escape

October is quickly becoming another of my least favorite months, next to February that is. At least February is short unlike October's 31 days. The only saving grace of October is Halloween. Halloween with all its parties, costumes, scary movies, and of course trick or treating. Engulfed in all this escapism and revelry certainly takes my mind off the endless worries. My husband's career situation is enough to put me in the loony bin and with these frostier temperatures I am unable to jump on my board on a whim and let the lake take away my troubles. Oh sure I could head into the icy waters now, but the lake is a moody bitch and sometimes I just don't feel so brave staring into the churning wavy water. I'll leave that for the surfers. For now I have to find my escape elsewhere. As stated, Halloween is wonderful for all things that go bump in the night and I do love a classic scary movie. Give me Mike Myers or Damien any day. Jamie Lee Curtis turning around to find the creepy grown up kid in the hedges or the weird nanny jumping from the gables all for Damien give me a scary thrill. I have also reawakened my undying love for Stephen King plowing through three books in three weeks just to busy my troubled mind. I couldn't help but compare our government furlough situation to life Under the Dome and it's always nice to revisit the Overlook Hotel no matter what ghosties were left behind. Joyland is definitely a new favorite so enamored with the south am I. Who wouldn't love an old amusement park on the beach with a little murder thrown in? Escaping into costume and another persona was also fun for a night. My husband's sexy seventies Sonny Bono mustache had me catching my breath every time he looked my way. The handlebar toughness a surprising contrast to his more mild-mannered ways. Dressing our son as a policeman reminiscent of Reno 911 was also a welcome diversion. Watching him stay in serious character at his school festival had us holding our sides laughing, he is just so quirky. Halloween with the tiny cop and Grammy Diva should definitely be entertaining. It can't be Halloween every day so exercise is also another go-to for clearing my head. I have spent countless hours walking, running, swimming and now I've rediscovered the lovely benefits of spinning. Pounding out "hills" on a stationary bike while bass thumping music blasts into my head, sweat dripping, is quite the rush. This may just become my new obsession until warmer weather is bestowed. With all these lovely distractions, you may wonder how I find time to even worry, well let's just say I'm very familiar with three a.m. Three a.m. and I are going to be very good friends until my husband starts back to work and the holidays arrive with the hustle and bustle of Christmas profits. Until then I will open my new book, pour a margarita, and register for tomorrow night's spin class. Good evening world.

back in the saddle

Wow, a whole month without a post and what a whirlwind of a month it was! Vacation ended and school started along with my workload. Once I got the boss settled in class for the year, I than had two weeks to completely empty my store to prep for the remodel. After living with a dingy, sagging drop ceiling for nine years it finally began to fall and as promised my landlord ripped the whole ugly structure down and replaced with a nice new high plaster ceiling and a LOT of fluorescent lights. So many lights you could see my store from the moon. Emptying a store can be as hard as filling a space. After a few big sales my inventory was thankfully diminished and the last of it loaded on a giant truck to go to my flea market extravaganza. My garage stuffed full of my hoarding was also loaded onto the giant truck. Once my cohort and I arrived in the country it was more hauling of furniture, this time off the truck. Twenty-six feet packed full of vintage wares and than the rain started. Scurrying to get everything under the one assembled tent was challenging along with assembling the other large canopy. Being doused by another dealer's rain run off wasn't very enjoyable either. Five hours later the truck was empty, tents were up, and wine was opened with friends. Off to the motel, cheese and crackers for dinner and than up at the crack of dawn to start the next 3 days. Three days of buying, selling, wind and rain, airlifted tents, broken lamps, tying down hovering tent, and ninety degree heat. Now you wonder if it's such a pain in the ass, why do it? Because we have fun! Meeting new friends, making fun new contacts, afternoon cocktails with visiting friends, carny food, margaritas, lots of laughing and of course there is always dancing on Saturday night. Nothing like girlfriends having a good time. Well, after loading the truck back up with the remnants and new stuff on Sunday and heading back to Cleveland to empty and return truck, this chick was done. Exhausted. Three days of work, fun, and fattening food. I longed for my family and a home cooked meal. Since the store was still under construction I took advantage of the time and braved the waves of Lake Erie on my paddle board. By the fourth day the lake had calmed and I was able to take 2 blessed uninterrupted hours and clear my head. Once we got the go ahead it was back to the grind. My husband thankfully handled the mess left by the workers and I got to work painting furniture and Halloween window displays. More emptying of the garage, one day to set up and I was back open for business! Wow. Bleary eyed, I almost cried when it was all done, so relieved was I. Closing and opening a business all in 3 weeks is a Hell of a load and until you've moved all the merchandise and painted floors and walls and furniture and displays with a flea market 3 hours away thrown in for shits and  giggles and some fierce "surfing" for relaxation, oh and providing refreshments and taking care of a family, well it's just a lot. Fortunately I have a supportive husband and love my job because this little business is how I feed my family and take care of my bills. This 1000 square feet of vintage love that has become part of my soul and part of the community. A community that continues to support my "cause" and keep me in business. Time off is great, but boy is it nice to get back to normal and back in the saddle. Good night world.

freedom

Well here we go again. Another school year off and running. I swear I was just writing about the end of school, so quickly the summer flew. This year instead of moving on to kindergarten my young five year old is getting one more round of pre-k. Smart as a whip, he is like most boys, slow to mature. Spending the summer attached to my side has lead to a bit of separation anxiety when we get to class. He is not used to this new group of younger kids. Big and strong he towers over most. Tough yet sensitive his tears can break your heart in two. This is where I find myself today. As I peeked back in the classroom he was crying in his teacher's arms. Good Lord, did I really have to look back? By sheer force of will I walked myself out of that school with my heart breaking and promptly went to the park and walked off 5 miles of emotion. This is what I waited for all summer. My schedule, my own free time, freedom. Unfortunately my freedom is fraught with feelings of uncertainty. Not used to seeing such an independent child so clingy is disconcerting. I know it should make me feel more loved, more wanted, but it only causes emotional confusion. If you love them, set them free the saying goes and I know at the end of the day he will come back to me a little more secure in his surroundings. Each day will get easier, it IS only the first week of school. This became my mantra as I circled that park, quickly putting each mile behind me. Gazing at the lake I was again reminded that summer has not ended for this mom. Dreaming of my new sport and the next opportunity to get on the water brought a small smile to my face. By the end of my trek, my head was clear and I knew my child was in good hands. I knew the tears had stopped and he was busy helping and leading the smaller ones. So today I go off to my shop, alone, quiet, and somewhat peaceful. Tomorrow I can hunt for furniture or get on my paddle board or have coffee with my husband or get ready for the next big flea market. Whatever I do, I know my time belongs to me until that moment when the bell rings and he comes crashing into my arms and I am all his again. I love my freedom, but I love this sensitive rough and tumble child most of all. Good morning world.

surf's up

There is no traffic. There are no people. There is no noise except a gentle slap,slap,slap as water strikes the underside of my paddle board while I glide over what lies beneath. The sky is turquoise and the sun high and bright, sparkles like diamonds as it hits the water's surface. The water is cool and green and barely a ripple breaks the calm. This is my therapy. In fact after the initial cost it is cheaper than any therapist. One stop shop for a summer of inner peace. Trying to find ways to cope with daily life can get to be a grind. I can only run so much, write so much, bake so much, but when my feet hit that board I am complete. I've never been a sporty person. I've never owned any kind of equipment so used to renting if I felt the need to release the inner jock. Fact of the matter, money and space constraints put a damper on having my own gear. This was different. I suppose I was hooked after the challenge of trying to get back to land after a sudden wind nearly swept my friend and I off to Canada(see 2 posts ago). Strange way to start my watery affair. After my third attempt in much calmer water I announced to my husband I was buying a board. He gave me that look that close friends and coworkers know all too well. That look that lets me know when he thinks I'm loony. My husband is all earth and matter of fact and one would think he'd be used to his wife's flights of fancy by now. First question out of his mouth mentioned the money. Yeah, yeah, whatev. I know it's expensive. I also know I will probably never have a boat or even my own pool, but this, this was doable. So I took some of that big money(well, big for us) he earned this summer and bought myself 12 feet of aqua and white fiberglass complete with leash, paddle, and pfd. I had the front of the board strung for stowing light cargo and a friend hooked me up with a waterproof cell phone case. Good to go. The minute I had the board in my possession I was off and running, well paddling. Meeting up with wild woman for a sunset paddle an hour after I had my board was positively magical. Repeating the same evening on my birthday a few days later was breathtaking. The water was glassy and the sun was a giant fiery ball of orange as it slipped behind the cliff while our 3 silhouettes paddled in to the beach. Now all this talk of cool calm water is great, but lest we forget this is Lake Erie we're talking about, the most shallow of the Great Lakes. Lake Erie can turn on a dime and I have spent a few hours in some choppy, wavy water. Crazy as it sounds, I enjoy this just as much as the stillness. I suppose I am a closet adrenaline junkie because when I "surfed" my first "big" wave I think I actually did a fist pump and I don't do that. That feeling of power and control over the water while being able to stay on my board was intoxicating! So dear readers, now you know why I've been away from my computer for so long. My love affair with my paddle board and that lake has taken over like the colder temps are about to take over our fair city. I am holding out though. Summer is not over until the lake tells me so. Good night world.

beach house

It is not a fancy house. It is not a big house. There is no swimming pool or brightly hued exterior. The furniture is knotty pine 1970's discards mixed with Miami Vice era white formica. The shower and tubs are the same harvest gold insert they've been for at least 25 years. The stove is still electric and the dishwasher was only added in the last few years. The old wood desk has sat by the side door manning the entrance for as long as I can remember. In fact the whole place has that feel of abandoned college dorm furniture meets summer rental. What does set this beige sided structure apart from say the bright orange monstrosity down the road is the fact that it sits on stilts in the middle of a sand dune facing the Atlantic Ocean. Climbing the steps to the porch one is smacked in the face with the view of sea, sand, and surf. The kudzu creeps through the sand while the sea oats wave in the salty wind. The weathered dock leading to paradise is old, creaky, and very splintery. The meeting place in the middle still holds memories from past margarita nights. This house, this special place has been my home away from home for 27 years. Every August I have made the trek to this beach, my beach to restore my senses or lose sight of them depending on the company. I do not own the house, in fact that honor belongs to Carol in Boca, but for one week a year it is mine. My respite. My getaway from normal life, stress, what have you. The house has hosted many a family member, friend, dog, even a shot gun bride. It has withstood countless hurricanes and heat spells. It has remained in the same hands through death and in my hands even through my parent's divorce. Like the ocean claiming the beach, I claim this house. I will not let go. I will work my tail off in order to pay the steep weekly rate. All worth it for this little slice of time where I can let go, not shower, eat shrimp until I'm sick, read for hours and best of all share it with my little family and the friends I love. The memories this house has cultivated over the years is what stays with me and brings us back each summer. Laughter and love all lulled by the sound of crashing waves. Salt air mixed with the briny scent of the ocean floods the senses as soon as we open the car doors. Shaking off the midwest pace and slowing down to a southern crawl rejuvenates my soul and I am loathe to leave. Alas the end approaches and I feel my gears starting to wind up again. I am sunburned, sandy, and hair like straw, but I am happy. I have spent the week with people I love and my heart is full again. Best of all, I know this modest cottage will be waiting for me in exactly 365 days when I can reclaim it as mine if only for a short time. Good afternoon world.

One wet summer

Let me just preface this post dear readers with a great big apology for my absence. I cannot believe it has been 2 months since I sat down to write about my crazy world. Well, settle in because this may take a bit for we have a lot of catching up to do! Summer certainly has washed by in one big torrential wave. Honestly, I do not like to complain about weather matters in the rust belt, but this never ending tumultuous gray sky and daily downpour are starting to make me a bit goofy. Ok, enough about the weather. For me summer never kicks off until I go to my annual flea market in southern Ohio. This year I changed my tune and instead of adding to my hoarding I decided to boost our income and sell my vintage wares. Grabbing a girlfriend I barely knew we headed south in our 20 foot "rig" to spend 4 packed days together. Let me tell you, I have never worked so hard and had so much fun! My small bout with bronchitis that had me coughing like a coal miner miraculously ended in time for me to get down and dirty. Hauling furniture, standing on my feet for hours at a time, talking to hundreds of people, assembling endless displays over and over as my merchandise disappeared at a fast rate all ending with a giant cocktail(or 2 or 3) with my other wild girlfriend. Collapsing into bed in our run down room at night only to do it all over again the next day. Country bands, cowboys, carnival food, margaritas and good friends about sums it up. We even have slumber party tales to tell of wild child's crazy boyfriend and his freight train snoring which left us unable to succumb to our wine induced sleep. He will not be sharing our room next time. After the excitement of Springfield it took me a little while to get back to reality, so much that my girlfriend and I took one more day of fun, sun, and old junk. When the school year's final bell rang later that week, I was ready for summer! Unfortunately Mother Nature had other plans which ended with my girlfriend and I nearly being swept to Canada on our paddle boards. Father's Day came and went in a rainy muggy haze. Fourth of July began with gray skies and very slowly turned to blue just in time for barbecue and fireworks. Another round of paddle boarding with my nephew and his girlfriend gave us water smooth as glass and a hint of blue sky. A day at the pool with my girlfriend and our boys felt like heaven until the approaching gray forced us out and our dinner plans in. Sitting in her garage amongst the junk, rosee in our hands, rain drippin down, was as close to normal as we know. Now here we are just barely 3 weeks away from two big store events and our annual trek to the beach. Now is crunch time and I swear my anxiety is off the hook. Time to pay the rent, the BIG beach deposit and the rest of the bills. Yay. After this week, when the checks (hopefully) clear, I can breathe, paint furniture, and pack our suitcases because a week at the beach is just what this busy, working family needs. Time together, time with Uncle Rob,  and time to stuff my face with endless pounds of shrimp! I swear if one rain drop falls, I'm jumping off that pier! So my friends, there you go. A recap of all things summer in this little life of mine. I promise next time, it won't be as long as it's been. Good night world and stay dry.

Happy Mother's Day

Four and a half years ago I became a mother. While pregnant I had all these romantic notions about motherhood and how I would raise my child. I vowed to never get overly- emotional or neurotic. I vowed to always lay on the floor and play with the plethora of planes, trains, and automobiles along with blocks, crayons, paints, etc. I vowed to never let him go to sleep upset. Now my child is at the end of his toddler years, in fact sometimes he acts so grown up I swear he's really 14 trapped in a 48" tall body. Having a boy presents many challenges because he never seems to run out of energy. My child is also strong-willed and independent. Thank God. My child is exactly as I want him to be. He is equal parts my husband and I. As far as all those romantic notions go, I am powerless at what was passed down to me. I have inherited my mother's hair trigger nerves so noises and yelling tend to make me edgey. This doesn't bode well when raising a boy because they are boundless balls of energy, noise, and dirt. Going to bed upset after bathtime tantrums is just inevitable, but I still try to kiss and soothe. Oh and those toys. I have spent hours building Thomas the train tracks and coloring anything put in front of me or making huge block towers. I must say though, my husband is much better at this part. His patience is infinite. As the past few years have gone by we have all settled into our relationship as parents and child. Never having children before leaves a lot to get used to when doing this for the first and ONLY time. I am able to mostly ignore a lot of the random shouts or kicks or when he rushes by and smacks me in the belly as a sort of weird high five to his mom. Little boys like to show their love by doing annoying things just to get your attention. My child likes to lick my face like a dog because he knows how much it irritates me. In fact anything that irritates me, he just does more. What can I say, boys. The first three and a half years of my child's life were spent in my shop. These were not easy years. These were years where I spent much of my time crying. Trying to run a business in a depression while simultaneously tending to his every need did not always make for a harmonious relationship. Life is easier now with little man in school, my emotional state back in check(mostly), and business doing better, but motherhood is still the hardest job I've ever had. At the beginning of this maternal adventure I felt lost and abandoned, my true self given to this tiny bundle. Each stage of his young life has had it's challenges yet as we stumble through this together as a family, it becomes less difficult. Now we have actual conversations. I can take him to the shop and he can entertain himself with his Legos and not wreack havoc amongst my merchandise. We can sit and have lunch and it doesn't end up all over the floor. While driving he has learned to point out furniture abandoned on the treelawn, so used to me making sudden screeching stops for good junk. My little man has made strides, he is growing up. The more this happens, the more I want to stop and hold him and kiss his beautiful face. At the beginning I just wanted to get to this point. Now as he runs into my arms after school, I just want time to stand still. I want to keep him safe and warm and healthy and never let him go until he's ready to fly our little coop. Even than I will still be waiting for him to run into my arms and I will show him the first Mother's Day card he made for me and I will cry. For hair trigger nerves are not the only thing my beautiful mother has passed down to me. She has given me far too much emotion for my own heart and a strong will that is able to withstand all of the endless bumps in our road of life. For this I am most grateful and this is what I will pass on to my own child. Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there and especially to one very special lady. I love you Babs. Good night world.

gettin' it

Wife, mother,daughter, friend, proprietor, just a few of the hats I wear daily. Being all things to all people on a daily basis is not an easy job to uphold. Regardless of the fact that I love my family and my job more than pizza, there are still days where I throw my hands up in the air and want to run away to Florida. Each of these personas requires an enormous amount of patience(something I am lacking)and emotional/mental energy as well as physical stamina in order to chase my four year old or haul heavy pieces of old furniture. One particular field trip to the botanical gardens had me like a WWF wrestler in order to remove my son from his friends and get to the car. Oh big sigh thinking about that. The unfortunate incident rode on the crest of an extremely long month of worrying about my husband's job search, moving large loads of furniture to hoard for the fast approaching flea market and troublesome bedtimes trying to get the boss in the bathtub. This was also the month where I had to make my grocery money stretch like a rubber band so I could continue to buy those loads of old junk. Thank God for cheap tacos and bananas! I'll tell ya, as stated, I love my job, but some days I am so freakin' tired I cannot even move the remote control. My job though rewarding can be positively back breaking and exhausting. Imagine all the times you've moved than make that a weekly thing and you'll get what I'm talking about. There are days where work is just work yet there is still no better high than foraging and finding treasures and to be your own boss is positively priceless. I will continue to shop at Aldis and bake bread from scratch if it gets me through the slow times so I can continue to do what I love to do. Now being a mother, that's hard. It makes lifting all that old stuff look easy. I have to say being a mother is the hardest job I ever worked. Like just now as I am trying to spread my words of wisdom, somebody was having a whiny meltdown because his Lego firetruck came apart. You see these are not my worries at 42, but at age 4 it is positively the end of the world. He also needed yogurt, waffle, juice, cereal, and to be held, all within the past hour. Now mind you, to hold him is what I live for. Nothing feels better than his hands on my face and to feel his warm body, but the endless up and down off my stool gets a bit aggravating as I try to find the patience I don't have to feed him with a smile his fourth meal of the hour. I have also just spent the better part of the day grocery shopping and moving more furniture so this stool is the only place I want to plant my derriere at the moment. I have come to realize sitting down is a luxury. For the next 3 weeks until I schlepp my old finds to the flea, there will be no sitting down. There will be more endless errands, painting, projects, crafting, and hauling. This will be the time when I may snap. I will not be able to listen to friend's tales of boyfriend woes or work woes or even have a conversation with family members without wanting to shoot myself, but through all I will try to maintain a smile, mind my temper and pray for a large cocktail at the end of the day. Through all of the mothering, working, friending, etc. there is one constant in my life that I simply cannot be without. My husband is my rock. My tether to sanity. This man who has put up with all my moods, attitudes, dreams and schemes and continues to look at me with that beautiful smile on his face. God bless him or help him if you may. Without this man I would be sunk like the Titanic. His unwavering optimism and support makes all these hats a little easier to don and allows me to just keep gettin' it. Good afternoon world.

friends

Friend. Such a simple word with so much meaning. What does one consider a friend? Is a friend someone to hold your hand when times are tough? Is a friend someone to whom all your secrets are spilled? Is a friend someone you can call at anytime and you know they'll be there or someone to laugh with over absolutely nothing? In today's social network/ Facebook world the word "friend" can mean anyone who simply says yes to your request of "friendship". In our race to acquire multitudes of "friends" have we lost our ability to recognize friendship in its truest form? Aha! There lies the rub. With the amount of friends I have gained or lost over my 42 years, the ability to recognize a true friend can still elude even me. I have had best friends move away. I've had friendships that take off and fizzle out like a firecracker shortly after they've begun. I have friends that I don't see on a regular basis, but know that when I need them they are there in an instant. I've had work friends that as soon as the job ends the friendship slowly fades as well. I have one friend whose mischievous behavior sucks me right in and lookout because then there is no turning back! Certain friends of mine make me laugh so hard I almost pee myself and one particular friend is always there no matter what to offer sisterhood, comfort, laughter, and love. There are also surprise friendships I never expected, acquaintances whose common interests have developed into multiple conversations, coffee clatches in the car, and hundreds of texts. Of course for every friendship gained there is always one or a few lost.  Friends on the surface, a good time, but not much else. Because of the amount of time I spend in the company of friends, I tend to take these relationships seriously. Some of my friends are as close to me as family. I have learned over the years to distance myself in situations where I feel my feelings are threatened or hurt. I have also learned to just walk away from friendships that are cutting or mean yet are disguised as humor. At my age nastiness doesn't turn me on. To me a friendship needs to be tangible, heartfelt, and meaningful. It's really that simple. I don't need accolades or acknowledgement everyday, but just to know that in some part of the relationship I matter to you as a friend. True friendships take years to build and mature. Facebook friendships happen as soon as one confirms that request. Don't get me wrong, I love the social network. It has done unbelievable wonders for my business and in cultivating that I have met some truly wonderful people, friends, if you will. To this social butterfly making new friends can be as gratifying as hanging with old friends. Some of these new friends I hope to know for many years. In the meantime to my truest of friends is where my heart remains, this small core that somehow has managed to accept me and all my flaws. Goodnight world.

fashion

After getting my men out the door this morning I immediately made a run for the television in order to immerse myself in all things Bravo and its Bravolebrities. In particular my fav stylist Rachel Zoe. After an hour of watching my girl in her long pants, fur jackets, giant accessories, and very high shoes, I was prompted to write about a subject barely touched on in my literary adventure. Running to my closet to recycle my tired old wardrobe, I ran my fingers over my own collection of wide legged pants,vintage fur jackets, high shoes and opted for a fun yet very un-Zoe like ensemble. Seeing the plethora of clothing that runs throughout the Zoe empire I am inspired to look at my old wardrobe in a new light. Old jackets become new again with some hot pink skinny cords. Vintage metal flower pins find a sunny perch on my collars and my "funeral" shoes now look fresh with the hot pink skinnies. Okay men, I'm sure at this point you have lost interest and clicked back to your manly cyber browse, but hey, I'm a girl and sometimes what you get is girly stuff. As a teen my wanderlust would never quite go away, hating the "burgh" as much as I did. This led to my big dreams of running off to Paris and New York City in order to conquer the fashion world. Well, I did get to Paris, as a tourist and upon sitting on the steps of my coveted Chanel (after hours) I managed to set off the screeching burglar alarm. My traveling partner and I quickly made a mad dash down the rue St. Honore and that was the end of my Parisian fashion career. Upon entering Kent State University's esteemed fashion program, I quickly realized by the end of my second year that maybe there were other plans for me. Sitting at that awful industrial sewing machine that I swear moved faster than light speed ended with me in tears. My roommate and college bestie would sit at her machine and pump out garment after garment while I struggled to thread the damn needle. Fashion illustration was also another bump in my stylish career. I've always been somewhat adept in the drawing and painting department, but fashion illustration I could never quite master. My models always looked deathly with giant lobster claws for hands. Of course the bestie never had a problem with this either. Her sketches were beautiful and fluid with all perfect hands. Ugh. Discouragement at its finest. Maybe a different path WAS inevitable. After trying to channel my creative energies into majors that were just, well, dry, I gave up alltogether. Soooo many years later I have found my niche. I have learned to redirect that manic creative energy into my other pop culture passion, vintage home decor. Surrounding myself with color and texture, size, shape and scale and of course little bits of history has renewed my sense of self. Finding my true path has been one of my greatest rewards and hey, I still get to shop for a living. Goodnight world. 

happy spring!

So here we are, spring! Yeah right. Last week's post left you with a recount of my beautiful day with 70 degree weather. Today's post, polar opposite I'm afraid. We were warned. The weather channel has talked about nothing else except snow, winter storm, falling temps, blah, blah, blah. Ok, so we have snow, so it's cold, so what. We live in the midwest. We should be used to this craziness by now. Move to Florida if you don't like it. There you have hurricanes and giant bugs. Forced to disconnect from all social media today due to the incessant weather complaints by the masses, I turned to last year's blog posts to assess the seasonal situation. Last year was quite a different story. Last year my pond was open, lilacs blooming, perennials green, you know real spring. The winter that passed was actually quite temperate considering our place on the map. So temperate in fact the general complaint was global warming. Well here we are, a year later and it's snowing. Global warming? Maybe, but really a normal late spring winter storm. I can remember one Easter toting my in-laws around in 5 heavy wet inches of snow that disappeared the very next day. This too shall pass. By the end of the week, this wet blanket of white stuff should be gone, my stunted crocii will be back to blooming and we will be one week closer to opening the pond, the windows, storing away the winter clothes, boots, blankets, and of course the snow shovels. Weather is fleeting and here in the midwest it is cold one day and searing hot the next. For today though, I am indulging in the laziness the weather allows me. Eventually I will take off my ugly robe, put on the boots and take one last walk in the snow with my child. Upon returning home I will make fresh coffee and since it seems appropriate, some warm pumpkin bread. I can indulge my senses in the last fading aromas of winter. For as I look out my window I can see the birds are back despite the snow, the trees are still budding and all too soon we will be complaining about the heat and wondering where we stashed that air conditioner. I believe you might find it next to the snow shovels. Good afternoon world.

sunny day

Time change, tiny blooming crocus, buds on my lilacs, not to mention the flocks of fowl sited in the park. All signs of spring! Yay, we're almost there! After waking to the sun yesterday morning and stepping outside to a much warmer temp than previous days I felt March had come in like a lamb. One can even smell spring as the ground and lake begin to thaw. Rushing to the babysitters than on to my estate score to haul my new vintage finds back to the store had the windows down and Lana Del Ray blasting from my car speakers. My husband following close behind most likely had his reggae of choice blasting from his car speakers. What a beautiful day only to be made brighter by my boxes of vintage Christmas, Easter, toys, coolers, bowling pins, glassware, etc. The colorful 1950's vinyl chairs and 1960's tiki rattan only added to the cheery day. By the time we arrived back at the shop the sun was out in full force and the temperature had climbed to almost 70. Lured by pictures of my haul, a girlfriend popped in and spent the next hour chatting outside in the sun while we lounged on the old rattan set. All we needed were umbrella drinks to make the moment even more perfect. After she left, with one of my chairs, I was bombarded for the next few hours with customers. Apparently the lions had been let out of the cage because my little city was hoppin'. People were everywhere! In this gray and gloomy city here in the "rust belt" we take what we can get. On its darkest day Cleveland is gritty and industrial, but when the sun shines it becomes an urban beach town. The lake positively sparkles and as the ice mounds break away and separate, the lake is as blue as the sky. Who couldn't find beauty in this midwest "mistake on the lake". I hate even using that old moniker so outdated that it is. Live here a few years and than tell me you don't take notice of all that is offered, but that is for another post. Today was just a beautiful sunny day and this city's residents were reveling in it. Hard work on a nice day makes me thirsty and after a text from my wild girlfriend, an impromptu evening al fresco had been arranged. Margaritas, burgers, and boys. Oh so many boys. Husband, boyfriend, and our 3 boys chasing chickens, grilling said burgers, lighting fires, and my favorite part of the evening, sending fiery Chinese paper lanterns into the dark night sky. Magical. Warm weather evenings with friends and children just make you feel good inside. It doesn't matter that my son had brownies for dinner or had chicken poo on his pants or had to be carried to the car crying because he was so tired he could barely stand. It was just a sunny day spent working hard with the wonderful reward of family, friends, and yes, a margarita or two at the end of it all. Goodnight world.

Relief

Well, here I sit again, brain buzzing with my new favorite Starbucks, ready to put it all out there in cyber space. As previously stated, wow, I can't believe this month is just about over. Thank God and Buddha. February has never been my favorite month. As a teen my mother would have to threaten and cajole just to get me out the door to school, so content was I to just lie in my bed. February sucks all the life out of me. It's gloomy, stagnant, cold, blah. I hate blah. This year as the clock rolled over to 2013 I decided there are two ways I can start out: I can be depressed and complain and worry about weather, money, health or I can take charge of these two worst months and tackle all my demons that wake me at three in the morning. Well of course there was a little of the former and a lot of the latter. Here in this gray city one can't escape winter without a little seasonal depression, but there were ways to combat mine. Running in the park, visiting the cold icy beach with hot coffee, walks in the muddy woods, reading an endless array of books, and just plain motivation. Motivation was my prozac. A grocery list of responsabilities that I was shucking because I hate paperwork and schlepping around from office to office was about to be conquered. Health plans were acquired, taxes were filed, scary bill taken care of, business name change put into action, furniture finally painted, exercise routine established. As a born procrastinator I have to fight this part of my personality in order to "get 'er done". God, I hate Larry the Cable Guy, but that saying is just so fitting. I even hung a big foreboding list just so I could cross each item off in order to feel accomplishment. Of course with each item deleted there seems to be a growing new list of "things to do", but this list is much less daunting, at least for now. For now I can feel relief over all those crossed off items. I can look in the mirror and see less of those holiday desserts. I can rest assured that if one of us gets hurt we have a place to go and have care. My shop is alive and colorful again with new merchandise and more coming. The government can leave me alone now for everything is filed. For now I can enjoy my evening reliving my teen years with my wild girlfriend drinking margaritas and rollerskating. Maybe not the best combination, but hey if I break anything at least I'm covered and February is over! Good morning world.

catching up

Wow! It's February already?!! What happened to January? I swear it blew by in a wintery rush. January was actually a really nice way to start off 2013. As stated in my previous post we were not in financial ruins this year due to the holiday hang over. The store had the most profitable January in years due to the many sales I ran just to get through the month. I also kept my shopping to the barest minimum so I could allow myself a quick and cold trip to the Big Apple. After not being there in a few years and going through the many tired catalogs and companies from which I usually order, I knew this trip was a neccessity. The gift show there in the big city is my favorite. Who am I kidding, it's the only one I frequent. Row after row of companies, thousands. A treat for the eyes and a big dent in my wallet. Well dressed and sometimes snooty owners and employees hawking their wares under the bright lights. Everyone excited for their line of jewelry, perfume, home design, linens, paper, you name it, it's there! I'm happy to say I returned home with a new stack of fresh catalogs and fun new merchandise ordered for the shop. Did I mention how much I adore New York City? It just gets under your skin with its manic energy and lightning pace. If I don't return every year I feel like something is missing. My cohort had never been before so I dragged her poor tukas all over mid town and beyond. Margaritas at Maya were the best I ever had. My third horse drawn carriage ride was still as fun and touristy as the first. Ice skating at Wollman Rink in Central Park was downright magical and the unexpected sighting of the Roosevelt Island Tram hanging from its wire had me running w camera/phone in hand. Our hotel though poo pooed by some was absolutely beautiful and luxurious, gotta love those travel sites for a good deal! Trains, planes, and automobiles to get to our plane home had us shoving airport cupcakes in our mouth just to gain back some energy. Note to self, never eat airport cupcakes. After my arrival home, I was comatose all of Monday followed by a sick child, than husband, and of course yours truly. We were also hit here in the midwest with a lovely snowfall that fell for days. Tucked in my bed, store closed, catching up on sleep, life was not too shabby. Now it is February. Rent will be late, but my bills are paid. Store is still slightly empty, but there are a few new fun items. Tomorrow I return to my running in the park, painting furniture, and finally cleaning up that nightmare behind my desk. You know, normal life. The upcoming months plan on being a blur of buying activity preparing for my first foray as a flea market seller. As you know, dear readers, I will be sharing my thoughts and anxieties as the date gets closer and I wonder what the Hell am I doing?! For the time being I will just try to survive February. There are no trips this month only rent and more bills, but that's okay, life could definitely be worse and this month, though it's not January is gratefully a short one. Good night world.

balance

Blissfully bumping along in my no worry day I was jolted back to reality by a call from the school nurse. Nothing stops a heart faster than fearing your child is hurt or worse. My mother always warned me of these feelings proclaiming, "you'll understand when you have children". Well now I have one, a boy and boy oh boy she wasn't wrong. It's bad enough fearing the phone call, but boys are just dumb. Boys do stupid things because that's just how they're made. They play with sticks and stones and jump off high things thinking they can fly. They wave shovels in the air and throw balls at windows all the while laughing their little dumb heads off. Oh sure it's funny until someone loses an eye or flips backward off a porch or gets hit in the neck with a stick. Good Lord, he is only 4. How the heck do I make it to his adulthood?  My husband tells me stories of all the dumb things he did as a boy and let me tell you, dumb! He used to launch dog poop from the end of a stick at people he didn't like, hide for hours from his poor screaming mother, jump off cliffs into the shallow lake, climb back up those same cliffs. He was a holy terror. Neighbors used to hide. If that's what's in store for this mom, God help me. After retrieving my child and getting him settled on the couch with heating pad and Tylenol(pulled neck muscle)I than retrieved today's mail. Please don't let there be anything suspect I pleaded to no one. Of course as fate loves to have it, a big threatening, I mean scary take care of asap bill. Great. You see yesterday I paid my store rent and paid for a work trip to New York City. Even though just an overnighter one of my favorite friends is joining me and I have fun things planned for the down time. A lot of I Love New York crammed into 48 hours. I was also making tentative plans to do some estate sale-ing this week with my partners in crime. So you can see I was happy. No worries. Bills were paid, so I thought. Financial plan for the next 6 months in order and now, yes, F*@# reality check. January is usually a month of despair for me. I usually enter this month with an overdrawn bank account and unpaid bills from the holiday frenzy. This was not to be in 2013. My husband and I were smart, dare I say thrifty this year when it came to gifts. Money got put in the bank not someone else's pocket. Life was on track, again or so I thought. See, I am a BIG believer in waiting for the other shoe to drop. For once, I wasn't thinking about the balance, I was just happy the scales were tipped in my favor. So I guess I got too big for my karmic britches because the shoe dropped hard. I suppose after writing it down it doesn't sound all that bad. My child is fine, the big scary bill will get paid, but in the heat of the moment when my stomach is flip-flopping all over the place, life feels sucky. I don't know what it is about my generation, but sometimes it feels like we all got a really bad turn. Trying to find balance in such an unstable environment is so tough, no wonder we are chasing yogis, and cleansing ourselves with disgusting juices and self-promoting only the happy times. Life is hard and ugly, but it is also beautiful and fabulous and if one can find the balance between the two than I guess we are ahead of the game. For me that would mean finding a little financial stability and a big plastic bubble in which to enclose my child. Since the latter is slightly unrealistic I suppose just being the best mother, wife, and friend that I can will have to suffice. Good evening world.

resolution

Well we survived, the end of the world that is. Happy new year my friends and fellow readers. It is a new year, new beginnings, new opportunities, what have you. I am just happy we are all still here. I know, I'm crazy for even thinking the end was near, but I tend to worry about the really dumb stuff that no one else does. Who am I kidding, I worry about everything. My husband was ready to deport me considering all the times I asked him if the world was going to end. Back when we got married I worried relentlessly about flesh-eating bacteria breakouts. See, crazy. Now my worries can just be about the daily minutae, so relieved am I. Soooo, a new year, which means new year's resolutions. Every year we make them to no avail. We are usually right back to smoking, eating, not exercising, even worrying, within a month.Well not this year! This year I am inspired to not make any resolutions.  I have decided that I like just who I am. Well sure I could be more patient, lose 5 lbs, not be so bossy, save my money better, but who couldn't? I have been trying for 42 years to be more patient. If it hasn't happened by now, well, there you go. They say( whoever "they" is) that life is what happens when you're not looking and I think I finally get this. Maybe it's my middle age or that I have wasted SO much time wishing for this and wishing for that, but when it comes right down to it, I am postively happy and content with this life. Maybe it's learning to choose your battles as you get older or maybe we DO get wiser. I don't know I just know that if we spend all our time trying to be this "perfect" person we are going to waste a LOT of this precious life we've been given. Age doesn't slow down and wait for us to figure it all out or get our shit together. As I sit here at my counter listening to my child and Dora playing in the background, eating my homemade banana bread after just cleaning my grimy kitchen, I am content. Life really is this simple. Yes, I need to get on the treadmill, get back to work, the norm, but for now I'll take this for a few more days. I am going to rest, recharge, and not look at my bank account. I am going to clean and bake and play with my child in the snow. I am not going to think about all the things I could try to change because as stated above I like the person I've become and have enjoyed all the roads I've traveled to find that person. Good afternoon world.

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.