainy month has also prompted the urge to cook those perfect autumn meals. Homemade bread, baked pastas, chicken-pumpkin chili(that was a good one)beef stew, all seasonally satisfying. One particular dreary cold day had us all in front of the fireplace. Refusing to turn the furnace on we succumbed to our pioneer urgings. Bundled in my afghan ALL DAY, I sat like a lump on the sofa reading my suspense novel. Refusing to move until my husband returned with smore makings I was suddenly re-energized. Nothing tickles a four year old more than sticking something into a roaring fire. With all the goings on in our fair city, no amount of friends or festivals could tear me away from my two men. Domesticity may sound boring to some, but as the wind blows and the rain pelts the windows, my heart is where my home is. Goodnight world.

football

Now this is one topic I never in my life thought I would be writing about. Growing up in the "Steel City" one could never get enough of the Pittsburgh Steelers. My dad would spend every Sunday yelling and swearing at the television. You couldn't pass through a mall without being besieged by Terrible Towel kiosks. My mother, sister, and I having zero interest in all things sports related would jump out of our skins everytime my dad would yell , so accustomed to his ususal quiet nature. Mild-mannered by day, my father would develop a mouth like a truck driver when it came to the "Stillers". Now, being an adult in a city with the world's WORST football team, I find myself swearing out of frustration. One really has to admire the tenacity of this town's fans. Forever disappointed week after week, they cling to any small victory feverishly proclaiming this is gonna be the year! Not likely. Sorry Brown's fans, but I get very aggravated watching you deflate time and again shrugging off another loss. I don't get it! It's one thing to watch a winning team, the excitement so infectious it's hard to stay planted in your butt-shaped couch indentation. I know, I know, it's the whole our city, our team mentality, but come on, haven't we learned this lesson by now? Oh, I am so going to catch Hell for this, but stay with me a moment, there is a point to this rant. Last year I had my first taste of college football. All I can say is WOW! Being in that stadium, cheering for my nephew among the fans, feeling that excitement was, well, WOW! I love the sheer innocence of these boys. I love that they're not tainted by money, fame, and women. Ok, yes, they get the fame and the chicks and money from the school, but it's just different. Watching my nephew sack and tackle, hair flying, was amazing. I was so proud. To just have that instinct, I would probably be running the wrong way. That is if I were male and 20 years younger. This past weekend I had the opportunity to watch his brother lead his team. Sadly it was a loss, but a good game none-the-less. The first half dragged along as if they were running through muck, hungover. The second half as the game heated up, one could feel that familiar electricity in the air. Now you have to understand, for me to even say "second half" is a strange surreality for me and anyone that knows me. This is my testament to how much I have fallen for this game. As I watched my nephew leap in the air and score his second touchdown of the game, I again felt my heart burst with pride for this boy I have watched grow up and become a man. Sitting in those stands, surrounded by family, life was good. So yes, I get it, this crazy violent game and the fans who come week after week to watch their team and soak up that testosterone driven energy. Now you won't find me analyzing and discussing stats and trades and players, but you bet your ass I will be yelling and swearing like the best of them come November when I get my next "fix". Until than I will be content to watch their games on ESPN in the warmth of my living room while my husband cringes at the string of expletives erupting from my mouth. Like father like daughter. Goodnight world.

bored

Today a friend posted that she was bored with the crappy day, she was too broke to go shopping, and it was too early to start drinking, but at least she had bacon. Well after laughing, I thought, way to turn lemons into lemonade. It is that kind of positive attitude one sometimes needs to get through a boring, dreary, rainy, run-of-the-mill day. Today I had big intentions for my time alone in the shop. After having coffee and watching the weather, I realized those big intentions weren't happening. Completely disgruntled with my lack of business which lead to my lack of enthusiasm for my projects, I planted my derriere on my sold vintage sofa and did nothing. All day I had this anticipatory feeling, like waiting for company to arrive, but to no avail. There I sat and there I waited. Bored, bored, bored. I don't do bored well, so used to always being busy. I was out of paint so nothing got painted. I was out of money so no new stock came in. By the end of the day I was completely out of patience. Even my fresh-baked zucchini bread couldn't comfort my bleak mood. Upon coming home to dishes in the sink and garbage not put out didn't help my situation either. This of course lead to words with my husband who truly did not deserve my wrath. On top of that, my crappy contact feels like glass in my eye and by 5:00 I was ready to scream. Even my treadmill made me angry, staring at me the way it does. Any positive thoughts about that lemonade went right out the door. Ahhh, big sigh. Of course as I always say when these insignificant, trivial matters clutter my brain and my day, there are some that have it worse. I could be homeless or without my family or have a lot of credit card debt. I suppose we complain to feel better about ourselves without realizing how stupid our complaints sound in the grand scheme of things. I built this little blog of mine based on my internal struggles with our world. There are just some days where life is not all hearts and unicorns and today is one of them. Tomorrow will be better. Thursday I get to shop for the store and Friday I have lovely dinner plans. Until than I will pour a glass of wine and cook up my bacon. Good night world.

first day

Well here we go again, the ringing of the bell, the pledge of allegiance, and freshly polished floors. If you close your eyes you can almost smell the ink from fresh mimeographs. The first day of school. The day parents wait for all through August. The day parents can return their wild ones to that sacred place that allows us our sanity nine months of the year. They may go willingly or kicking and screaming, but no holds barred, they are returning! Yesterday marked the first day of my child's second year of pre-school. This year he goes all day!! Hooray, hooray! Well as this new tradition would have it, my husband and I did the usual lugging of school supplies, lunch, rest-time mat, blankie, backpack, oh, and child. Finally situated with last year's returning friends, we kissed him good-bye and made a mad dash for the door. As luck would have it, again, this mom trying my best to be brave, broke down in tears the minute we left the classroom. I have come to the conclusion that this will just be my habit. I am no good at these "monumental" occasions. Taking deep breaths never helps only postponing the eventual emotional release. I hate this hair trigger crying. My husband thinks it's sweet, I just find it annoying. If I'm this much of a mess now, Lord, wait until he goes off to college. Determined to enjoy our free time together my husband and I went off to lunch and shop. Being an oppressively humid gray day it did not help deter my worries. Putting on a brave face through each store and laughing through lunch only had me missing my little one more. Finally, three o'clock, time to pick him up! As we again made our way through the confusing mess of cars we saw his class venture from the building. Poking his head out the window my husband was able to see our child emerge through the crowd. Catching sight of his father's wild curls and smiling face, our child lit up like Christmas and made a mad  dash for our car. Wrapping my arms around his little body in welcome I again felt that lump in my throat. So happy to have him safe and sweet in my grasp, I didn't care who saw me cry. This is my son, my husband and together we are family. Good morning world.

forty two

Well, it happens to the best of us, aging. Unable to stop life's natural course of action, I now find myself middle-aged. WTF! How did I end up here? When I was a kid growing up in the seventies and eighties middle-aged seemed so old. Made-for-t.v. movies were constantly about mid-life crisis and cheating spouses having said mid-life crisis. My parents turning 40 was a big deal. I remember painting a huge sign that hung from the front porch to mark the occasion. My dad and his old school friends smoking cigars outside and talking 40 year old guy talk, reminiscing about their neighborhood days. Now it is my turn, except that I already passed the 40 year old mark. Now I am 42. Gross. No reason to celebrate much for that occasion. I know, I know, I love birthdays. Well, not this one. This age just seems so common, so old, so mid-life crisis. In fact now that I've hit the forties, I don't feel such a need to be festive for my big days. Forty two is a reminder that the crease between my eyebrows is only getting deeper, along with those "smile lines" around my mouth and oh, what is this pouty stuff by my chin. Shit. Another thing I've been hearing a lot of is peri-menopausal. Well that's it! We can stop right there! I may be 42, but I'll be damned if I'm even going to start thinking about that! Hot flashes, hormone loss, forget it! Mother Nature's cruel torture will just have to be the bridge that I cross when that time comes. I refuse to look at myself as old, aging, or God forbid, peri-menopausal! Yuck! I believe and always have that aging is a natural process which you can welcome and go about it gracefully or you can fight with plastic surgery and too-tight clothing like an O.C. housewife. I intend to borrow from both sides. I have no quarrel with a little botox or restylane to keep lines intact. I do however have a big huge problem with extensive surgery that leaves your face looking like it got stuck in a wind storm. Lips overinflated and eyes pulled back so tight you wonder how one can even see. I also intend to always dress young, not boobs hanging out of my shirt young, just fun clothing like my favorite aqua rubber boots and my Gap jeans. I will never give up my giant hoop earrings or my endless supply of flip-flops. I have however, sadly bid adieu to most of my platform heels since pregnancy wrecked the balls of my feet. Notice though I said, most of my platform heels. There is always at least one pair of shoes that a girl will suffer for because they just look FAB! Another aggravating factor about aging is gray hair. My mother accepted this fate and never colored her beautiful silver, choosing to wear it long and sleek. This will not be me. I am a blonde and there will not be one gray hair on my head until the fat lady sings. My love affair with desserts has also sadly ended. Nothing will kill a 42 year old figure quicker than a cookie! Now aging is not all bad, despite the physical demise and such. Aging allows one to relax just a bit and know that life does take care of itself. Aging allows one to grow wiser, become more secure. When I think about being an insecure teen, following everyone else's example, I hardly recognize myself. Aging has allowed me to lead, to have a voice, and to not be afraid. It is with this wisdom that I will continue to fight this annoying aging battle. I WILL still wear my bikini if it looks good. I will still sunbleach my hair, only wearing it a bit longer to hide that crease. I will suffer through giant heels and running extra miles to rid myself of that fantastic cookie. I will continue to welcome loud music, dancing, and occasional late nights. What I won't do is call myself old or middle-aged. Older, yes. Wiser, I hope so. Dead, not even. Good morning world.

child's play

Seriously stressed about my store rent, I was in definite need of some escapism. Per the advice of my oh-so-wise husband, I took the day with my son and went exploring. Calling up an old friend, we met at a little slice of woods right in the neighboring city in order to set free our children. My three year old has had some excessive pent-up energy lately and has succeeded in driving my husband and I a bit batty. A run through the woods and some stone throwing along with creek exploring followed by the playground was just what this mom needed! After we trudged down the hill to the shallow quarry it was not long before all 3 kids had found or fallen their way into the water. A while later we were searching for new ground following the creek to its sudden end only to be surprised by a small school of fish. It's so lovely to watch kids be enchanted by the smallest detail. Jumping stepping stones and climbing that hill while holding tiny hands was instantly calming. I felt the tension slip from my shoulders and was able to enjoy the time spent with these three beauties and my old friend. At the playground games of tag and more endless climbing left these two parents on the bench. After 3 hours we finally dragged our tired and soggy kids to the car with promises of future play dates. If all play dates are as good as this one than count me in! Child's play is not just for kids. Good night world.

beached

Well here I sit, once again hopped up on black coffee. Noon on a Monday. Trying to start my day, finally, I am stuck on this stool at my counter dreaming of my lovely oceanside vacation. A week spent at the beach is healing to the soul and this past week was no exception. I was able(for a short time at least) to be lulled by the Atlantic's roar as it crashed onto the beach, cicadas buzzing in the background while gulls screeched above. Daytime brought blue skies, soaring temps, and sand so hot you felt the bottoms of your feet burning. Evening brought cool, cool ocean breezes and a few storms that had me wondering if the ominous billowing cloud was really just that or some alien ship hovering. Halfway into our week the most beautiful pinky orange full moon appeared to light the beach while falling stars slipped silently into the water. The nicest thing about a beach vacation is my ability to sleep like the dead. Barely able to keep my eyes open past ten o'clock I would slide under the covers, open my giant beach read, and promptly fall asleep. My husband the night wanderer would slip in ninja-like to close my book, remove my glasses, and turn off the light. Upon waking I would notice these items stacked neatly on the nightstand with no cognizant memory of how they got there. Friends and family added a new twist on an old theme this year. "Unkin" Rob drove up from the gulf coast only to be surprised by his best friend driving down from Virginia Beach. Cocktails flowed the minute we had the key to the cottage in hand. An off color remark to a pregnant bride about a shot gun wedding really set the stage for our entertainment. Our friend's comment now permanently burned into our beach memories. My son, not to be overlooked,  relished the attention from mom, dad, and visitors. Proudly showing off his new police kit, we were all put under arrest numerous times. Watching him scream with delight while my husband raced down the beach towing him on a boogie board made my heart fill with joy. The literary gem Walter the Farting Dog would end my son's days with sweet dreams of gas-bloated canines. One rainy day brought out the puzzles and ice cream. On the heels of our friend's departure brought the arrival of my mother-in-law. Filling her cup with vodka and ice and settling into a beach chair had her sighing with contentment. My dear dear "Unkin " Rob left us on Thursday which left me in a funk for most of the day. I have never been ok with my friends moving away, so growing accustomed to their presence in my day to day. Trying all day not to cry left me bawling like a baby by dinner. Such is life. After leaving grammy on the miniscule airport tarmac we wrapped up the week with just our little family. Wave diving, boogie boarding, and a shrimp dinner rounded out our last day. Kissing my husband under the full moon later that night left me feeling grateful and blessed for our crazy life. Goodnight moon, good-bye beach and Happy One Year Anniversary to my little blog. Good afternoon world.

stress

Stress is not a word that should even be associated with summer! Happily drifting along in our post restaurant haze, I have finally hit that moment where everything slows down from life to work and now as I need to keep the momentum going I am stuck. This is causing me stress. The kind of stress that makes me take big gulps of air just to make sure I can still breathe. This stress is suffocating me like the deep southern heat in the summertime. A constant reminder that things aren't just so. This is the dangerous kind that can lead to slight or even deep depression on my part. Being it summer, I am trying to drag myself out of this worry vortex by drenching myself in the pool with my son. Unable to make myself exercise this will have to do. Social commitments are not big on my list right now. I am happy to hide away at home or said pool and try not to talk to anyone. It is actually this kind of mind frame that started me on this writing venture so I suppose there ARE up sides. My stress and worry are of course the usual suspects. Store, financial obligations, nothing new. I don't do well when things slow down or as I stated before, get stuck. I feel perpetually bogged down in this quagmire I have created. This leads to panic. I have been in this situation many times before and God knows I should remember that everything always works out one way or the other, but it always feels like a long time coming. Slowly slogging through the last 2 weeks has made me as nervous as a cat on water. I am snappy or some may say bitchy depending on the perspective. I start to feel that sensation to flee my life and leave the worry behind, but that doesn't jive, I'd be lost without my little family. Besides, I already tried that tactic last year and my husband wasn't buying it. Really, I thought buying the vintage RV and selling fish tacos on some beach was a good idea.  The only solution to what ails me is to just hunker down, suck it up and keep working. Work heals the soul, makes you forget just what was so bad in the first place. I promise myself I will not let this stress best me. I am self-soothing by baking fresh blueberry muffins, eating homemade pizza, and waking at the crack of dawn for yet another estate sale adventure with my favorite bitch. If this doesn't work, I might just be having that traveling fish taco conversation with hubby again. Charlie, see you in the morn! Goodnight world.

lake girl

As previously mentioned I am something of a water person. I live for summer and immersing myself in all things aquatic. Growing up in the steel city, I was surrounded by 3 dirty rivers so our only real swimming hole was the public pool. Don't get me wrong, our public pool was the size of a football field with three diving boards and skyscraper height slides. Every summer my mother would laboriously sew on the shiny numbered metal tags that we would flash upon entry. Proudly holding up our bathing suit straps with our crooked passes we would troop in toting our bags, floats, towels, and blankets to find our perfect spot on the concrete. Snack time brought out the baggies filled with whatever was in the cabinet, eating under towels so as not to alert surly teenage lifeguards of our "illegal" behavior. I used to love lying under the hot sun with my Nancy Drew and listen to my mother gossip with the other neighborhood moms. My mother could never swim preferring instead to "backstroke" while holding her head above the 3 feet of water so as not to wet her hair. She would watch my sister and I jump off diving boards while furiously chewing her nails. Ahh, youth, full days spent lounging in the warm weather. Who am I kidding? I still do that now. Now I get to take mine. Lately though I've been feeling a pull towards our lovely Lake Erie. I don't know if it's because too many desserts are making me feel less than worthy of that bikini or if its just the fact that I can let my little one run free. No surly lifeguards at this beach, just driftwood, dead fish, and sand. Yeah, yeah, dead fish, I know, but you get used to it. Lying on my back, staring at the trees and cliffs, listening to the water, I almost feel like I'm on an exotic vacation in, well, Maine. The water can be THAT cold. The waves can be THAT rough. My mother-in-law constantly worries about rip tides and chemical overflows and cringes everytime I take her precious grandson to my beloved lake. Honestly, I feel the cold water is healing to mind and body. Who knows, maybe I'll end up with some crazy disease, but to me the lake is sacred. I can go and let Sully wander, pick up beach glass, gather rocks, and when he's ready, run into the water holding tightly to his little paw. There are also days where the water is warm and smooth as glass. That's when I can float away on a raft and just be. That's also when you can see the bottom, best left undiscovered for now. For now I will plant my feet on the mossy rock and dive into the wave because this lake girl is home. Goodnight world.

summer!

Yes, my friends it has been a little while, but you know how life goes. Today our trip to the park had us walking by the community pool and to my surprise and absolute delight, it is FINALLY filled!! This can only mean one thing, SUMMER!! Seeing that I spend the majority of summer at said pool I was extremely excited to see bright blue rather than a big cement hole in the ground. Seeing that pool filled conjures up visions of hot days, hot dogs, smell of suntan lotion, flip flops, and of course cool, cool water. I swear I was a mermaid in a former life. I can never get enough water whether it be pool, lake, ocean or even my own shower. Thankfully I have passed this on to my son who drives my husband batty drenching our yard and driveway with the garden hose. A trip to the lake on Memorial Day ended with mama clenching her son's hand tight so as not to lose him to the rough waves and have him swept away to Canada. I had no intentions, mind you, of actually going in the water once the clouds covered the sun and a cold wind rolled in, but apparently my son had other plans. One of my favorite sayings is" Man plans, God laughs ". This could not be more true when dealing with a 3 year old. As mentioned,  the weather had turned yet that didn't stop my water baby from charging forth into the cold foamy froth of our Lake Erie. Being that my husband is the total opposite of us, preferring dry land, he was no help. That left mama soaked and freezing, but having the time of her life with her soaked and freezing child. For me summer doesn't even begin until I pass through the glass door onto that pool deck to meet my bestie in our corner of the pavement . I can barely get the sunblock on dear one before he is tugging at my hand to get in the water. Just a moment, mama has to make sure all her junk is tucked in before I bare my lily white skin to the neighborhood. This year calls for a more appropriate suit for chasing my little one. A string bikini is great for tanning, but I would like all my parts to stay where they are in case I need to take a sudden plunge into the deep end. No mom skirts yet, just a little more support for what mother nature has given me. Summer has a certain kind of magic that can only come from days and nights spent outdoors. Warm sun kisses our skin, cool water refreshes, and to me there is nothing like sand between my toes or dirt on the bottom of my feet from days spent barefoot. Friends and family gather for cocktails on the porch or backyard barbeques. Flickering citronella(hopefully)keeps bugs away while we relax under the trees listening to evening bird song. Vacation at the beach and a trip to Coney Island will round out my season. So as my young charges watch over my business, I will become like a kid again. I will swim and play, forget to shower, let my hair get wild and sunbleached and enjoy all the season has to offer. For in this corner of our world, summer is fleeting and that pool doesn't stay filled forever. Goodnight world.

a new attitude

First let me preface this post with a great big Happy Mother's Day! One mighty little lady and her big shoes, big drinks, and definite big ideas shaped who I am today. I love you mom! Today is the first Mother's day where I was actually able to sleep in, get a bedside serenade by my little one, and have pancakes and coffee provided by my beautiful husband. On this bright sunny day I get to do NOTHING!! Well of course that won't happen because I still have obligations(try as I might not to), but at least these obligations are at my leisure. Past Mother's days had me at the restaurant early in the morning to start a long, arduous day taking care of other mothers and their families. After the brunch rush, a quick mimosa, cinnamon roll and than on to the even more crazy dinner rush taking care of now impatient other mothers and their equally impatient families. Ah, holidays. Not to be this year!! My husband and I are now 2 weeks into our early "retirement" and let me tell you, OMG!! I never thought that quitting a job and simultaneously decreasing my income would actually alleviate all my stress. After months of anxiety about the unknown, my husband and I took one very large step off the cliff and put all our faith in the idea of a new life. A new life that promised more time together as a family, more time to focus on our real careers and more time to focus on, well, our life. Let me tell you, this was not an easy decision to come by, so bound by financial obligations we didn't think this ever possible. After a lot of extra work to catch up on bills, pay off the car(FINALLY), stock up the store, we were ready. Fifteen years working in a restaurant is considered a LONG time in that business. Fortunately I loved my job and my coworkers, well most of them. We had a few suspect managers, chefs, and servers that weren't always high on my list. That aside, our core group of friends/coworkers were always there to provide the entertainment when customers weren't behaving nicely.  It is this comraderie I will miss, the little nuances that determined the mood of the evening. Is the salad girl going to be nice tonight? Is the chef going to yell at the slow server? Is the pizza guy going to bitch all night because he is the only one busy? Is the crazy Albanian dishwasher going to boss the chef around all night? So as not to cut all ties I can still make "guest appearances" and work a shift every now and then. So to that crazy life we said bon voyage and sailed off to our new horizon. Transition is never easy even when welcomed. My husband so used to being busy all the time tends to wander the house looking for something to do. Now you know as a wife, I can find him plenty of activity( the closet door that still needs hung). I of course feel like a lion out of a cage...FREEDOM!! Off and running to my store, happy to be alone with my old crap, I am able to finish my projects, have more time to scout for old stuff, and just be happy being my own boss. My husband also has more time to do what men do, whatever that is. Seriously though, he is like a pig in poop with his new job, days at the park with his son, and evenings with his wife. Never in a thousand years did we imagine so much possibility in instability. So now that the hard part is over, the leaping is done, we are ready to forge ahead with a new attitude and create our life as we know it. Good afternoon world.

demands

Today is the kind of day where I would happily take my tiny stash of money and board an airplane straight to Florida. Running away seems like the perfect solution to avoid my troubles for the temporary time being. Temporary being the key word here. Running away never helps, but it sure is nice dreaming of a beach complete with free unencumbered time and a big freakin cocktail to numb me. I know my friend would welcome me with open arms again and Alice's canal would sure lull me back to some semblance of normalcy. This beautiful fantasy unfortunately is not going to happen today so I am stuck with this crappy day and all my troubles. Of course my troubles are nothing in the grand scheme of things. I have my health, family, home, etc. It is just a day where I feel I cannot give enough to all the masters I serve. Certain persons with their well-intentioned meddling advice about my mothering skills are not welcome in my world today. The big stupid leak from my toilet into my kitchen this morning did not bode well with my morning coffee. The amount of dusty merchandise piled in the back of my store and in my car is staring me down making me feel even more inadequate because with my child wreaking havoc behind my desk, I just can't get to it. Dare I mention the mountain of crap on top of my desk also a lovely reminder of my said inadequacy. There are also financial demands this week because that $@##* leak now needs fixed and plumbers don't work for free. My list goes on, but I will not bore you with all the minutae. Through the ages mothers have taken care of their families by cooking, cleaning, shopping, loving and in many other ways that tend to go unnoticed. Now in this millenium not much has changed. We do this job because we love our husbands and children. It's a no brainer. It is also very difficult in a time that does not allow to focus on one job, but multiple. With the plethora of jobs I have employed over the years, nothing prepared me for this one. My husband has always been a huge asset(thank God) jumping right in and sharing the amount of housework, childcare, etc. His schedule allowed it. Now with his career finally taking off, I am left with more of the "burden". This does not allow much time for my business. Oh sure, I am there as much as possible, but the quality of this time does not add up. To own a small business is a LOT of work and thankfully I love it, but it also takes a LOT of time, something which I'm short on. It's great our child goes to school, but just when I get into my displays, pricing, cleaning, painting, rearranging, phone calls, customers(get the picture) I have to drop what I'm doing and everything gets put on hold until the next time I'm alone. Now there is a reprieve. Our restaurant career is FINALLY coming to a close. Two more weeks and I can scratch that off my list. Two more weeks and our little family will have more time together. No more dragging my poor 3 year old to the shop. No more tantrums in front of potential buyers. No more toys behind my desk. Two more weeks and my beautiful boy can run free like he should be doing.  The wracking guilt I feel over the situation doesn't help, but as stated previously daycare has never been an option so I deal with it and not always well. Sometimes mommies too have their tantrums. Unfortunately being an adult this is often frowned upon. Today I don't care. Today I threw a nice big tantrum complete with tears and stamping feet. Today this is how I dealt with my life. Today my mother-in-law whisked my child away with a look akin to aghast on her face and is probably calling social services as we speak. Now I really am exagerrating(about social services that is) not the tantrum. All I could think was GOODBYE!  After 2 hours of quiet and a solo trip to my favorite hispanic mercado, I was in much better shape. So I suppose we mothers really can have it all, as long as we are allowed our occasional tantrum too! Goodnight world.

death

Today marks the one year anniversary of my father-in-law's death. Anxiously bumping along preparing for our big life changes, I didn't even notice how fast the year had flown. Last April our family was busy making final arrangements for this great man. A great man that would be so annoyed at my post. Being a public figure, my father-in-law shunned most publicity and spotlight. He was a humble man not in the least interested in fame and fortune. He was a man driven by law, God, and his family. If one did not fit into these three categories than he really didn't take much notice, well except for football that is. Football was the end all, be all in this family. Football was also the reason for this legend's demise. Having a professional football career in a leather helmet era led to way too many knocks on the noggin. Unfortunately no one at the time thought anything of it, ah, just get up, you're fine. Well fifty some years later those knocks took their toll and this man who's mind made him what he was, slowly lost his. Nobody should have to watch a person disintegrate from Alzheimer's disease. It is a disease that sucks at you until only left with a mere shell of a person. Oh sure, we have funny stories to tell, little snippets about dad's final behaviors that are meant to make us not feel so damn bad, when in truth they just make us feel worse. Now that a year has passed and I have spent the day trying NOT to feel so damn sad, I can remember the man before the disease. My most vivid memory was when my husband and I started dating and this big white-haired man came into the restaurant, grabbed my wild man's face in two big hands, said "hello sweetheart", and gave John a big kiss on each cheek. You see my husband was wild, way too Irish for his own good, he spent many a night cozied up to the bar at the end of a long evening. That didn't stop me or anyone for that matter from loving my soon-to-be husband. Thankfully those days are long past and the only bar he cozies up to would be our breakfast bar in the kitchen waiting for his morning coffee fix. The fact that this man could turn my man into putty with just a gesture says volumes. No one was ever able to tame this fiercely independent child yet my father-in-law only had to walk in a room and ever so subtley my husband would stand just a little straighter. The pride my father-in-law felt for his family was insurmountable. Every football or lacrosse game had my father-in-law cheering on his children and grandchildren. I know we all wish he could still be here to watch my nephews run their passes and tackle their giant opponents. I know my beautiful nephews feel the loss of his presence at every game and every day. Such a large presence to be without. From dating to marriage, my father-in-law welcomed me with open arms and for the last 14 years I felt like one of his own children. I loved his son so he loved me, simple. Now I only have to look at my child or nephew to see my father-in-law. My son's steely blue eyes and my nephew's profile give me a pleasant jolt of nostalgia every time I look at their lovely faces. So dad, I'm going to wipe my tears, cut the crap and get to the chase. We love you, we miss you, and we wish you were still here to keep us all in line. Good night world.

melting pot

Hispanic, arabic, asian, albanian, indian, french, german, italian, black, white, gay, straight, etc., no I'm not studying anthropology or political correctness. Driving around my fair city the other day allowed me to take notice of the many cultures, colors, and lifestyles surrounding us. Diversity thrives like the wild mint next to my driveway. Growing up in a world as white as Wonder bread always left me longing for "something else". For as long as I can remember I have been obsessed with other languages, cultures, food, people. Marrying a lebanese/irish man opened up a whole new world for me. No I'm not talking Guinness and pubs here. I'm talking about kibbie, grape leaves, sheik el mishwa, and other deliciousness I don't dare try to spell. Not to mention the language which is as complicated as calculus, but oh so beautiful to listen to. I have been trying to learn this new world of strange letters and symbols and so far the only words I'm coming up with are please and thank you and a slew of dirty words I probably shouldn't mention. I will keep trying to master this so obsessed am I. Today's grocery adventure led my son and I to the hispanic market  in the neighborhood. The trays of spicy marinated meats, crazy cheeses, salsas, so many tortillas and tamales had my mouth watering. Tonight's dinner will be a marvel accompanied by a cool Corona of course! The Spanish language is also another obsession. I try to learn through snippets of my son's Dora and Diego cartoons, along with our Honduran prep cook helping with basic conversation. It amazes me, the more I speak, the more I remember from school and that just makes me want to learn more, more, more. My husband says it sounds like we have a Mexican nanny when I'm yelling at my son in Spanish. Of course Spanish leads to French. So intrigued I spent a year in school trying to master this romance language. My knowledge of this particular patois is more extensive than most yet I still struggle. Working in a restaurant all these years opened my eyes to other countries I seriously never knew existed. Albania, where the hell is that, well I can tell you it's by Italy and Greece. It has beautiful beaches and no one really likes peanut butter there. Honestly ask any of my Albanian friends. My favorite Albanian loves to swear at me in her native language, accent as thick as mud, while she yells bitch across the kitchen. God, I love her. Only in America or at least in this particular corner of the rust belt. For tonight though, I will smoke my cigarette on the porch while I watch my beautiful Indian neighbor in her vibrant saris walk her young children before bedtime. However you open your eyes to culture, whether through food or language or travel, know that your world is truly a melting pot and for this reason a more beautiful and interesting place to reside. So dear check out guy at the arabic market, if you see me staring at you strangely it is only because I wish I could speak and understand your lovely language. Good night, bonne nuit, buenas noche, natanamir, world.

tired

Today was the kind of long boring day that made me wish I had listened to my inner slacker and stayed at home...in my pjs. After spending the past week moving, cleaning, painting, and arranging a few loads of heavy furniture not to mention waking at the crack of dawn for an estate sale I am bone tired. The weekend itself was a whirlwind of jobs and visiting family. Not that I don't love my dad, but did I really have to get all manic and make a delicious yet complicated lamb stew and homemade lemon meringue pie. Yes, cooking is comfort for my soul, but as I mentioned, I am freakin' tired! Being it was a belated birthday celebration, I was not able to shelve my obsessive need to well, celebrate, which brings me to my current state, cranky. I am so cranky and tired that every little move my wild child makes is leaving me cringeing and edgey. It would be one thing if he could just chill and watch his shows, but oh no, hopped up on early Easter candy he is a tornado of activity this evening. The pizza I decided to make is taking forever because my oven has become psychotic and is nuclear one day and like a toaster the next. I suppose I should call a repairman, but I just don't feel like it. This appliance hex that has decided to descend upon my home is also adding to my current crankiness. The furnace seems to have the same problemo as my lovely oven. Oh, you're working today? Great. Yesterday I had to sweet talk it to turn on, you mother****just work, dammit. Did I mention it's a pretty new furnace, nice, huh? Bitch, bitch, bitch, I know just shut up, right? Well this is my blog and I can bitch if I want to. Okay, now I feel better. Sorry dear readers, sometimes it just is what it is. Now that I've gotten that off my chest, I think I will go kiss my child who is thankfully eating that pizza and finally still. My pjs are already on and my wine and pizza await along with my night of Bravo reality fabulousity. Bring it on housewives because your problems are always worse than mine! Good night world.

almost there

Well, here we are, March. As we know March is a month that can be either a lion or a lamb. Fortunately this March has been unexpectedly lovely, a real lamb. So much in fact my fellow midwesterners are screaming OMG ITS GLOBAL WARMING!! Really? Come on now, lets enjoy what we have. I swear these people would complain no matter what the weather. As it stands the sunshine has put a little spring in my step, so used to the gray skies, I am taking full advantage of all this unwarranted blue sky and bright sun. Mornings on the back porch with face tilted toward the sky, I can just feel the lines deepening around my eyes. Who cares, we all get old anyway! Really though, spring has sprung and none too early. Robins have returned to my backyard to build their nests, flying with errant twine or twig clenched in their beak. My squirrels are staring in my window waiting for their overly indulgent peanut butter bread. Even my 6 goldfish, after removing the chicken wire cover, popped up to say hey, we made it, now bring it on! I never tire of watching them chase each other in one neat little line like tiny orange soldiers going into watery battle. The cats that live in my garage(not mine by the way)have made THEIR presence known my smushing my budding catmint plants and leaving the lovely smell of cat pee all over the yard. I love the look of pure disdain on their smarmy faces when they see us watching them, really, you're in my yard and that's my plant you're squashing. Even my friends' chickens are restless, refusing to stay in their coop and racing down his driveway like a pack of small wild dogs. The look of annoyance on his face as he tries to corral them only makes the scene more amusing. Just watching a chicken run in its lopsided way makes me giggle. As mentioned, even my perennials are ready to bust out of their damp, dirty cover. My lilacs have nice fragrant buds,hydrangeas are filling in, forsythia has shown us its bright yellow show, and my hostas are slowly unfurling their long green leaves. My backyard is about to become a cool green oasis while my front is about to get a little wild with its overpacked flower beds. Wild like my life, wild like my 3 year old whos boundless energy is best spent running outside. Using him as target practice with a big rubber ball always makes for a good laugh. His head throws back in fits of giggles and oh crap, mama just hit him in the head with the big rubber ball. Whoops, whadda ya want? I was the cheerleader, not the tomboy. Even my husband has jumped right in, clearing said flower beds of musty leaves, emptying than adding water to our pond and cleaning the gunk out of the clogged pump. Uh, yeah, that's a guy job for sure! So as we hunker down this week INSIDE due to a sudden cold snap(it IS still March ) I look outside and see all my flora and fauna functioning just fine. Because even though cold, the sun is still shining and I realize the worst is over, summers' around the bend, and we are almost there. Goodnight world.

comfort

Just hearing this word instantly relaxes me. One little word that can mean so much. Live in comfort, comfort food, COMFORTable, COMFORTing, shall I go on? A tiny bit of this can make a crappy day better, put kick in your step, feel like a warm scarf. Comfort is not a term that requires vast research to discover its meaning. Comfort can be found in the simplest of items, gestures, words. To me comfort may involve a fresh pair of warm socks after having cold clammy feet all day or that first cup of joe to start my day. Comfort can also involve close friends, homemade mac and cheese, Billie Holiday on the record player, yes, I said record player! Nothing is more comforting than that ethereal scratchiness that torch song singers evoke on vinyl. Comfort is a cinnamon candle, patchouli oil on my husband's neck or baby powder on my child at bedtime. As I've stated in the past, pepperoni greasiness wafting from a pizza box comforts me just as a cigarette does after a good cry. Granny afghans and down COMFORTers coupled with flannel sheets make going to bed early a well deserved luxury. A good book, no matter what your favorite genre is always welcome in down time. Good times or bad, family also deserves a special place on the comfort scale such as a mother's hug or a father's pat on the back when feeling proud. Comfort can pertain to one's financial success, having a comfortable life means job well done. Comfort can also be the pride one takes when unlocking the door to their very own business and flipping the sign on the door to open. To me that equals mine and to ME that means job well done. That alone makes me comfortable. Comfort is seeing the smile of satisfaction on my husband's face when he walks in the door after teaching all day, the smell of a home-cooked meal drifting from the kitchen, and my child smiling dada! So as not to leave anything out, comfort is watching my child's beautiful smile beam from ear to ear as he gets to hang with his older "brother" and torture the poor 8 year old as said 8 year old patiently hangs with him. As I said earlier, so many meanings for one small word, I could go on all night. Instead I will let you dedicated reader reflect upon your own meaning of this word while I welcome the late-night comfort of my husband's after work warm kiss and hug. Goodnight world.

happy valentine's day

Hearts and flowers, chocolate, champagne, diamond engagements, lingerie, sex and lest we forget LOVE, these are all components of this special day. From its earliest beginnings of martyred saints to Chaucer's romantic poem to mass production of paper valentines during the 1850's, this day made its mark through many a century. How many couples pining over love chose to embrace or ignore this magnanimous romantic holiday. How many times did I cry over being alone or take flowers to a friend in a similar circumstance so we could be miserable together? This said friend just had her true love hand deliver roses to her workplace today and let me tell you she was shining like an incandescent light bulb, happy and satisfied to find her one and only. Valentine's Day is a day of love or torment depending on your situation. Now that I have found my one true love, I am not so quick to NEED to embrace this day, but I certainly won't be unhappy if roses are hand delivered to MY door. Actually I am happy with big bright gerbera daisies. Never one for mushy romance or too much fuss, these flowers and maybe a box of chocolate covered cherries are my only requirements. This year I have to say, I was not feelin' it. Of course I love my betrothed, but his money went to my store rent and right now that is just fine with me. My other favorite valentine of course was spoiled rotten with chocolates, cookies, and a dozen big red balloons that received an"Oh thank you mama! I love you!" That's all I need, that was enough of a present for me. In the future for hub and I there are plenty more Valentine's Days. I am content to sit this one out and quite frankly I'm on a post-holiday diet and candy would just wreck the momentum. So much emphasis is placed on this one day, does he love me or love me not? PUHLEASE!! If he loves you he will overlook his distaste of this "Hallmark holiday" and run out to get you flowers. In my opinion there is no need for multiple lavish gifts, I mean, really, didn't we just do Christmas? Valentine's Day is about being with the one you love and that could be your boyfriend, girlfriend, best friend, mother, father, husband, wife, child, or even your dog. A dog loves you unconditionally and doesn't roll his eyes or scoff at the words Valentine's Day. Today I spent time with a few of my true loves. I had nice alone time(get your minds out of the gutter)with my husband, seriously he had to work so just a coffee outing for us. I also had time with my son at my bestie's house making pizza, drinking wine, and eating brownies (yeah, I know there goes the diet) while our little loved ones played. I didn't miss the hearts and flowers today because I had everything I needed right where I needed it. Tonight I am happy to lock lips with my love when he walks in the door and be thankful that we have survived another year together in this crazy story of ours called life. Happy Valentine's Day to all my favorite loves(you know who you are)and goodnight world.

leap of faith

Be careful what you wish for. This is a saying I've heard my whole life and just never figured it applied to me. I have never wished for anything quite out of the ordinary like a fancy car or mcmansion or even millions of dollars. In fact most times I feel my wishes HAVE come true. I have a wonderful husband, beautiful child, had a fabulous dog and own my own business that I love to my core. My only wish that hasn't been granted is my swimming pool. I have dreamed of my own pool since I was a child. Ah if only life were so simple that wishes consisted of swimming pools and say, unicorns. As an adult I now wish for boring old stability. This seems to be the most difficult and elusive wish of all. One month the bills get paid and the next they don't. I am quite tired of this hamster wheel of monetary obligation. It is quite maddening. As I mentioned in a previous post the Christmas blur has ended and now we are left with the few months between until the flowers poke up to say hey it's spring now! These few months always cause a bit of anxiety and restlessness in this part of the country or at least in this city where the sun decides to hibernate like a big fat grizzly. Really? Gray again, great. This weather does not improve my mood or my psyche. I shouldn't complain, its been so mild yet I would almost feel better in 4 feet of snow, at least I know where I stand. So you can see my mood lately(hey I warned ya back in December) and can only imagine my surprise when my husband arrived home one day with good news about his career. What, you say? Good news? Impossible this is my moment of melancholy, I'm not allowed to be happy right now. Apparently his career is about to take off one little baby step at a time. Hey we'll take it because the only baby steps around here are now walking to school. Anyway wow! It's about time. I can actually take a step back and breathe, give up control, quit my other job. Oh, I just had to go and say it, quit my other job, here comes the anxiety. This is where that old annoying saying comes in. I can't wait to quit my other job. I am mentally OVER dealing with people and their damn food. I DON'T CARE IF YOUR STEAK IS OVERCOOKED. That's when you know it's time to go, but the stability of that money makes it very hard to take that flying leap. My husband and I have been living that restaurant life for over 15 years but now it is time to follow in my friend's footsteps and say so long. I can't wait to close the shop on a Friday or Saturday and come home to my family, cook dinner, have some wine(well you knew that was coming)and just be. The loss of income on both our parts will be difficult, but I have to roll with it, have faith, and trust in my husband to know this is where our path leads us. Trust is hard, especially for a control freak like me, but my heart knows that together we can take that leap of faith and all will be just fine. Goodnight world.

three

 As you know by now we are three, we are a family. Three being the operative word here. Our dear sweet little angel has turned 3. This was not the age I had feared, two is what everyone talked about. Ah, but than you hear the other parents speak of three and oh, just wait! Great. Let me tell you, they're not lying. Three is torture. My dear sweet little angel has turned into a wild thing that would make Maurice Sendak's creations seem tame. I feel he is truly the "wildest thing of all". There is no rhyme or reason with this age, nothing feels clear. My head feels as muddled as a good old fashioned as I try to make sense of tiny tirades over power struggles. Um, aren't I the boss here? Good Lord, I end up feeling like I've been tossed about by a large wave and thrown onto the beach. I try to ignore, not give in to it, but he's always right there letting you know his discontent. On the surreal flip side, the other sweet extreme makes those terrible moments worth it. The behavior is the polar opposite. You think, why was I so upset? How could my sweet boy ever make me crazy? Yeah right, watch out because it will be back and right at bedtime which is always fun, not. Wrestling matches over getting into pj's can lead to one well placed kick and daddy is bent over silently swearing in pain. "Oh sorry dada, me kiss your booboo?" No, not necessary says my husband grimacing, just please go to sleep. Three books later we stare at that sleeping child and think, this ain't so bad. Good night world.

January

Well as aforementioned it is January. January is the month that sparks hope for the coming year and angst at the coming weather, at least in this neck of the woods. Being in the midst of this schizophrenic winter freeze and thaw has me feeling somewhat similar. I revel in the luxury of a couch potato existence yet other days nothing will settle me enough to sit still. My son's cold was the perfect excuse to play hooky from the shop and read my spooky book all day. The very next day had us up early buying old junk for the store which of course set my brain buzzing with new ideas etc. etc. Due to our lack of snow accumulation this winter my fellow midwesterners appear to be like squirrels in the middle of the road, running back and forth, perpetually confused. Not enough snow to ski or sled, too cold to play outside, what to do, what to do? I have now taken my 3 year old ice skating 3 times to no avail. He is just not ready and refuses to even try to stand up so my best intentions go down the toilet along with my admission, skate rental fee, and patience. My husband and I take turns whizzing around the rink so our afternoon doesn't seem a total waste of time. Hot chocolate doesn't even help because than my dear one just cries and complains "it's too hot, it's too hot" even with 89 icecubes in his tiny styrofoam cup. Ugh. I am also getting tired of spending my hard earned pennies(it is January)at the neighborhood coffee shop. Don't get me wrong, I love our little local place, there is no need to go across the street to the commercial establishment, but vegan pastries and large mochas add up. Somehow I always feel less guilty eating the vegan fare, but probably shouldn't hold out hope that they are less fattening. Who cares anyway, it's winter, let's get fat. Seriously though, that is my other problem, exercise,just can't seem to get motivated. Thankfully I am busy enough to not worry, but in a few months we will all be running around half naked and I would like my junk to just not shake as much. Well I will get serious in February. February we should have snow.  February is when I have my ski plans, that is if my friend can fit into her ski pants. Every year we hold our breath to get the snap shut and shuffle out to the slopes, buzzed on cold air, companionship, and margaritas. Yes, even in the dead of winter a margarita can solve all your problems. For now though it is time to get my wild child in bed, turn off those insufferable preschool cartoons, and run for the wine bottle and my robe. Ah yes, winter, back to my couch. Good night world.

moving on

Well here we are, January. It is cold, windy and snowy and I opted to sit this day out, well at least until work tonight. Tonight will be the night I say goodbye to our chef, my boss(well at least he thinks so), and my dear friend. After 12 years together he is moving on to greener pastures, lucky bastard! Life as coworkers in a restaurant makes for some tedious relationships yet the two of us have held strong. We have dealt with each other's strange quirks and many different attitudes. Many a time our two big personalities would do battle, but always ended with us dancing in the kitchen while our coworkers glared at our spectacle. Tonight is the last night I will hear his big mouth yelling from the kitchen or hear the knife slam on the steel table or witness his true wrath as a server screws up again(those are always fun). Well it's certainly going to be a quiet kitchen after he leaves, I can tell you that! From this day forth I have to stand on my own for my partner in crime is moving on. Who can I torment now?! All this talk about moving on makes me dwell on future possiblilites as well. I feel the gears have started on big changes in our life and it is impossible to stop them. So much hope overwhelms me. So as not to feel as such, I am content to stay cozy inside until the time comes when my friend and I have our last dance.I love you Tony, you will be missed. Good afternoon world.

happy new year

As I settle in my chair to write,I am comforted by the sound of my husband and child happily chatting as they prepare dinner. My little family all tucked in protected by a fresh fall of snow. Happy new year to us.What beautiful reasons to be grateful. This past holiday season flew by in a blur of overindulgence. Business was booming so this broad worked continuously, well except for my last minute getaway to the sunshine state to visit a favorite friend. Three days of glorious sunshine had me feeling like the cat that ate the canary! Lounging in a beach chair, skin midwest white waiting to be kissed by a little southern sun, was positively dreamy. Another favorite moment was drinks on the dock of Alice's canal. Mullet jumping and birds in the mangroves were our only entertainment. Aah, Florida, to smell it is to know it. Nothing can compare to that smell of warm salt air and sun. Leaving was bittersweet for I was anxious to get back to Christmas land yet hated to leave my friend. Cold weather and endless Christmas preparations awaited my return. Who am I kidding, I love that stuff! Sneaking away to Florida just made Christmas even better. I was relaxed and ready to tackle the next two weeks. Working and cooking and eating and shopping and drinking consumed those 14 days. Presents were unwrapped in a flash of shiny paper. Meals and countless cookies were consumed with vigor. Christmas day had us in couch comas until it was time to start up again at dinner. More family, more presents, you know, the usual. So now it is over. Tomorrow starts the diet, the decoration deconstruction, smaller deposits at the bank, yes, reality. As we know I'm not much for that, but this year bring it on. I'm ready to charge forward and take this year by the..well, you know. I am determined to stare down all the coming changes and challenges rather than cower and complain. I know as long as I have my little family waiting for me, anything is possible. Happy New Year world.