New Year's Resolutions: Bah Humbug

Not one for making or keeping a New Year's Resolution because they set you up for failure. Many, many years ago with good intentions my list of resolutions made it into my journal. Wholeheartedly and wishful thinking, I put admirable and at best unachievable goals like lose 20 pounds by Valentine's Day. Uggg, 20 pounds less would put me in the hospital. Or dump the cheating boyfriend, find a boyfriend. Or quit smoking. Or fit into a size eight tight fit CK jeans. All unrealistic and doomed to fail except maybe the cheating boyfriend.

I did eventually quit smoking without a New Year's resolution and I did lose the 20 pounds only to get them back in my forties. It is not to say do not try, by all means do. It's been said the more times tried any one particular goal eventually will lead to success. Like changing your career, how doing you know it will succeed? You don't. We all need goals in much of anything we do, however; with all the hype that starting a new year with a list of them don't you think it's a bit much. Start a goal anytime of the year. I quit smoking in the month of August with no much fanfare but a deep rooted determination. I lost 30 pounds before, during and after the holidays and dumped the cheating boyfriend in the fall of 1988.

Any day is a good day to achieve a goal. New Year's can be one of them but there are 364 other days to choose from too.

Happy Holidays

As the holiday rush comes to an end, all last minute gifts and errands done or so I hope so, why not reflect on the past year. With the loss of my dad I gained maturity. With a marriage to my longtime love I gained a husband, whom I love with all my heart. My boys are one year older. This time 13 years ago, we traveled to spend Christmas with my family in the Northeast only to travel back hours later when my water broke exactly at midnight Christmas Eve. Two days later my son was born, yes I said two days later on Boxing Day.

The biggest change for the better is me. In the span of a year, I matured into a woman. Someone I sought for a long time but who was there all along. I am happy and a heck of a lot smarter. I love me. This coming year is going to be great for my career which appears to be heading in the right direction, my boys are healthy and my husband is terrific. A girl could ask for no more but I will. As we welcome Christmas this year I am filled with gratitude for my wonderful family, my health and the health of my family, our home and life. Have a wonderful holiday from me with tons of love.

Pet Peeve #2: I'm just saying.......

"I'm just saying..................." ranks second in my list of pet peeves. Please say it rather than just saying it. This morning in two seperate occasions I heard "I'm just saying.............." annoying me. Really, instead of taking the back door to your making a point and hiding behind the "I'm just saying..." speak up and say what's on your mind. We are too politically correct today muffling the real intent of our message. So instead of just, be confident enough to put forth your view.

Barack Obama

Today as I retrieved my car keys from the parking attendants, one asked if I was of Middle East descent. I smiled, lifted my sunglasses and asked if I indeed still looked Middle Eastern and both men nodded yes. Aside from the "you're so beautiful" comments today, tally being 3 so far, amused I chuckled for being mistaken for someone else. For the shy girl from a small town to a woman told she was beautiful not once but three times in one day, it felt good. As I enjoyed the banter amongst the parking attendants, I revealed to them that I was, in fact, not Middle Eastern but Native American. The guy handing me the keys said it was a great day to be an American. The other said “God Bless America” and remarked, "It's a good day for America, now people around the world are a little less apprehensive towards America.” He gently touched my arm saying “they’re reputation is not good in many places, you know.” Both men, I learned were European: one Kurdish from Georgia/Russia and the other Middle Eastern. As I walked to my car, the Turkish attendant continued to comment on how great Obama won the election and how his presidency would change the world. Like me, Barack Obama represents hope and change for people around the world not only in the United States, in particular minorities. His win last night touched the hearts in the global community and sent a message of optimism in our trying times. I drove away smiling and waving to the gentlemen feeling the same sentiment. God Bless us all.

Silver Linings

There is a notion called a “Silver Lining” meaning when something goes wrong or something bad happens, something good comes out of it. Today, as I drove home on the freeway, I reminded myself of this notion. Moments earlier, I stepped out of a meeting that didn’t go as planned, a proposal I waited for almost a year to present did not meet the approval I hoped. In the first ten minutes or so, I maintained my composure, smiled and politely thanked people for their time. Thirty minutes later, clutching the steering wheel, my mind raced looking for answers and the notion of a “Silver Lining” popped into my head. Aha, I thought, there is a “Silver Lining” in all this. Instead calling a colleague to complain, I convinced myself the “Silver Lining" lures in the unknown, it’s here, close, nearby, I can almost put my finger on it. Maybe not today or tomorrow but soon the “Silver Lining” will show up, probably when I least expect it. It could be my time will be so consumed with other more important projects leaving no time for new ones or I’ll be on vacation for an extended period of time in Hawaii with my family. Maybe, this time next week my column will go in syndication leaving little time for anything else. Whatever the case, I am feeling much better already.

The Ex and the Obituary

The Ex and the obituary. One day during another animated day of revelation chit chat with Ria, the Queen of BJ's, I asked if her ex-husband was still alive. Why did I query her exes mortality? In recent conversations his name came up as an wife abuser, drug addicted, alcoholic, loser, etc. Get the picture. A not so nice guy. A life so fuel infested with trouble cannot sustain a healthy existence and I wondered aloud if he was alive? Like the movie "Enough" or "Sleeping with the Enemy" the bad guy gets his due in the end, to the delight of women everywhere, especially those abused women. With this in mind, I figured this guy met his demise.

She chuckled with her shoulders and she replied in her witty and affable demeanor: "Everyday I read the obituaries and have not come across his name yet." For a woman of sixty-five who married at sixteen and had five children by twenty-two and divorced the same year, she is by far the wittiest person that came across my plate. She is a chapter onto herself.

The Ex and the obituary. Or instead of op-ed called it op-dead for First Wives clubs. Reading the obituaries will never be the same.

Patricia Mary Shelly, the neighbor from hell

The other day without notice my ugly nosy imposing neighbor showed up uninvited. Every time I see this lady she gets on my nerves, under my skin and puts me in a foul mood. It's not until it's past the point of overstaying her welcome does she depart. The remains of her visit are tension that you can cut with a knife and a slew of unkind remarks, mostly directed at Hot Husband. Not only does she criticize everything he does but at times is even short with my boys. If she is particularly feisty she picks on my sisters. This woman is unrelenting and she comes around monthly. Before I realize it, she is spinning out of control in my home. For the longest time her unexpected visits took me by surprise. Only while cleaning up the emotional debris she left behind did I figure her out.

Better equipped to tackle her, the moment she is in the vicinity I let Hot Husband know and pop a couple of Midols. Her name is PMS or Patricia or Mary or Shelly. Her name is not what matters, it's her onslaught of emotional yo-yo"ing" she puts me through. In my twenties and even my early thirties Patricia Mary Shelly didn't visit often. The times she graced me with her presence were subdued compared to now. For the past five years or so, Patricia Mary Shelly reeks havoc once a month in my home. From hot to cold emotions, self-pity episodes to chocolate craving, PMS creeps up and visits for one to three days, always uninvited. Only close to her departure do I realize the havoc she causes. I promise Hot Husband advance notice when she visits but most times she's unexpectedly arrives.

To combat her intrusiveness I focus on the present constantly reminding myself she visits only once a month. Recognizing some of the symptoms early helps too. As many can attest the real issue is that ugly neighbor Patricia Mary Shelly shows up unexpected and uninvited, sometimes instantly, leaving little room for preparation. Lately I am able to shorten her visits and lessen her spew by checking the calendar and being vigilant with positive thoughts and a keen sense of awareness. And Midol. Have a great day.

BJ's

I only encountered two women who truly enjoy giving blow jobs and proud of it. One is fictional, Samantha Jones from Sex In The City and Ria, an old employee I ran into today. Samantha Jones loves giving head. I remember tuning into Sex in the City years ago to see what all the hype was about only to watch her give a blow job. I gave the show another try only to find Samantha below the belt again. Queasy and a little uncomfortable I tuned out until the last season of the show. The prude in me came out. Today, as a group of women from twenty to sixty five years of age chatted, Ria spoke candidly about her genuine pleasure in giving head. Initially, a little taken back but not as prudish, I listen as she narrated her sexual habits to us. Looking around for us to add in, I mentioned to Ria my sex life was private and not for sharing but by all means continue. My image of her shattered on this late blossoming fall day and I let her know it. Once thought of as meek and gentle now turned into 60 year old version Samantha Jones. She went on to tell how she got a free pizza on a bet. This one I am not kidding came straight from her mouth.... At a house party years ago, the group decided to order pizza and she bet it would be free. As the pizza arrived she answered the door nude to the stunned delivery boy's delight, explaining she didn't having any money on hand. He nervously fidgeted from foot to foot, she offered to give him a blow job in exchange for the pizza, caught completely off guard he put his hands up in despair, declined her offer, gave her free pizza and left. She won the bet and went on the give head to the host. To the delight of most men, blow jobs are one of the ultimate sexual pleasures. For women I imagine it's like doing the laundry, it sucks, literally, but someone has to do it. For a lot of us it's a great bargaining tool!

Best Teacher Ever

Do you have a favorite teacher? National Teachers Day always makes me think of my past teachers and the favorite ones. I have many, my grade two teacher Mrs. Montour, my grade five Mrs. Goodleaf, my coolest ninth grade Ms. McInerny, my tenth Mr. Mills, the list goes on. But the best teacher is one who gave me the piece of advice: "Keep it short, people like short and sweet" and "You can do anything you want as long as you put your mind to it." Her impact on me spans my lifetime, she is my mom. One of the wisest women of her era, many would agree. She told me things at a young age I didn't want to understand and made choices for me I thought were cruel at the time. But here I am keeping things short and sweet and finally realizing when I put my mind to it I can do anything. Thanks mom.

Get out of your own way!!!

As Wall Street tumbles and world markets shake, I recall a speech Warren Buffet gave at an east coast university years ago: "Everybody here has the ability to do anything I do and much beyond. Some of you will, and some of you won't. For those who won't, it will be because you get in your own way, not because the world doesn't allow you to." He basically says "get out of your own way" and I wonder if that's the case today. Are we a generation in our own way?

Picking sides..........

I think one of the worst things to realize we unintentionally pick sides with our children. This morning as I car pool boys to school for an early Ultimate Frisbee practice (Really, I'll get to ridiculous sports one day soon, promise) my boys fight over radio stations and who’s turn it is. For the first five minutes, I take in all the bickering and use my proven fairness technique of "The Five Minute Rule". The “Five Minute Rule” enacted this summer to instill fairness among my boys and maintain my sanity in our hour-long ride to the cottage. Two minutes into the rule the Red, older one, unfasten his seat belt in a moving vehicle to change channels. His irate behavior is noticeable in his face as he leans into the front seat to switch channels. Oh course I freak out and advise him to buckle up. Somewhere is this little skirmish transference occurs and I am the irate referee not car-pool mom. Firm and authoritative I drive the endless meandering streets of our small city on route to school. Red attempts on more than one occasion to blow off the rule and use his encyclopedia of reasoning and whining to get Top 20 on 20 on the airwaves. Unintentionally, I pick sides with my little one barking back to Red five minutes is not up knowing were into minute seven. Ugh. Only after the hundredth stop sign did the thought cross my mind I am choosing sides here. Hit me with the red bricks of his school, poor Eli, our carpool boy, must endure Red's mom so early in the morning. Busted. I pick sides by letting my little one listen to his 24/7 Emergency Alert channel for twice as long. Unintentionally though? Or so I think. Red is right all along when he cries I pick sides, admittedly not always for the same son. This morning I unintentionally do it again. Or was it intentional? Whatever the case I sit for a moment in the drop off lane and question my motives. No sooner, did it register, the doors fly open, book bags moving and the boys depart. Quickly, exiting the car and I trail behind them feeling like a heel. What a terrible mom I am? How could I pick side with my own kids? I did this with Hot Husband too. He brings it to my attention often enough. Is it fair to pick sides with your own children? I can see how easier it is with other children but with my own, ugh. This is something I will not share with my boys but intend on fixing. As a wise elder once said “some things are better left unsaid” and I plead the fifth when my sanity depends on it. Have a great day…

Asking the dead

I often wonder in minute situations my mother's opinion and surely I am not alone on this one. Like today, I could use her advice on a home remedy for my little one's cold? Or does she have a secret ingredient for chicken soup. Sometimes I forget if she even made chicken soup. My mother died almost twenty years ago and not a day goes by when I think of her or need to ask her a question. I have five doe sisters but it doesn't add up to a mother's touch. A service for asking the dead is needed. Your deceased loved one just a call away! What a cool invention, no offense to the channelling your spirit industry. Being able to call your dead mom for a quick chat is a novel idea. My Doe's offer advice all the time: some good, some idiotic and some not warranted but really some things are better broached with your mom, dead or alive. Especially the non-judgemental and motherly words because face it mothers are also over bearing, opinionated, and sometimes nosy. By the way, I make a yummy chicken soup and my son is back to school healthy and lively as any seven year old. Right about now he is proving my point as he litters the snack wrapper wondering what his mom would think if she knew. Mother's opinions are warranted not necessarily always right but welcomed but in my case.

Kids and money

Last night my son sorted coins from piggy bank, making a racket, I entered his room, looking at his bed the coins rested in the pleats and rumbles of the comforter. He explained a unique way of tallying up his coins. As I exited the money-counting scene, he asked to join me on the next trip to the grocery store. This morning he asked the same thing, retorting back I reminded him it was a boring chore to grocery shop, he insisted. He wanted use a Coin Redeemer contraption at the customer service counter. Aha, I thought. What is the motive behind this sudden need for cash, I wondered? After he left for school, it was still on my mind. Did my son want to buy something? If so, what? Moreover, why not ask me? Or did he just want spending money? The idea of money was beginning to form more concretely in my son’s mind. Always a great saver, I noticed lately coins in his pocket, occasionally riding his bike to the corner store to buy candy. One day I sat him down and made it clear it was his money but needed my permission to spend it, hoping to teach great money habits. Therefore, this morning’s conversation puzzled me. But as I thought about it more things began to add up. Over the summer, he mentioned things a famous rocker owned. He talked about cribs of the rich and famous and what he would buy with a million dollars. Dirt bike, ATV, BB Gun, and a Sport Car. Being a smart kid, he understood the material disparity between our life and theirs. It was this particular sense of disparity that concerned me. I knew disparity quite well. Growing up, disparity was a huge focus for me. I noted it everywhere and not only monetarily. I noted in love, family, belongings, intellectually and even physically. I knew how it affected a person’s confidence and worth. Knowing how damaging it could become, I did not want it taking too space in his life.

I really wanted to tell him money does not indicate your worth. Where and when did he get such ideas? From me. From his dad. From his friends. Knowing it did not necessarily come from just one source, I found an area that blinded my son into believing money makes the man. Reality Television. Reality television showcases people doing just about anything for money, like: eating bugs, selling their dignity, dancing, tattooing, and living in the jungle. We are in the midst of a era where the younger generation want fame believing to some extent its equivalent to money, thus equivalent to happiness. Once they have the money, the tendency viewed is it is an end all to everything. Money is naming us, making us do silly things, undignified things; we’re letting money be our ticket. To where? To MTV, to mansion full of disposable material items, to a shallow life based on such an intangible item like money. Reality shows fail to show, for ratings of course, the downside of fame and money. There is no footage of maintaining fame or the costs of sustaining a highly publicized lifestyle. In reality, fame and money more often than not messes up a young person’s life. Proof. Read today’s Page Six in the New York Post on a young oil heir’s problems maintaining such an extravagant lifestyle. I want to tell my son “look at this young man.” I do not want him disillusioned by popular culture, not to equate happiness with money, fame, or material things.

I want him to know money is only one aspect of life. Being a good person tops the list. In my son’s life, I constantly show him all the other aspects of importance like family, school, sports, love and helping others. It is every mother’s dream to raise their children with good morals and values. Distressing as it may, reality television tantalizes my son like many other young teenagers in North America. Recently, my husband blocked out channels, specifically MTV and limited television viewing. Whether we like it or not, access to popular culture not only exists on television but on the internet, at school and amongst friends to name a few. It’s going to be part of their life in one aspect or another, being our own reality television show of sorts by showing your child love, respect, equality and the art of giving not taking is a start. Deep down my son knows the truth or the reality of life because as I write this he is at school helping somebody with something. One of his many endearing qualities………

"Just Knowing" copyrighted DoeSister 2008

Did you ever just know something? Call it intuition, your gut, or just knowing, the label is not important but the meaning is. Intuition according to the New Webster dictionary means quick and ready insight or my definition: just knowing.
Most people experienced intuition on some level in their lifetime and some use it quite often. From business people to mothers, intuition plays a vital role in our lives. I can honestly admit to using it a third of the time. I remember years ago using an exercise from Laura Day’s book titled Practical Intuition for a job I had applied for. At the time, I had my resume out for two positions but one I really wanted. I did the exercise and wrote down in detail the job even noting the color of the paint in the lobby. About a month later I was in the neighborhood and decided to pass by the office. To my astonishment the paint was the same color I noted. Now months later, there on business I had the opportunity to visit first hand. I did intuitively get the paint colors correct for the next door office and albeit I had taken the other job I applied for. I thought I was using intuition but I wasn’t experiencing its full power. Looking closer at this ; I recognize that I was getting a job even better than the one I longed for, in the same environment I wanted and even better hours.
Just knowing things are going to work out is intuition. Just knowing the right thing to do is intuition. Just knowing everything will be okay is intuition.
For women, it’s been labeled mother’s instinct, for men their gut feeling. At this moment hundreds of men on the trading floors of stock exchanges and brokerage firms are using their own version of intuition. Even famous people, like Albert Einstein and Oprah use it and I bet even Warren Buffet. I have this theory of Warren Buffet just knowing. It goes something like this if I can put it into words because I just know. Buffet’s approach to investing has intrigued many, while most investing today is done short term, his approach to it is long term or termed value investing. How did he know a stock like Coke would grow to what it is today? I call it “just knowing.” Instead of looking to the immediate I think Buffet uses his intuition and believes these companies would exponentially grow, this my friend is called “Just Knowing.” I am not inferring his entire fortune rests on intuition but I would guess a large percentage is bestowed on it.
“Knowing just Knowing” is trusting yourself enough to regard those gut feelings or intuition that is in you, in everybody. Like just knowing I will have a great day, bye.

Feeling Good

Today I choose to feel good.

Is it not one of the simplest statements and yet one of the hardest to accomplish?

When you think about how many times in a day you feel good, think again. Try to recall how many times your thoughts wander into not so "good thought" territory? Like right now, are you thinking about what to make for dinner, how your kids are doing at school, is your sister still pissed at you? In fact, in a span of less than a minute you could have up to 100 not so good thoughts. Try this, in one day, in a morning, in an hour or in ten minutes, count how many times you feel good and how many times you feel bad. You really need to monitor closely and at times it can be quite challenging. For example, you're driving to work and the traffic is almost non-existent, you feel great that your actually traveling past 30 mph on the freeway. But then you think, is there something wrong? Where are all the morning commuters? Is today a holiday? OMG I sent my kids to school on a holiday? You call your husband to see what day it really is? This my friend is not feeling good. On top of that, it could have all transpired in less than a minute. So instead of embracing the moment and enjoying it, you allowed your thoughts to trail off into the abyss of negative ones.


Is it just too hard to feel good all the time? For a reformed pessimist it used to be. Now, I train my thoughts to feeling good. Great news. Currently, I keep a conscious note of feeling good and I must admit at times it too is challenging. In the span of writing this blog, my thoughts are all over the place and I continually bring them back to the idea of sharing my little tidbit for today is a good thing. Then I smile. The results have lunged me into the good spectrum of the rainbow and is quite noticeable by HH (Hot Husband). So much so, not long ago, he gave a toast to me in front of a group of our closest friends and family. He talked about how much I changed for the better and he was so sincere and gracious I smiled as it brought me to tears.
So, yes it is possible to feel good most of the time. All of the time is quite another endeavour. I still need the odd time to get pissed, feel bad and or angry. I have not mastered utopia like the Dali Lama or Mother Theresa. Plus, I feel great trying. :)

Back To School

Today is a big day in my household, my boys are back to school and HH (Hot Husband) has a full schedule this week. Yippeee!!! I feel a little guilty saying that or in this case writing it but it's true. For the first time in two months I get quiet and stillness in my home. I am a creature of this, always was and always will be. The anxiety of the first day of school showed on my face and my body, I had pep in my stride to the bus stop as my boys less than eagerly trudge their way. I was smiling inside and out. I had their lunches made before they were up, I set my alarm for an early 6:00 am start, coaxed HH out of bed and reminded him the horrible first day back to school traffic. My eagerness today turned out rather annoying for some by the look my older son shot at me as I skipped down the front stairs on our way to the bus stop. In previous years, I was despondent on the first day of school seeing my boys off, missing them before they even left for school, I cried on many occasions feeling my boys were growing up to fast, but mostly was the fact that I didn't spend enough time with them during summer vacation. They spent it with someone else, like a sitter or at camp, and it should have been spent with me, I am their mother. It was the Mother Guilt(MG). Today, it's still here camouflaged by the extra wide smile on my face on the first day of school. There is a tinge of MG sadness my smile tries to erases it but it lurks, right there in the corner where the fresh pink and delicate skin of my upper lip meets my glowing complexion, It's there like an eye tick or a tiny flutter but you need to look very closely. Maybe use a magnify glass.
But mostly, I am happy and exhilarated that I am home alone and have time to myself, which is quite necessary for most people. So what am I going to do with all my time? Hmmmmhhh. Write, read and do a few errands, relax and just enjoy the moments of solitude.

"The In Between"

The other night over dinner conversation with my BBF and her husband, my HH (Hot Husband) began discussing middle age health issues asking his counterpart if he too questioned his own vitality. HH said each ache and pain he felt did just that! In his thirties, he just brushed off such things now it plagued him, so much so, lately he began reading the obituaries focusing on the age of the deceased. Noting the age of the deceased were getting closer to his in some cases. My BBF who had a serious condition years ago said she too felt like that each time she felt malaise. Agreeing with her, I said for the past year worry filled me too. I had pain in one of my breasts. I chuckled for the first time revealing the pain I felt was from the under wire in my bra, different bra, different pain in addition my recent weight gain was the culprit. Did I mention my cleavage and wonderment at my breast size, I'll save that for another time.

Then one of the most touching things I heard came from my BBF's husband. He cautioned HH not to think of life like that and gave a version of life that I will always hold dear to me. Here goes, his version goes something like this: he said we come into life and leave life the same way; in a pile of shit hoping someone will clean, it's a fact of life and death that the two are inevitable. So, don't waste your life worrying about the things you cannot change: birth and death, enjoy the "in between". He recalled a time while driving his Dad, who recently died, somewhere and his dad said his life was crap now that he was sick. That it was not so, he accomplished so much in life and pointed it out all the things "in between". How could he say that, it was not true, he lost sight of the fact that his life was full. So BBF's husband told Hot Husband enjoy the "in between" because you know the ending, you don't know the date, but you knowing the ending so enjoy the "in between".

Those are words to live life by.

"Just What I Needed"

Yesterday, as I stood in my kitchen a great lightening bolt moment came to me for a post, I intended to write it down but was lost in the chaos of leaving for the water park with the boys. So a great story is somewhere in my kitchen for me to catch one day. But always with something to say or share here is an inspiring and uplifting book I came across by fluke and truly struck a chord within me. I read this great book, from cover to cover, on a ferry ride across Lake Champlain the other week titled "Just Who Will You Be?" by Maria Shriver. I seen her on Oprah on the odd day I lay in bed in the afternoon. She spoke about her upbringing in the Kennedy clan, her commitment to contribute to the family legacy and striking out on her own in a career as a television journalist. Then she got to the part that made me sit upright and listening more closely. It was at the time her husband became the Governor of California and her world started to crumple. She was fired from her job and felt completely lost for the first time in her life. No longer was she something of substance. Her children reminded her she was unemployed and just a stay at home mom and in public, she was the First Lady of California and so on. With no career she felt identity"less". As a driven person most of her life, she was now fifty-two, label"less" and lost. Then her nephew asked her to speak at his graduation, after numerous refusals she relented and spent sometime trying to figure out what to say. In that time she discovered she was finding out about herself too. She asked "Just who will you be?" to the graduating class but more personally to herself. After fifty-two years, she was surprised to asked a herself that very same thing. There is a time in every one's life they ask that same question, I felt elated that I was only 43 years old and had a good ten years on Mrs. Shriver. However, fundamentally, I was awed that she felt that too. I spent the last couple of years asking that question to myself, albeit, in other words. She to needed to reassess her life just like me. What a powerful and thought provoking read for anyone in the midst of a career change or life change. Although, I felt okay questioning my existence and pretty darn sure at the time on the ferry what I wanted to do, her book gave the "more power to you" feeling and it was "Just What I Needed".

Summer Vacations

I survived!! It's hard to believe there are less than two weeks left of summer vacation and I am here to write about it. As a freshman of sorts, staying home with my boys for the summer is one of the best things I did in my life. I spent the first part of the summer trekking back and forth from the local pool, dodging the rain each day. Hot husband had a four week vacation that began week two of summer vacation. By the final week of his vacation we were close to divorce. Spending every waking hour together was nerve racking and tense by week three of his vacation. Let me say I was happy to have him home and happy to see him back to work. Next summer, I plan on spending two weeks at home during his vacation and the other two weeks out of town. One month into summer vacation, my boys were getting bored and on my nerves. I was running out of things to do and wondering if it was too late to sign them up for camp...... One day I had a brilliant plan to spend the day on the waterfront downtown and enjoy some of the attractions, we were taking the train into the city but missed it. So already behind schedule, I raced to the waterfront and paid dearly with a speeding ticket bigger than my monthly car payment and more demerit points than I wish to share. None the less at the end of the day, we had a great time and all was forgotten about my traffic violation. Next summer I know to plan better for activities and consider summer camp for the boys to hang out with kids their age. Here's to the last days of summer, surviving, and to my sanity.

Fudge

There's this cute saying on a fridge magnet I bought for one of my sister's that went something like this: "Families are like fudge, very sweet but with a few nuts" I tend to agree. Don't get me wrong, I love my family as much as the next person but I can understand why many people move away and just start their own life. Family is a constant, a given, friends are chosen. I like many moved away physically and until recently, emotionally. No harm intended but a well deserved vacation from my reactionary emotions when I am around certain family members.
I had this friend in college who had a tenacious relationship with her parents, she just thought they we at times awful. I recall one time over dinner she accused her father of loving me more than her, I could have crawl under a rock than be put in the middle of her tantrum with her family. She was at the time twenty! I thought how immature was that and feeling quite mature. Aha!! Twenty years later, I see her point and I completely understand. Like Maria Shriver's book title :"Just Who Will You Be" when you grow up. She was fifty-two, I was forty-two. Just who will you be when you grow up. I will be a person with an opinion, a person with a priorities of her own, a person who will decide what she wants to be not what is expected of her, a woman with a career she loves and best of a great wife, mother, sister and person.

Summer

Into week five of summer vacation? Have I lost my mind yet? Not quite but certainly I need a mini-vacation. This full-time mom stuff is hard work. I am camp referee, camp counselor, camp superintendent, camp, bait person, fish line De-tangler, and mother!! Last week we went to the cottage for the first time this year and it was grueling. First off, it was quite painful to be there without my dad and knowing he would not show up mid-way through our vacation like he normally did, he past away months earlier and he left a big void in my life. That on top of mothering my two plus two cousins. Preparation, Preparation, Preparation. I needed at least another half day to prepare and verify all was packed because my son supposedly couldn't find the UNO cards perfect for rainy days and long evenings in the wilderness, younger son ran short of clothing, and our food supply was scant. On the brighter side, my younger son caught the biggest trout of the trip and the biggest one in years. The smile on his face was priceless, just thinking of his smile and all the it said makes me smile. He lit up the cloudy day on the shore of the brook. He beamed with pride and rubbed it in to the others that he caught the biggest fish. I forgot my camera ^*&%$^$^%$. But Hot Husband heard our screams of joy from the cottage and made his way to investigate the ruckus. Another day as we were changing into swimsuits, wails of screams and cries echoed in the musty humid second floor bedrooms, then three kids stampeded to my room, hiding behind me like a monster was in the cottage. Surprisingly, there was, a chipmunk jumped out from behind one of their beds! My boys immediately got into hunting mode so naturally, it took me aback. They had fishing nets and proceeded to catch the rodent to the girls delight. The thunder of their feet echoed now and the rampage down the stairs made the second floor move to the beat of their feet. And as fast as they ran down stairs was as fast as the little bugger ran upstairs freeing itself from the nets. Then I seen the bravery in my boys that was so clear, my little not flinching a bit and my older one, with such authority written across his face, chasing the chipmunk around the the rooms, only to have the girls flinch,scream in terror and hang on to their aunt for dear life. I reminded them, they were a hundred times bigger than the chipmunk and he was terrified of them!! That fell to deaf ears as they clenched my arm so fierce, I thought Oh, this is what men feel when we're in labor holding their hands. Poor guys!!! The screams were so loud my ears hurt. As I calmed them down, my boys capture the monster and put him outside, never to return to such a chaotic place again. The children were sad to leave and begging to stay a few more days, hot husband said one more day but I had it, I wanted to go home, go from four kids to two and sleep in my own comfy bed. We will return in the weeks to come with back up in the form of adults and more alcohol. So now I am on to the next adventure. Up until now, I have spent five consecutive weeks with my children and it's great, four week with Hot Husband and that a blast. So as we leave to yet another leg of summer vacation, you read it here, I am having the best time. Catch up later.

Birthday Horoscope

As I was browsing the Internet I seen an ad for horoscopes and it reminded me about this idea I had to write my own birthday forecasts. You see, tomorrow I will turn 43 years young and I recall reading the horoscopes on my birthday for a glimpse at the year ahead. I revelled the idea and was lured by the fact it could contain a road map of my life for the upcoming year. It was great until it didn't quite pan out as written. Put it this way, the entertainment purpose wore off and that's when I decided to write my own horoscope. It lasted a short while until I decided to begin my day with a deliberate intent on how I wanted the day, month or year to be. So, my year ahead forecast, as I intend it, is as follows: it will be fun filled and wonderful. I will enjoy my family and friends, and make some new ones along the way. As the sun rises each day I will be grateful for all that I have. Romance will be play a big part until one on my kids yell "Mom". I will laugh and be merry and sometimes cry and be sad but mostly laugh and be merry. The year ahead sees me moving into a new home and new job. Yippee. Also, I will receive a windfall of money, beyond my wildest dreams. My book will be published and I will travel to an exotic location with hot hubby. All in all it will be a great year because I intend it to be. Happy Birthday to me.

Independence Day

Happy 4th of July America. Independence Day. Freedom.

As I give thanks for the independence and freedom we have in the western world, it makes me think why there is not a day to celebrate one's own personal independence. Independence of thinking and thoughts, independence of consciousness. What I am getting at is I choose to celebrate each and every day for ME. But there should be a national holiday celebrating just being. Yes, we all have birthdays to commemorate of age but we need a day to celebrate just being. A Being Me Day or Me Day. A day of celebrating yourself and all that you are. A day to celebrate all the stuff that makes you unique. Uniqueness Day!! Nah. Me Day!!! A day to celebrate who you are as an individual, who you are as a person. A day to revel in yourself more so than spending a day at the spa. A day you would list all the great things about yourself. A day at work and at home, you would need to list one of your best qualities on the and celebrate it.

I just think we give so much attention to how we are viewed by ourselves and others that a day to celebrate just being ourselves without the identification or labels could do us well. I could see this going over well in the board rooms across the world. LOL. But seriously, it's an honest suggestion. Enjoy your freedom today as a country and if you can as yourself.

D & G

Dolce and Gabbana. Doom and Gloom. D & G. I was recently asked by a family member, quite seriously, if our family was plagued with dilemmas. I asked " Like a black cloud hovering and moving with our every move" She didn't agree with the black cloud syndrome, so I blurted out "You mean D & G, Doom & Gloom, ". She didn't quite get what I was inferring. I chuckled a bit and admitted I once thought the same of our family. Before I go any further my immediate family is the size of a small country so statistically speaking we are bound to have clusters of shall we say dilemmas: good or bad. Quizzically, I asked what she meant by dilemmas? It turns out she has the D & G glasses on - or how I put it - the "Doom & Gloom" glasses. I said it was a matter of perspective and explained that I noted this years ago coming to terms with my own D & G syndrome. Being passed down from generation to generation we got emotions filled with blame, unhappiness and melancholy as commonplace. Oh there was joy, cheery filled days and just as you experienced this some one from my maternal side of the family couldn't live with the fact that we were enjoying life would come and mar the situation with their brand of D & G. At the time I didn't understand that misery likes company and formulated my own D & G traits. The probability was inevitable. Back to my doe sister who is a couple of years younger and much wiser I believe in areas didn't truly accept my interpretation, so I put it like this: "If all you ever see is the bad in a situation, people or things guess what? That's what your going to get in life". I reminded her there are so many good things in our family. If you look for the good you will find the good. It may not be biblical in proportion but its there: true goodness.

Years ago, I took responsibility and realized there was more to life than the dark side. I filled my heart and mind with positive energies, read countless self help books and one day realized I am in charge of my life. Really, really, really in charge of my own life. I cannot say it has been all easy, there are times less often then before where D & G creeps back up. But I changed my perspective and decided to ditch the D & G for pure joy, you can call it PJ.

Smoking

This weekend I was over at one of the Doe's and noticed she drop a cigarette on the ground. For a split second I thought about picking it up and lighting it. Miraculously, the moment immediately shifted into my non-smoker mode. One hot and humid afternoon three years ago I decided to have my last cigarette. I was tired of smoking. There were several reasons I wanted to quit: the smell, the time consuming habit, my health, my kids but the main reason I just didn't enjoy it and knew it was a stupid habit. Like many other people I used an array of techniques from the patch to laser but I lapsed each time. So after dishing out my hard earned money on laser treatment that worked for about three months, I grudgingly made a deal with myself to smoke and at the same time be conscious of my actions. I felt the physiological and sensual effects of smoking. I internalized these feelings and one day with not much fanfare quit. I can vividly recall mentioning to my colleagues during a break "This is my last cigarette!!"
I haven't looked back until yesterday if only for a brief moment. I trained my brain to not have cravings, not have mood swings and to develop a circuitry loop in my head that skips over smoking. It worked!!! I often asked my late Dad how he quit smoking, being a heavy smoker for about fifty years. He retold me the story as many times as I asked, he had a bout of pneumonia and was bed-ridden for weeks. According to him, "God-damn sickest I ever been #$@#!&&&" and thanks to him I incorporated his approach into my quest to be a non-smoker. So I think to quit is all in your head or more precisely in your thoughts. If you overlook the self-defeating ones, focus on being healthy and learn to train your brain to leave behind all other thoughts related to the yukky habit: smoking is but a memory. Oh, and I didn't have any cravings or mood swings. I found many pharmaceutical and other medicinal cessation techniques for me were a crutch and masked the true culprit me. To overcome the urge, I needed to do it in my head. It may not work for everybody but did for me and my late dad. So hears to Hot Husband on his quest to join the ranks of healthy non-smokers. xoxoxo

Changing Careers

For the past couple of years I realized I didn't like what I was doing. I recall mentioning this to a friend over lunch and taken back at what just came out of my mouth. From that point on I knew it to be true. At this point in my life, my career morphed into something I didn't like but stayed for the financial benefits. About a month ago in a crisis meeting, my mouth opened and words came out. It was like out of body or out of mind experience. I listened as I spoke the words of my resignation. Was I crazy giving up a excellent paying job with great flexibility and great vacation time? The vision of staying home for the summer with my boys was looming in the forefront of my thoughts. I truly believe my ego put them there to avoid a meltdown of tears in front of my boss. I could not believe I was leaving. I handed my keys and files over to the boss, lingered literally minutes and walked out. Walked out. Hot husband knew I was unhappy and urged me to tough it out a couple of months or until I lined up a new job. My conscious mind had no control over my abrupt quitting. Deep down I knew it was the right thing to do but I do miss the Independence of a high paying job. I felt accomplished and justified for all the wrong reasons. And if you haven't noticed I said job not career or passion because it was just that a JOB. So here I sit two days away from Summer Vacation with my boys and thinking about what I really want to do. Boy, at times it's an unguided dilemma with no exit in sight. Then there are moments my brain wraps around an undefined cluster of hope and direction on my career. It's a start for now.

Things I could live without!

I could live without loot bags for birthday parties. I get into this conundrum about its contents. For over ten years I had this issue with loot bags. I tried high end, cheap, healthy, unhealthy, unique, odd and one time one item thingy in place of a loot bag. My kids came home with real fish in a bowl, movie passes, candy, toys, and even individualized age appropriate loot bags. Bless my sister-in-laws. I love the personal approach they give to each and every loot bag but frankly, most times I don't have it in me to do. This year my little one and I strode the aisle of a nameless everyday store and just grabbed things off the shelf. To my astonishment, he didn't seem to mind. He had no preference over the type of toys or treats. Honestly, it didn't register on his list of important items. What he did point out was his birthday wish list as we aimlessly strolled the toy section. The same amount of enthusiasm went into his choice of venue and I was left to figure that out too. So really it's the parent(s) who get bent out of shape for the perfect loot bag. Honestly, loot bags have been on my mind for the past month or so. Should I include one of the hottest gizmo toys for each of his pals or should I go middle range. One year Hot Husband made me give all baseball bats without realizing the majority of attendees were little girls. That went over well when they discovered you could use it to hit someone rather than play baseball. Uggghhhhhh. Needless to say, I am on my way to complete the loot bags %*^&^%$#@**^ Have a great day.

School Vacation

Aaaaahhhhh. Those were the days. Summer vacation looming ahead, counting the days as you dreamed in class. "I cannot wait, I cannot wait!!!! ". Thoughts of the summer plans danced about in your head as you sleepishly gazed out the window of your classroom thinking: "Who is going to be in cottage country when you got there? Any of your friends? When are we leaving for the cottage? Was the pool open? " Aaaahhhh, those carefree and unpretentious days of slumber and total vegetation. REALITY. The boys last day of school is in only four days, their vacation begins and my real job starts. It's days full of planning their activities, reminding them to entertain themselves, sign them up for numerous activities like the dive team, the polo team, the library club, a trip to Six Flags, and countless days up at the cottage. This being the first year experiencing full throttle "At Home Mom". I decided to spend the summer at home with my boys and Hot Husband (HH). Usually my command post is from my office desk now it's in the kitchen. Last year, the older one went to a two week day camp with some cousins and the little one stayed with a sitter, bless her soul, she was great. This year I am the entertainer, scheduler, planner, cook and taxi for two entire months. I'm a bit over whelmed to say the least. I find it easier at times dealing with adults, deciding budgets, meetings, etc. Call me a "Mom Wimp" but I'm new at this. I have some creative ideas to run by HH before going ahead with anything. But I know my resources will be put to the test with my boys. At the office, I can think on my feet, directing a staff and dealing with suppliers, I can handle disgruntled employees and a crisis in production all in the span of a morning. I am or should I say was married to my work and loved it. Now, I am married and at home. I am a full time at home mom. Check in with me in September to see any radical changes from staying at home, such as wearing an apron, Stepford Wive Syndrome or slightly deranged!!! As much as I'm looking forward to spending the summer with my children is as much I'm worried my boys will be bored, unmanageable or both. I know it's going to be fine. Actually, it's probably going to be one of the best summers we ever had. Four days to go!!!!

Father's Day

I kindly remember putting the finishing touches on my masterpieces, Father's Day cards. I loved crafts at school and at home. It transcending today, I own a glue gun! The thoughts and love I put into the cards were in the mere hope to get a "I love it, my dearest daughter with a big hug". The momentum built up in my mind for that moment when I gently handed over my dad his Father's Day card, present or both. I was lucky if he read it. not because he didn't love me but I was in line with many other siblings each wanting pretty much the same thing. I truly believe my dad looked at his children and often wondered where did they all come from aaaggghhhhh and it overwhelmed him. So there on a late Sunday afternoon, he sat in his chair like Santa in reverse as his children bestowed their gifts onto him. He was a man of few words, he would wring his hands together, chuckle and let his children fuss over him. That he loved. He was impatient, always looking for the easiest way to accomplish something which turned out to be cockamamie and seldom fruitful, his vocabulary consisted of every curse word known to man, he loved pickup trucks and dogs, he was a pack rat, he became a full time Dad when my Mom died and most of his children were grown, he made his way to the hospital for birth of both my boys, he was blunt as he was coy, he was loud as a lion as he was quiet as a mouse. He was smart, intuitive, a businessman, a towering man in stature who never let on how much he really knew. He was a good listener and the best possible father he could be. His approaches at times were silly but heartfelt. To avoid hurting his children's feeling rarely referred to his companion by name only by "Whactha ma call it". He was more of a Dad then I could have ever expected. He was my father who is here in spirit this year and who I cherish this year as I did last. I love my Dad and I miss him. Happy Father's Day Daddy.

Obama

I always wished to be born in the era of John F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King, to be part of the freedom movement, to be part of such a powerful liberating force. All through high school and college I wanted to be a hippie and travel the country and just be part of that era. I was born just as this was incredible time wrapped up. I heard the famous speeches and read a bit for a glimpse in the wonderment of JFK. And as a member of a minority I know what racism is, instinctively understanding and gravitating towards their messages. Still to this day when I hear either ones voice I am enthralled. I see what got a country up on its feet taking notice of their messages. They were powerful, non-threatening, they had charisma and inflection in their spoken words. And for all these reason and many more, a burning light of hope was left in the heart and souls of Americans. Today, I am so fortunate and grateful to be witness to another remarkable man I believe is just like Kennedy and King: Obama. There is a distinctive and powerful attraction in this man's message. He has a remarkable liking to these two famous leaders. Just his messages alone impacted America in the past year to win him the nomination of the Democratic National Party. He represents hope for all including me.

Lunch Date

Today, I have a lunch date with my hot husband and I am hoping HH has time to spare afterwards. Yes, I do want desert. I have to say since turning forty some hundreds of days ago my libido has gone into overdrive. Many heard the comment that your thirties is the best part of your sex life but I digress. The thirties were spent having babies and raising them. By time you got in that sweet place of lovemaking you were sooooo tired you obliged to keep our husband from going blind or some other ailment he was claiming. Now my boys are older and more self sufficient, I have more time for myself and definitely more rest. And my body has changed and I want sex quite often. Hot husband loves this!!! My choices of times and venues have changed too, at times putting a squirm in HH. Now he's the one with concerns over noise and venues. I tend to agree with him whole heartily in one area: older son I can hear everything MOM!!! There may be one time Older Son may have heard toooooo much. So now I take advantage of the times when there not home. With that lunch is nearing, gotta go. Have a good day, I know I will...............

What could you give up for a year?

What could I give up for a year? I could give up my job for a year and veg at home. I did it once when I abruptly lost my job. Yet I didn't veg, I couldn't. I felt guilty for sitting on my own couch. I believed constantly being "on" was the right thing to do. It felt like I was not permitted to relax and veg. Some of the guilt was that I was suddenly unemployed and should contribute somehow to our household. So I began a tirade of projects: painting half my home, organizing closets, gardening: planting way too many tomatoes and cleaning. You see, I am workaholic not driven by nature but I think by pure guilt of just about everything. I admitted this to my hot husband the other week and he quite quickly agreed with me. This time around the sans pas the guilt I could spend more time writing, take a artsy "fartsy" class or paint the other half of my home!!!

The things I could not give up for a year: sex, alcohol (not that I consume a lot but I do enjoy an occasional glass of wine), shopping and reading. What could you give up?

So much to say, so much time and space

One woman's spiel on the daily life is about me. I am a wife and mother of two school aged boys. Did I mention I have a hot husband? I do, I do!!



Years and years ago, maybe back in college I dreamed of having my own column to talk and write about anything or everything? Like that would happen! I thought how and who would let me write for their paper. I wrote for my college paper or just barely because I had so much fun at Homecoming the next day I could baely muster energy to get up and write a short two paragraph story for the publication deadline on Monday. I really impressed that professor. I mean seriously, I am not the most consistent person in the world. I remember thinking would this mean having the same job like forever? I did eventually early days after college and in university write for a local paper for extra cash and a great summer job. But then life happened and I was in a new place and new job. New ideas and new friends.



From my favorites: politics, spirituality or motherhood and now "wifehood" or things going on in the neighbourhood.