Ahhh...The Cookie Exchange!

The holidays are full of traditions, but the friendly "cookie exchange" is a tradition I can ESPECIALLY do without. For obvious reasons, the cookie exchange parties should be banned and forgotten all together. Why you ask?

It has nothing to do with the eighteen pounds you gain at the "exchange" and more to do with the rules and regulations surrounding the "icky biscuit trade."

Rule #1 involves the mass quantity of hot, homemade cookies needed to enter the exchange. As if I have enough time on my hands to embark on an all day bake off, making SIX dozen or so cookies for a half dozen acquaintances. Not to mention, the "sample tray" of another dozen.

Rule #2 is that the cookies must be homemade. Did I mention this in Rule #1? So, scratching the letters O-R-E-O won't be accepted at the "mistletoe-adorned and silver foiled, wrapping paper covered" front door! (Hey why do people THINK this looks good? I admit I have done this "cheapo door decorating" trick, but... boy its tacky!- Just a side note, sorry, back to the cookie crap!)

Rule#3 relates to the types of cookies no one wants. These may include: any cookie that involves a thumbprint, fruit centers or molasses. Fruitcakes will be turned away too.

Rule #4 says the baker may not arrive with ONE giant cookie, like the ones found at the food court in the mall. This is a sure fire way to NEVER be welcomed back to these Holiday Aproned Betty Crockers...and yes, its a good thing!

Rule #5 asks you to divulge your recipe to the eager beavers who want to make your long lost Auntie's macaroon recipe. There's usually one gal who " accidentally" leaves out one essential ingredient, such as oh... sugar or... butter! This insures others of NEVER baking the cookie " just right". And, that is just SO WRONG!

However, maybe I am just exposing the real reason for my bittersweet dislike for the whole cookie exchange. Because, as I leave for home, I notice all my foil embossed holiday recipe cards blowing down the street...only later to receive a phone call from the local emergency room asking me for a "sample" of my cookie.

Go figure, a couple people did eat my cookie AFTER ALL!

Turning Forty...(something) and Those Who KNOW Me!

Yes folks...its been quite some time since I blogged here. However, I felt the urge to share my birthday celebration. You know, a little self-deprecation may be what I need these days...

First, let me say, I had a great birthday. My husband and kids planned and really put together a nice day. Complete with flowers, carrot cake, breakfast in bed, a trail of rose petals through the hallway to the family room....hmmm, someone is tryin' to say I am a couch potato. The gifts were great! I had to laugh when my husband suggested I only enjoyed this birthday due to the sheer quantity of gifts. He is probably right. He knows me too well. I am a lover of any gift, freebie, coupon...you name it. When my husband returns from a business trip, he brings back the little soaps and lotion bottles...I get so excited to receive that crap!

But, looking back at all my gifts, I have to say that many people know me too well. I went through a little mental inventory of "my birthday loot"... to see what people must think of me.

My good friend, Cindy took me to lunch and showered me with a Brighton set. If you don't know Brighton....too bad for you! Its a line of jewelry that can only be described as "my crack of choice". She has been waiting to give me the set since June. Ah, she knows me.

I received a pair of five inch heels from my MIL (that's mother in law), she saw me eyeing the sluttiest pair of purple heels at DSW and they became mine!

My neighbors brought me a bottle of white wine, that may be "telling of what we do" on weekends!

The kids know me well, too. Max bought me a sugar cookie candle (I do love any candle that SMELLS like I baked), Cranberry lip gloss/lotion set, Reese's peanut butter cups and a huge handmade card with TWO coupons to do chores anytime. I like that kid.

Maddie also bought me a Vanilla candle, lip gloss/lotion and a box of candy. Additionally, she bought me a new pair of velour sweats. Adorned, with Swarzski crystals running down the pant legs. Apparently, my old yoga pants (which never saw a day of yoga in their life) and the fleece shirt she refers to as: "Winnie the Pooh style" are not good enough when I drive her to school. These new sweats scream, "Wear these when you drive me to school at 7:30 every morning!" I tend to scream, " If you don't appreciate the attire, take the bus."

My husband was very alert to my birthday needs. He took me dinner and I didn't feel the urge to order chicken (my mother always said, "Order the chicken, its the least expensive on the menu") instead, I ordered the Petite Fillet with risotto and TWO glasses of wine....and creme' Brulee'. Later, I received TWO dresses from a catalog "left in the reading room" and a pair of sexy leggings (definitely NOT in the catalog)! Ladies, this subtle hint was all he needed. Just circle what you like in your catalogs and tape the pages DIRECTLY on the t.p. He cannot miss it!

My mother is the best reader of my needs. She sent me TWO books. I opened them and laughed when I saw the cover. The first one is the biographical story of Robert Wagner. To those of you my age, Jonathon Hart was my first crush on TV. I watched Hart to Hart every week, just to see a glimpse of him driving the Mercedes! Ahhh,to think that my mother is younger than him....its a little creepy. I think he does commercials for the Sonic Ear or AARP now. The other book, Sarah Palin. Yes, I am a fan. I know that will shock some of you. Happy we are in a country of "free speech".

So there you have it...I think my husband is right when he says, "Wow, people really know you."

PS- Thank you to the Friends on FB who also wished me a happy birthday, its great to hear from you, too!

Why My Exterminator is Gone and Other Thoughts...

Well, I completely embarrassed myself last week. Typically, I keep my private things...private. But, not last Friday morning, oh no...I just "let it all hang out" there....have you ever done that?

I let our exterminator in, he's the guy who has been spraying my house for "creepy crawly things" (such as spiders and scorpions) for nearly five years.Yes, we DO have scorpions...Las Vegas is a desert.

The exterminator sprays once a month, inside and out. Last Friday, the house was less than tidy, so I decided to walk about twelve paces in front of him and lead him around the rooms. We started in the kids rooms (picking up toys and clothes) and each of their bathrooms(towels on the floor), the laundry room, both TV rooms, the workout room, office, kitchen and main entry. We rounded through the kitchen and dining room. Ah, not much to pick up in the hallway. Now, to the bedroom.

I walked in and started picking up some clothes off the floor and a pair of shoes, a few more items of clothing and then...the HORROR!

From across the room, I notice that I...okay, "WE" left a "few personal items" on the nightstand by my side of the bed. Apparently, we had an evening of romance. This, after two very large chocolate martinis the night before. Now the fog has lifted. (Yes folks, after thirteen years of marital bliss...we still do the deed!)

I race over to the display of lotions, potions and try to clear them off. My hands are full of clothes and I nearly knock various Marital Aids all over the floor. Not trying to cause a bigger scene, and frozen as to what I should do next, I open the drawer...and sweep it all in the drawer. All this time, I am not looking at the exterminator...but I know he saw my "not so casual" sweep. And, he definitely heard the "Ker-plunk" of plastic bottles and stuff...well, let's just leave it at that.

I was beyond mortified and couldn't wait for him to finally leave. I mean, we don't really get any bugs and I am the "Official bug killer" of the household. Just me and a can of hairspray gets the job done. I never have Raid but I can always find a can of Super Hold to immobilize their little legs from fleeing.

So, I sent our exterminator out the door, "knowing full well" he saw my "nightstand of ill repute" before I had rounded the corner. The damage was already done.

Of course, I had to call the husband and tell him of my x-rated Lucy moment...and he did what every guy would do, he LAUGHED. He just laughed and laughed...so I hung up.

"Hey, thanks hon, that may cost you for a very long while!"

As for the exterminator, I decided we don't need the service after all. So, I stocked up on hairspray!

Call Me LEFTY!

So, here I am sitting at my desk at work. Diving into a two foot pile of papers, when I get the call...from the school nurse! It went down like this:

School Nurse: Hi, Mrs. Thurlow, this is Gladys at Nate Mack. How are you this morning?

Me: Well, I am fine. (Wondering if Max is sick, tummy ache, sore throat)

School Nurse: I have Max in my office. He fell off the monkey bars and his hand hurts. He is complaining that he can't move his fingers. Do you want to speak with him?

Me: AAHHHH Yeah...I want to speak to him, get him on the phone. Oh, Max buddy, what happened?

Muffled crying/sniffling on phone.

Max: I fell Mom. I didn't land on my feet. I can't feel my hand or fingers. I think I am fine though. (More sniffling and gasping for a breath.)

Me: I am on my way! Mommy's comin'.

So, I jump from chair, don't even turn off the computer or door for that matter. Wave to Tony , who is on a phone call. I give him "the call me sign"..and say, "Max had an accident." I race through all the lights, and squeal my tires into the school parking lot. Racing past the office monitor and into the nurse's office. Max was calm but he was wincing and in a lot of pain. I knew it was broken and not just a sprain. Didn't need a med. degree to know that his very swollen hand/wrist meant a trip to the hospital.

However, that could be a five hour wait, and unless your are bleeding from two limbs or holding your decapitated head in your hands...it will be awhile to see an ER doctor. So, I did what I always do...I call the husband. He sets me up to go straight to our good friend/neighbor who is a Chiropractor..complete with x ray machine and a quick diagnosis...broken arm. Thank you, Dr. Campbell for the speedy x-ray! Sorry Max was reeling in pain and I had to pick him up off the floor. He was in shock.

Off to an Urgent Care to get a splint. Splint on and oh crap...he has his first football game tonight. Or not. Hmmm, I guess we are sittin' on the bench for a month or so. In the $600.00 worth of gear, registration fees, helmet, ETC... I guess there's always NEXT year!

Here is LEFTY...he is lookin' good in his "Tylenol induced state" and "mostly interrupted sleep." He is home for the day...recuperating on candy bars, Motrin and homework. Yes, I am the mom who got the homework...and he will have something to do when he feels a complete recovery in an hour and begs to ride his bike. Or, jump on the trampoline.

So, here's to my son, LEFTY!

For My Precious Kiddos...May You Enjoy The First Day Of School

Humor. What makes kids funny? Is it genetic? So, how do they get a sense of humor? My kiddos nearly caused a car crash, cracking me up while headed home yesterday. I was laughing so hard tears were in my eyes. And...they were making fun of me!

Thankfully, I can take a good joke. I enjoy a good sense of humor and allow my kids to poke a little fun. As long as they don't take it too far and mess with the disabled or unfortunate. In this case, they messed with Mom. Actually, my music choices.

I have Sirius radio and just to give you some background these are my favorites...70's, 80's, The Coffee House (channel 30), three country stations and a Christian station. I also have FOX news, Bloomberg News, Redneck Comedy, a couple other comedy stations and a few more news stations. Just focus on the music stations and don't try to figure me out on the other stuff.

Now, I leave the 80's station on most of the time, and last night Purple Rain/Prince came on. I hadn't heard that song in a long while and started to sing it when both kids complained and teased me for the song. Max read the display and said "Oh yeah...I like Purple Rain too." To which Maddie followed up with, "Mom, this is why we don't have our friends over." (This statement is very untrue, I have kids at our house all the time...in fact, we are the fun house with a pool, Popsicles, and trampoline. Trust me, kids are here ALL the time.

So, with their little outburst on my music, I shared how this song was from my high school years. It was popular then...blah, blah, blah...Max retorts with, "Mom this music is for sad, lonely people and you are not sad or lonely." Maddie just said, "My ears are bleeding." I have to admit their commentary on the Artist Formerly known as....some "sign" I can't reproduce here, was making me laugh. (Really though, Prince was an icon for risque music and he was too freaky for me in high school). I had a good friend, Mindi, who loved Prince in high school. He was very popular, I assure you!

They went on to poke fun at all the other stations and I told them that the Jonas Brothers is not really music. They were okay with that, even though Max secretly wants some skinny pants...okay, not secretly, BUT I AM NOT BUYING HIM THOSE PANTS.

Some other humorous comments were: Did they play the forks when you were a kid?...Do you know Elvis?...Why do people have to get their Foot Loose?

My responses were: Spoons, and no, I don't know anyone who played the spoons...I don't know Elvis, I was a little kid when he died and its not a real foot that's loose, "Its Everybody get Footloose"...ya know dance. Maddie just rolled her eyes in typical fashion and Max made a paper airplane to aim into my screen and change the station.

I told them at this point, if anyone touched the screen again, it would end in a spanking. (Folks, I don't even spank, it was just a funny thing to say). But, Maddie's response was priceless. She said..."Mom that's a chance I am willing to take!"

So this one goes to the kids who think Mom's music sucks...hahaha, school starts on Monday!

**(And, if you're lucky, I might give ya a ride to school...just don't mock the music!)

An Ode To Football...And The Helmet!

I promised myself to write a little more about Max. He is often "feeling left out" with his big sister, Maddie... "taking the limelight" around here. This is probably why he has such a witty personality...and tries for my attention. He is the kiddo that makes me laugh, even when I don't really feel like laughin'. So Max this story is for you!

About two years ago, Tony enrolled Max in tackle football. He bought the pads, tight little football pants, jerseys, shoes and...the helmet. We were quite excited to see how this tackle football thing would go.

Meanwhile, Tony had to head out of town for business in Wyoming. This is otherwise known as "When Lucy Moments Happen" or "Be Prepared, I Will Call You In Times Of Need." My best friend, Cindy knows "all too well" what happens when Tony leaves town. She once had to assist me in pulling out a hammock (attached to a heavy, metal green pole thingy) out of our pool.

Another time, we lost power because the construction crew building the house next door, caused some electrical thingy to break. We found shelter at Cindy's. I know she saved the day more than just these times...but, I digress, this story is about MAX!

So, I was off to take Max to his football practice. He was all padded up and ready to go. I made sure the pads were tight to his body, counting the same amount of holes in each of those "buckle things" that wrap around his ribs. Tony said the coach would help him with the helmet...not to worry. When we got to the field, the coach put his helmet on and made sure he had the "mouth thingy" in too. Don't wanna lose any teeth!

The practice lasted about two hours...maybe two days. I was so dang tired from a long day at work and then, bouncing from one kid's sport to another, that by the time I got to the football field, I could have slept on a bleacher. Or, the ground.

I was really looking forward to seeing Tony come home that night. His flight had taken off and he would arrive home as practice was ending. When practice did end, Max walked over and we were wildly late to pick up his sister at gymnastics...across town! I told him to hop in the car and we would do the Houdini dance of taking off the gear in the car. Mind you, Max is so flexible and he said "Okay Mom, let's get Maddie".

So, we were off to pick her up when Max says , "Hey Mom, if we get in an accident, I will be protected." Always one to find the bright side of a situation. I had to laugh. We got Maddie and headed home. Max tried to pull his helmet off but was having no luck. I told him to wait a little longer, afterall...like he said, it is good protection in an accident. I would help him out of his gear when we got home. Or so I thought...

We arrived in the garage and Max got out. He looked a little sweaty, so I was eager to get him out of the gear. I grabbed his helmet and gave a little tug to take it off. It wouldn't budge. Tony DID mention that you have to hold the sides out so his head can come out. So, with all my might, I pulled on the sides. But the stinkin' thingy wouldn't come off his head. Maddie even got in on the action. We had a go of tug of war with Max. This helmet was on for good!

I debated going to a neighbor for help, but thought how ridiculous I would seem, not getting a helmet off. And, Tony should be home by now. I told Max we could wait for Dad. But, the poor kid needed proper blood flow. So, we continued to tug.

I was looking at the helmet. Mostly for an Easy button, something to "Pop" or release this kid from the confines. I almost gave up when he said something about a... chin strap. Yes, I see the chin thingy. I know you can't start by pullin' that off the chin. Again, a muffled voice says, "chin strap."

And, that's when I learned that the straps around the helmet had meaning. One is actually ATTACHED to the chin strap. Did you know that? I sure as heck didn't!

Well, we got helmet off just before Tony got home. Max in all his wooziness and sweat, took a shower.

I thought I was in the clear until Tony walked in the door and said, "Son, how was practice?" Max told the whole miserable story...I will never forget the chin strap again son, I promise!

*Max, you make me laugh, you make me smile!

Trash versus Give Away...

The countdown to the first day of school is fast approaching. Kids are cleaning their rooms, closet, under the bed and dresser drawers, so we know what they need for school.


Max needs socks. Maddie needs shoes.


I need another box of Hefty bags for their trash. Two bags per room. One reads: "Trash" and the other: "Give Away". "Trash" is full... but "Give Away" is very light. Not because its a recession. We have enough to give away. "Give Away" is a tough bag, though. The kids can't part with the Mc Donald's Happy Meal toys, broken toys and stained, but favorite t-shirts. Max has baby books, boxes of rocks, sticks he whittled with his Daddy and pictures of himself with Jeremy Mc Grath. He is a collector.


Maddie has oodles of books, she is my bookworm. She also keeps junk, four drawers worth, in her two night stands. Her "Give Away" items are far a and few between. Consisting of a couple old leotards and a pair of sweatpants. Nevermind, the closet shelf of stuffed animals and Webkins. She doesn't play with them, but they must stay. And with her "puberty striking attitude", I pick my battle and allow them to stay a little longer.


I did run across Max's bed and noticed his favorite stuffed animal. This one...I will keep for him. It will never be trash, never be given away. It will be mine to hold for him FOREVER. "Lamby."


"Lamby" is a little stuffed....you guessed it, Lamb. I bought it many years ago, when Max was sick with the flu and needed a prescription filled at Walgreens. I remember picking it up with a coloring book and crayons. He must have been sick around Easter, as they had a large selection of bunnies and lambs. Mind you, Max remembers the exact date and time "Lamby" came into our lives. I just remember the pink Amoxicillian and Motrin. And, another co-pay for the day.


"Lamby" has a friend, aptly named "Piggy." He is not the main character in our house. But he lives with Lamby...on his own pillow. Good thing Lamby and Piggy weren't in the "Give Away" bag...but what about those broken down, plastic, action figures and sticks. Hmmm.....

20 Ways to Stretch Your Dollar...

While driving to the grocery store, I was thinking about all the new ways I saved money this week. Thought I would share them with you, in hopes of helping just one friend out there to save a buck or two. Enjoy!!

1. Grocery shop at stores that have the extra value card and gas station. I saved $10.00 on gas this week using the card/.50 cents off the gallon for my 20 gallon tank. My Rubicon thanked me!


2. Read the "streamer length sized" receipt from your purchases for coupons. I had a $5.00 off coupon when I spent 25.00 at a store. Also, Fresh and Easy market has great food coupons.


3. Okay...COUPONS! Spend a few minutes and sort the mail. You would be surprised how many coupons, meals/"buy one entree, get one free" and such are tucked in what used to be my "junk mail"! Gone are the days of tossing the junk mail. I find a "gem" each week!


4. Limit the coffee drinks to a "treat". They cost about $5.00 plus the extra calories. I used to drink a Venti white chocolate iced latte 2-3 times a week. That's about $15.00! Times that by 4 and its $60.00...now I am not a mathematician ( I leave it to my husband to run numbers) but I do know that's a new pair of shoes for me!


5. Unplug it. Yes, go around your house and unplug items you don't use all the time. The toaster, blender, radio...does anyone have a radio? We unplug everything before we leave on trips and it saves money. Plus, you may be "going green" too!


6. Read your credit card statements for errors.


7. Double check your checking accounts, too.


8. Stop buying bottled water. The tap water was okay "when we were kids"...we have gotten so lazy to buy water when you have a faucet.


9. Gym memberships... why? Do you live on a block? Can you walk the block for exercise? Walk the dog or go for a swim. You don't have to forgo exercise, just the expense.


10. Call your insurance company and make sure you are getting the lowest rate for auto insurance. Shop a little.


11. Call the cable company and see what they are offering new subscribers. You too, should get that deal.


12. Buy books at Amazon.com. You can save about 50% on a book, despite waiting for it to arrive, that's a good deal!


13. Go online and look for coupons. I sent my husband to the Sporting good store armed with three different coupons to buy Max's football shoes, 20%-30% off. Considering the uniform and helmet will be expensive, you have to save somewhere.


14. Ask for a discount when you buy something. It doesn't hurt and in this economy, people may be willing to budge. Its the difference between a sale and no sale.


15. Plan your errands around your drive. For instance, pick up the dry cleaning while on another errand nearby.


16. Buy bulk. I sent my husband to Costco for laundry soap, t.p. and paper towels... among a few other things we use, ENDLESSLY. I love the fact that he will run this errand and carry it into the house. While I appreciate the prices, I hate the experience and huge parking lot!


17. Get the kids to help save too. I make them sort the coupons and pick where we can eat, where we will buy new shoes, etc...


18. Make a "game" of it. I never thought I would clip coupons, read the "junk mail", ask for a discount and call for lower rates. But, I get so excited to get a deal! You'd think I won the lottery. And, now I am addicted to finding a way to save a few dollars each day. I am not cheap. I buy what we need and yes...truth be told, I got my nails done today. But, I saved a heck of a lot all week and felt good about it. And, my nails look great!!


19. Sell stuff. I am getting rid of some items on Craig's List. Some people are addicted to eBay. One person's junk...!


20. Enjoy what you have. We are such a "throw away" society. Imagine how empty antique shops will be in a few years!

Okay...so I have shared my tightwad tips. Do you have any money saving tips to share? Please tell me what you do to save a buck!

And..."Tats" How I Roll...

Fresh Ink. My left arm wrapped in barbed wire. Yes, a tattoo. I could barely believe it myself. I am not in pain, thankfully. And, my husband is very ecstatic. A little tramp stamp on his wife. The kids were adversely taken back. No surprise here. Especially my Maddie. She is appalled that her strict as nails Mother (who doesn't allow pieced ears or a cell phone on those ears) would be so trashy to get a tattoo. What kind of double standard have we started here? All I could come back with was..."Hey, when you are over 40, you can do as you like with your body." This didn't go over though. Even Max was upset, after all...he gels his hair in a "faux-hawk" and thinks Skinny Pants are in his future. He's nine! I still dress him in GAP and Old Navy. No Skinny Pants allowed. Ever.

Back to the Tat. We spent the evening trying to explain...defend...JUSTIFY the ink. Tony was worn down and decided to do the most fatherly thing...he let the kids get a tattoo! Maddie came out with a purple and black flower on the inside of her forearm. Max got a FOX logo emblazed in "fireflame" orange and black.

Yep, "tats how we roll" folks.

**(They'll fade in about a week, depending on how many baths and showers are taken!)

Country Boots and Country Dancin'

Tonight is the Duck Creek Dance, complete with the band... Muddy Boots. Yep, I reckon' I have become a "little bit Country" over the years. My O.C. days didn't stick, and that's quite alright. I love cowboy boots, big belts and straw cowboy hats. My husband wears 'em best though. Yes folks, my husband started the whole thing...

Before we dated, we were Friends. you know... the "Harry Met Sally" friendship. I would talk about my lame long distance romance and he would brag about the various conquests he was maintaining. I met my husband in 1986. He lived below me in the dorm. Manzanita at ASU. He was quiet, reserved and we never hung out too much back in '86.

I ran into him a few years later...by way of Dance 100 Class. He was satisfying a Humanities requirement, I was gettin' an easy A. We studied together and attended all the dance concerts as well. He was very cute. Did I mention how I would stare at him instead of Professor Bernice? I even want as far as forging his name on the attendance roster...on days he slept through class. (It was at 11:40am.) We both received A's for the class. And went on our separate paths AGAIN.

We ran into each other in '90 and he asked me out to a rodeo. I was so excited, I even bought cowboy boots and a hat in Scottsdale, on Main Street. Mind you, it was not a date...okay, I was wishful thinking. (My boyfriend was in Nebraska/law school and something told me that this would not last, thankfully it didn't).

So, off to my first rodeo! Tony said "we'd be meeting several of our college friends" there. We waited at the front gate/ticket booth for an eternity. Then, we decided to just go on and find seats. I remember the tight crowds and grabbed his arm, did I mention his incredible biceps? Whoa Girl, slow down!

We watched the rodeo and for some odd reason, never found our college group. I wasn't really concerned though. I had "Mr. Bicep" next to me all night! I remember when he asked me to dance on the way out. We stopped and danced to some country music. It was my first Rodeo...and first Country Dance!

So, fast forward to '93, I was single and back in Arizona. Tony and I reconnected through a mutual friend, I kissed him on a bar stool and the rest is history. I had been saving that kiss for nearly seven years! Now, when we don a pair of dusty cowboy boots and a hat...I remember that Rodeo and the dance... like it was the first date! Because, you and I know...it was.

I can't wait for tonight. We have been married nearly 13 years, but it feels like the Rodeo Nite all over again. I will grab his arm (again) to lead to me to the dance floor..it will feel like time has not passed.

Start Your Engines....

Shhh... don't tell anyone of my unique sporting interests. I have kept my NASCAR watching in the closet and "on the down low" for a little while. Only letting my closest of friends know of my secret obsession. The smell of burning rubber, black tire stains on my shirt and the roar of the engines excite me. I can't explain it. I can explain however, the first day I watched NASCAR...

It was February 1997 and I was home alone in a new apartment in lovely Las Vegas. My husband of about four months, was busy at work on a Saturday morning. Got a promotion right into a six day work week! I dare mention, I was already preggo (YES, you can get preggo on the honeymoon) and morning sickness was in full swing. I recall eating my Saltine crackers and a Sprite on our old, Desert print, cactus and coyote adorned sectional. I could barely keep my attention on the mile high stack of wedding thank you's. I was sick of writing, "Thank you for the (toaster, comforter, bath towels, blah, blah, blah)... it lovely seeing you, oh by the way...a baby shower will be held in seven months...prepare yourself for another gift!"

Okay, so you got the picture...I was baby on board, on the ugly sofa and didn't like writing thank you's. I could only focus on basic stuff, when I stopped the remote on NASCAR. It may have been the mention of M&M's on Ernie Ervin's yellow car or a desire to drink a Miller Lite with Rusty Wallace...whatever the case, I was hooked. I mean, its an easy concept, go around the little oval and finish the race. And, I picked my own sport. My husband had no influence on this. He will assure you!

(Small digression here: Ten years later, he bought a Corvette and raced on a track...took 2nd place!)

I began to watch this "oval race" each Sunday...Sunday...Sunday! Saturday races were okay, but Sunday was the real day to watch! Bigger drivers and better crashes. Those races would get me through some tough times. I would forget the nausea, stretchmarks and cravings. Okay, not the cravings...Reese Peanut Butter Cups were always a coffee table away!

My husband greeted me with the best surprise one evening. He was fortunate to have met a driver through one of his First year-Advisors and scored two tickets to the boxes above the pits.

There, I was able to sit above the late, Dale Earnhardt's pit. I also met Rusty Wallace and got an elbow from Jeff Gordon's security...hmmm, might have been to close! (1997)

Anyhow...its out there. NASCAR is my thing. I let my Redneck show. Do you have a secret worth sharing? I would love to hear!!

Mountain Woman Gains 5 lbs. In Record Time...

I am embarking on a new food intake plan. The intake will involve pitifully small amounts of food, 5-6 times a day with lots o' water and a handful of vitamins. As I am tad hungry (all day) I will then take at least two walks...okay make it one walk every day. I will do this until I fit into my size 2 Ambercrombie jeans again.

I was hoping to wear those jeans tonight on my "mountain date" to the local pizza place--- Hot Mamma's--- where my husband and I will watch the 100th UFC fight!! Yes, I did say pizza place. I have decided not to eat the pizza, just smell it. I think I will gain less calories through my olfactory senses. I will have a big ass glass of water and maybe a salad. No dressing.

Ah, I am dreaming of a cup of yogurt right now. Maybe later, a little baby carrot for a snack...oh heck they are small...maybe two!! I will eat my meals on the salad sized plates, making me feel like I am eating a full plate of food...fooling myself. I will refrain from any chocolate martinis (although my husband makes the BEST drink...complete with chocolate syrup dripping down the inside of the glass and a funsize Almond Joy perched on the edge of the glass).

I will get back on the scale each morning to motivate myself...as if the jeans aren't motivation.

No more apple pie, chicken pot pie, five egg omelets or s'mores for me. I am over it with that food! However, the chili cook off is a week away and if I get into those jeans...maybe I will indulge in a cup...!

If you have any suggestions for me...please comment! I need all the help I can get to slide back into those jeans.

10 Reasons The Mountains Make Me Happy...

I am at peace. I am in the mountains. I know this cannot last forever, but for the month of July...the mountains make me happy. Here, is a top ten list of things that make me happy at altitude:

10. The peace and quiet (No CNBC, the Dow Jones or phones ringing)

9. The Moo of the cows below, in the valley....MOOOOO!! (Sadly, we tend to eat a steak for dinner)

8. Max and Maddie riding motorcycles with their Daddy ('cause Mommy doesn't ride)

7. Cooking homemade pies and eating s'mores by the fire (yum!)

6. Eating an omelet, made by my hubby (no one can come close to this breakfast, not even Krispy Kreme!)

5. Sleeping in (past 7am...okay, past 8am!!)

4. Watching the chipmunks, squirrels and deer wander in nature (just don't have that view in Vegas, do I?)

3. Reading books without feeling guilty (I have a dozen books waiting for me)

2. Playing Monopoly with Max (and, not letting him beat me anymore...he is competition now...its on!)

1. Spending QUALITY time with family (need I say more?)

Ah, even the Chihuahua is relaxed and asleep on the dirt/rock driveway! And, smiling in his slumber.

So, what makes you happy?

An Ode to Pot Pies...

Oh, how I love a good pot pie. As a kid, I remember the Swanson's pot pie, in its metal tin. Then, came the Stouffer's pot pie and Marie Callendar's. But, as luck would have it, I am the pot pie maker. Only at the cabin. Thanks to a recipe from Cooking Light magazine and a lot of boredom on my part. I cook much better up at altitude. Okay, I just cook. We can't just run out for dinner ya' know. Applebees is considered a fancy restaurant and its just over an hour away in Cedar City, Utah.

My family has a tradition revolving around the pot pie. Sick, I know. But, we have the instituted the Duck Creek Pot Pie Contest! We assemble our own pot pie, fill it with various ingredients (corn, peas, carrots, chicken, mushrooms, cream of chicken soup) and decorate the top of our pie. My husband always wins the contest. He spends just enough time to make me worry. I am not a hater...but he is SO competitive.

So, last night, he was omitted from the contest. (Okay, he was building shelves in the new garage and no one told him about the contest.) Instead, we had four kids and of course...me. The kids' cousins had fun making pot pies and said they never ate one before. Well, thanks to their Country lovin' Aunt, they made and ate their entire pot pie!

Max decorated his with the vegetables on the outside. Maddie needed a toothpick to poke holes around the edge. Cousin James added L.L. (for "Ladies Love"). Cousin Danny went with a less time intensive crust. I put a little dough heart for mine...I love them pot pies!!

Duck Creek Parade

I love the little town of Duck Creek. The parade floats which consist of ATV's, Rangers and big a** trucks strewn with streamers and American flags are so redneck. But, we are in the country...and redneck is okay here. Redneck is dirty Wranglers and dusty boots. Its cowboys hats and bandannas on bald heads. And, its a nice break from the glitz of Las Vegas... our home the other eleven months of the year.

We decorated the Ranger with flags and streamers, the three boys decided to have Maddie fix their hair in ponytails. I was quite surprised they would allow her to touch their hair, let alone assemble it in little ponytails that resembled faux Mohawks.

The pelting of candy went just as planned. The kids were happy to toss candy to smaller kids, often more than a sole Tootsie Roll. The teenagers were in for a world of hurt though. They got pelted with jawbreakers, salt water taffy and Dum Dum lollipops...by my husband. He loves to pelt the candy and does this while driving! He also pelted his sister on the side of the road. Oh, the fun never ends.

I gave my parade wave. I missed out on Prom Queen (in high school) and I believe this is as close as it gets. Redneck and all. Husband pelting candy in his cowboy hat as I smile and offer the "cupped hand wave" to the parade watchers. We are a pair!

The fireworks are little 'po dunk too. They aren't the big fan fare in the sky. Instead, the local firemen (fully decked in their uniforms, hat and all) light those little firecrackers you remember doing as a kid. The ones your parents would buy and light on the street. Piccolo Petes and little Screaming sparklers. I think the kids were all a little disappointed but Maddie enjoyed the hula hoop contest. She won! Got a coin dollar. If the gymnastics thing isn't for her, she can fall back on hula hooping!!

Yes, Duck Creek is no Las Vegas...and for that I am grateful.

Family and Fireworks...

Happy 4th of July! Sitting here (in the cabin) just reflecting on the previous day's events and glad we are finally together. From cleaning and preparing for my in-laws (mom-in-law, sis-in-law, and two adorable nephews) to the fight between my two precious kiddos, and the wrong turn taken to Bryce Canyon...we are reunited.


I was busy getting last minute laundry and vacuuming finished. My husband, was doing yard work and washing the Ranger for the big PARADE! Gotta have a shiny Ranger for the Duck Creek parade. Kids don't care about the decorated Ranger as much as the five bags of candy they will pelt at children on the side of the road. It was requested that I purchase only hard candies....OUCH!


Got a call from my sister in law, who asked, "Are you near Pine Lake?" to which I said, "Hang on let me get the man of the house and his directions". You see, I am more of a "fast food landmarker". Ahhh, take a left at the Wendy's and go two blocks 'til you see the Chili's, pass a Taco Bell and turn right.... you see how my directions work. So, when I was asked about a Pine Lake, I gave up....


Tony got on the phone to help his sister. I heard him ask, "Okay, where are you now?"...and her response, Pine Lake. "Okay, are you headed North?" She said she was North and then he asked her to turn right and yet... she was still North. At this point, Tony asked her to use the GPS in the new car. I also heard him remind her that there were two "tech savvy" kiddos in the back of the car who could easily operate the GPS. This is very true. Kids have a way with computer screens, it looks just like a Nintendo.

Fast forward to a second phone call, (forty five minutes later) when sister in law cheerfully called to give me an update. She had made "a complete circle", finding the road and was headed to our cabin. Let's call it the Scenic Circle...

During my in laws "scenic drive", my own kids decided to have World War III. Fighting ensued, a glass of pink lemonade hit the carpet, mom got mad, one kid had bite marks on his shoulder and tears were flowing. Wishing I was in my sister in law's "Scenic Circle ride"...I put my smack down on the kiddos. I wanted them to cool down before the family arrived. Who knows, in a perpetual circle, it may take awhile. I was wishing for that.

I made both kids write their side of the story. I was tired of the "he said/she said" and really didn't care...I had pink lemonade soaking into the carpet. So, here my kids were, sitting on the front porch on the green Adirondack chairs, writing their confessions. Max wrote two pages that basically kept him out of trouble. At the end, he pleaded mercy and wrote, "If you believe me and love me, trust the kid that is bleeding TO DEATH."

Maddie's letter was three pages and complete with illustration of her fall off the hammock rolling into a rock down a "little slope". Very graphic. Great use of vocabulary! She ended her letter with..."Mom, I am sorry if I hurt your feelings when I hurt Max"...ah, she did bite him. Lots of big hearts at the bottom of the page too.

So, I did what all Moms do, I kept these letters. They are great!! So are my kids now that their cousins left their perpetual circle near a Pine Lake. All four of them are playing great, as usual.

We are off to pelt candy at unsuspecting kiddos now. More to come! Happy 4th!!

Cabin Life

Our blissful cabin is located in Duck Creek Utah, just 33 miles from Cedar City, Utah and a mere four hour drive from our home in Las Vegas.

We purchased our cabin on 7/7/07, at 7:07pm. I don't believe in numerology but that "seven thing" is pretty odd. Tony is a numbers guy and noticed the irony on the purchase paperwork. It may be lucky.

I have to say I feel lucky when we are here. I am at peace, no deadlines, chauffeuring kids to soccer or the gym four times a week. No work or phone calls. No traffic, no shopping, no errands...no nothing.

Instead, we have formed many traditions in our cabin. Max likes to play Monopoly with Mom. Maddie likes to drive the Ranger with her Dad, to Aunt Sue's for a homemade pie. Sometimes, we just make one. We also make chicken pot pies, (Marie Callendars look out)! My husband likes to listen to the local country band, Muddy Boots play their music. I always get a slow dance in!

We sit by the fire and make S'mores, the kids ride dirt bikes and Tony works. He really never stops working. From laying bricks, grading the garage, hanging pictures, shoveling snow, fixing dirt bikes, snowmobiles, etc.... He rarely relaxes. On the other hand, I can relax all day long. Okay, all month long. I read, write, play with the kids, read cookbooks and make new meals. I wouldn't say we are Little House on the Prairie, but it is a BIG step from the life we made in Las Vegas.

So, here's to the month of July and our real family time. Time away from homework, organized sports, junk mail, grocery lines, the office... and here's to spending time as a family. The way we should be everyday...not just on the lucky month of July!

Hey Lunchbox!

Did your lunchbox define you? Did you carry a metal one? Or, a vinyl one? Were you more of a TV show, cartoon, Football team or character? I look back at my annual lunch box purchases with fond memories. My mom would patiently take me to each discount store (Woolworth's, K-mart, the food store) to find JUST the right lunchbox. I remember every lunchbox I carried. Mom was a saint and dealt with my (obsessive) need for a different lunchbox every year. One year, I couldn't decide and was the proud owner of TWO! That was a good year...

1st grade- Snoopy

2nd grade- Barbie (in Vinyl) and Super friends
3rd grade- Betsy Clark

4th grade- Holly Hobbie
5th grade- Charlie's Angels

6th grade- brown paper sack

I remember how we would judge kids on their lunchbox. If they had a cool character like Six Million Dollar Man or Evel Knievel...that was cool. But, if a kid had some TV show like, say The Walton's...this really defined the kid. Set him up for a year of ridicule at the lunch table. That Walton's carrying kid also had a box of raisins and an olive sandwich. Poor kid.

I always secretly wanted a Little House on the Prairie lunchbox. I liked Nellie Olsen and all.

Cool boys had their favorite NFL team, The Hulk or Star Wars. Cool girls had Holly Hobbie and TV shows.

But, the thermos always did a lot of damage. It would roll around and flatten the fluffy, Wonder bread p.b.& j. Sometimes, it would "smash" a Ho-Ho or a Hostess cupcake. I hated that. No matter how my mom would pack it, something it would always get steamrolled in the metal box.

What lunchbox did you have a kid? Please comment...!!

Lost an Angel on Earth, Gained an Angel in Heaven...

Today, we lost and Angel on Earth...but Heaven has gained one. As you may know, Farrah has passed away. I wanted to share my memories of Farrah with you. I was a big fan of Charlie's Angels and have memories of the lunchbox (my fifth grade weapon, made of metal), the action dolls (I had all three), and of course, the POSTER. My dad bought the poster (for me) and hung it in my room. As a young girl, I would stare at it and wish for such a beautiful smile. Her teeth were amazing. Most people were "looking elsewhere", but for me...it was the teeth!

Recently, I was on a journey to "enhance my body"-- you can read more in my previous blog..."Two Boobs or Not Two Boobs" (to be "filled in"). I had an epiphany. I realized that my first step to physical improvement began with my teeth. At age 38, I was the proud recipient of braces. Twelve months later, straight teeth. All thanks to my husband who wanted me to be happy with my smile, and to "Dr. Frank" who made me pretty.

I know it all started with that poster and a smile that would shine down on me. Sitting on my bed, I would look up and think..."How did she get those teeth SO white?" Again, I did not purchase the poster. This was the handiwork of my father who hung it on my closet door. I really wanted the poster that had all three Angels! He bought this one. Hmmm....wonder why.

Anyhow, I was writing about a nice set of new boobs and this poster came back to me. I had one of those deja vu moments about the poster, the teeth and now the boobages. I was re-telling this childhood story to my husband, who sadly puts up with all my walks down memory lane. I am an only child...he has to suffer!

So, I added this memory to my "soon to be best seller of a book". Then, I changed my mind on the boobs, altogether. I do know that Farrah was a big part of my childhood though. So, was the poster....

An icon of hair, bathing suits and THOSE teeth...may she rest in peace and her family have many happy memories of her. She will be missed.

*If you have memories of the 70's, watched Charlie's Angels or if you wore Farrah hair, please comment!

Driving Part Deux...otherwise known as: "Ma'am Do You Know Why I Pulled You Over?"

Okay, I admit it. I may suck at driving a little. A retraction of my previous blog regarding my driving skills and that of my husband, Tony, is also in order. He was rather peeved at my comments about Monster Trucks and the whole "A package" comment. I do call his truck that, in private and we laugh together, but it appears it is "not so funny"--- when its on the web for all to read. I did remind him that "maybe only seven people read my blog" and I don't have a "following" past his sister and a friend or two...this was not good enough!

So it goes...I drove (again) us home from yet another road trip. Tony had worked all week in Arizona, seeing clients while the kids and I basked in the Phoenix sun at the JW Marriott/ Desert Ridge. Beautiful pools and a lazy river for the kids. I am spoiled rotten!

Tony got as far as Wickenberg, (about an hour out of town) and deserved a break from driving. I jumped in the driver's seat, adjusted myself (suicidally close) to the steering wheel, adjusted my mirrors and made my way to the two-lane highway. Watching for the speed limit sign (55), I drove cautiously down the road. My husband not so kindly pointed out that people can be stopped for driving too slow. I laughed and reminded him "that I had just seen the 55 speed limit sign" to which we laughed at "driving too slow." It was at this point, I noticed a highway patrol car behind me.

I had nothing to fear, after all... I was going the speed limit. Exactly. I saw the sign and know that AZ is famous for catching speeders with all their fancy, photo surveillance cameras atop the police vehicles. I was not gonna fall for that trap.

Being followed by a highway patrol does unnerve me, though. Even as "Dudley Do Right" as I am...I get panicky and nervous. I tried to keep relaxed and asked the kiddos if they had their seat belts on correctly. They wear the shoulder part behind them and I don't want an improper seat belt ticket. Not gonna fall for that trap either!

Now, I was being followed for about three miles and was really hoping the cop would race past me, so I could just calm down. And then...the lights flashed!

Yes...I got pulled over.

As I pulled over to the side of the road, I asked Tony, "What the hell did I do?" He quietly got the registration out of the glove box and said, "Honey don't talk too much...let him do the talking, okay?" I agreed. But, anyone who knows me...knows this is an impossibility. I am a loud mouth. I am Italian. I am a loud mouth Italian! May my ancestors be proud. I am not like the Housewives of New Jersey...but wait, I was born in New Jersey. Crap!

So, we rolled down the window on the passenger side. This is when my mouth really needed some duct tape. Officer Wright, (I couldn't even make this name up, true story) says to me, "Good afternoon, how are you both, today?" And, the ever popular..."License and registration please" followed. To which, I was ready to tell him a few explicit words, despite my kids in the backseat.

But, I held my tongue for a moment and cheerfully said, "Okay."

Now, I should have refrained...I should have listened to my husband's wise words and not said another word. But, I didn't do that. Instead, I said...."Can you tell me just WHY you pulled me over?" And, yes I was a little smug while asking.

After all, I knew the speed limit.

Officer Wright responded, "Ah, yes ma'am I would be happy to tell you why I stopped you... you see the speed limit is 65, and you were driving 10 below the speed limit, often times guilty people and criminals drive slowly." Ah, did he just call me a criminal? Oh he didn't!

I did the right thing and apologized for driving the posted speed limit prior to the following 65 sign...hmmm, where was that sign, anyhow? He laughed and never even looked at my driver's license or registration*. That easy. I was off the hook.

*Little digression here: I don't mind showing my licence though. It's a fabulous picture, good hair day, I have lost weight since the photo shoot and they got me in the right light there at the DMV.

Anyhow, my husband gave a little chuckle and I think I even saw Tony wink at the officer...as if they had a little joke between the two of them. I was not amused. I was irritated that this officer was sympathizing with my husband, perhaps an underlying: "I'm sorry you're stuck with her kind of thing"!

And yes, I drove the rest of the trip with the damn cruise control on 65,... okay 70. I was quiet for the remainder of the ride home. Tony was right. I do drive too slow!

Superior Driving Skills Revealed...

I am an excellent driver. Don't be fooled by my husband who states otherwise. Take Sunday afternoon for example. Tony was thrashed from both the long weekend of backbreaking landscaping at our cabin and his dirt bike ride with Max. So, I offered to drive us home. To which I received silence...my husband's way of sayin'- "No thanks hon, I'll drive myself."

He hates my driving. Can't understand why...I'm a very competent driver, even while driving his rig. Oh, let me describe his rig for ya...

A Ford F-350 Super Duty with a lift kit and big ass tires. Big enough that a little motorized stair pops down when you open the truck door. I refer to this Testosterone Monster Truck as the "A-package" (for all the A-holes that drive these trucks). But, I digress....

Tony was just tired enough to let me drive us home from Utah. A couple hours from home. Or, as he would put it..."if you drive 85 in the left lane, keeping the RPM's under 200 and watching the miles per gallon as to not waste the diesel gas...we will be home in 72 minutes"...blah, blah, blah. Did I mention "cruise control"?

Cruise control is Tony's favorite feature of any vehicle. The fact that I refuse to use it...makes him downright frustrated. Its just that I like to know that "I am still driving" and any time I have used it, I just ended up putting my foot on the brake which causes the "cruise to end" and then you have to reset the dang thing...all while driving. Just drive I say! Does Jeff Gordon use this? NO... then, why should I?

Tony's comments were the following: "Its Sunday, you can't drive in the right lane"..."Oh, an '84 Ford Fiesta just passed us"... "Do you always drive so close to the steering wheel?" To which, in my mind I answered him..."Why can't I drive in the right lane"... "I am going the speed limit, I just wanted that Ford Fiesta to pass me and yes, I have to be this close to the steering wheel...that way I can see OVER the big ass dashboard".

Men just drive different, that's all. He can drive 85, switch lanes while eating a Big Mac and read the thirteen different gauges like: odometer, speedometer, RPM...in fact the instruments that came standard were not enough for Tony. He bought a set of three more that hang on the left side of the window panel. He is, afterall a numbers guy, but I think its an obsession to be watching all those numbers and "calculate" like a scene from "Rainman"...."eight fish sticks...I like eight fish sticks when I watch Wheel of Fortune"...

As for the ride home, I got us home safe and sound...I even passed that Ford Fiesta, (as they were fixing the flat tire)!

If you have similar issues or if you are a guy, I wanna hear from you...I need some insight on male driving...please comment below!

You Know You're Gettin' Older When...

I decided a top ten list would best explain how I am feeling today. Quite frankly, I feel ancient this week...could have been the family trip to Disneyland that started it all. Panicking on a roller coaster isn't exactly "a young at heart" attitude. So, it got me to thinking how many things I notice about getting old, here goes:

1. Watching my grey hairs pop up every six weeks. Tony calls me "Jay Leno." I call it my "raccoon,"... then, I call Judy for my next coloring appointment "to make 'em go away"!
2. Reading the menu further and further away from my body. I find 12-16 inches a perfect distance to read these days. If Tony holds it across the table, I can read it! And, yes I do have reading glasses, problem is, I forget them.
3. When spelling out my name to people, I still tend to say: "Caprice, like the car" to which now people don't have a clue what a "Caprice Classic" is anymore. I have to find a new reference! It worked for most of my life...hmmm.
4. My music. I listen to Sirius radio and my stations are: 70's, 80's, 90's, two country stations, Redneck comedy, the coffee house,... need I go on? You are either: assured a great stroll down memory lane with me or as my kids put it, "Mom can we just drive in silence, please?" Maddie hates the Decade Stations. Max hates the Coffee House station. I hate the Jonas Brothers. Guess we're even.
5. Achy bones when I wake up. I mean come on...I just got 9 or so hours of sleep, we have a great mattress, so why am I so achy waking up? Now, I have to take a handful of vitamins to keep the 'ol bones from creakin'.
6. The NEED for coffee every morning. It's a "miracle drug" really. This narcotic helps me get things moving along, in more ways than one. And YOU know what I mean!
7. Forgetfulness. This is actually my husband's issue, not mine. But it affects me too. I am now the "reminder" of: missing keys, wallets in pockets and sunglasses on the forehead. I now recite the mental list of things he could be missing... cell phone--- "check", watch--- "check" you get the picture.
8. Hiring younger and younger interns for the office and then, not being able to relate. I talk about my college years (playing Quarters/mix tapes), television shows ( Little House on the Prairie to Moonlighting) and my first car ( '84 Mustang). My colleagues think I'm a relic dug up from the ashes.
9. Comfortable shoes. I am "on the lookout" for a six inch, comfortable (slutty) heel that doesn't come from Natrulizer or Life Stride.
10. Technology. I am so tired of Texting. Why can't people just call me? I hate having to text back. I know, embrace technology....blah, blah, blah....how 'bout embrace verbal communication, something without a colon and a parenthesis as a "smile." :)

I feel much better getting these out in the open. Do you have anything that makes you feel older? Comment below!!

Disneyland Still Rocks...

Well, I pulled the end of the year surprise on the kiddos...a trip to Disneyland! Tony and I picked them up from school (1/2 day) last Thursday and had their bags packed for a little trip. For two weeks, they thought we were headed up to our summer cabin in Utah. They didn't know we bought a 3 day hopper vacation to Disneyland. So, it was past the California Inspection booth...ahh..."any plants, fruits in the vehicle," past the Los Angeles signs and 15 to the 60 to the 57 fwy. In fact, it wasn't until I stopped the car in front of a hotel bearing a big Disneyland sign with Mickey Mouse in his Wizard hat...that the kids still didn't know where we were.

I must disclose their report cards here, because you may be thinking they are "stupid is as stupid does". Maddie got the Straight A Honor Roll, the Principal award and Max passed his classes too. Sadly, Maddie had her head in a book, How To Steal A Dog by Barbara O'Connor (yes, I'm now reading it, its on my desk here) and Max was drawn into his Nintendo DS. Thank Goodness for such good passengers. Too bad they DIDN'T LOOK OUT THE WINDOW!!

On to Disneyland...and this new place, California Adventure. I grew up in Irvine and you'd think I'd know more about Cali, So Cal or whatever people call it these days. I recall when you'd buy the tickets for $13.00 and then tear them out of the little booklet. A tickets to E tickets. I remember when Space Mtn. was an E ticket and the Main Street Horse ride was an A ticket. We never took the horse ride. It was reserved for old people. And, you'd always go home with the A tickets left for the next trip to "D-land". I also remember that "America Sings...America the Beautiful" ride, sponsored by Monsanto...they made you stand in a row and watch a movie of America, then my friends and I would "crank call" people on the free phone booths outside the theater. Oh, the good old days!!

So what happened over the years to cause me to hate the rides? I think its the dozen or so years that I stopped riding roller coasters, too busy with sippy cups and Pull Ups to remember "what fun" is all about. I watch too much CSI and "the roller coaster that falls off the track" episodes.

I used to be the one to ride the same coaster over and over. Just get right back in line. Over and Over. Now, I freak out and the only way to control my anxiety is with closed eyes and a prayer. I hate to admit that I closed my eyes on California Screamin. But, when we got off the ride and looked at the pictures posted for purchase, my husband just laughed and said "How do you keep 'em closed the whole time?"

The same picture popped up at every ride. Tony, Maddie and Max; eyes wide open, smiling and arms waving in the air....ohh, the fun they were having. Caprice... eyes tightly closed, hands gripping the bar, face smashed and distorted. A small tear forming in her eye. Not exactly the picture of the Happiest Place on Earth for me! My husband kept teasing that he would buy the picture because it cracked him up so. Just what he needs on the credenza of his office. He did buy the picture at Splash Mountain. Just after I took the big gush of water for our family. Front row!

Anyhow, Disneyland still rocks. (The wine and beer carts at California Adventure are a great addition for a gal who doesn't have a prescription for Xanax.) The kids have a memory of their last day of school in 2009. Tony has a new picture on his desk at work and I have memories of how it used to be...

If you have Disneyland memories, (old or new)or anything to share please comment!
PS- I am not posting the picture of me at Splash Mtn...Tony won't give it back to me!

Two Boobs or Not Two Boobs...That is The Question

Last week I went to a breast augmentation consultation. Those who know me, may have known this fact...and know that "my girls do not run a cup'ith over". I am small breasted. And, as my Aunt Andrea put it once, "Honey, boobs are an item you don't want the passing grade on", i.e... an A or B cup.

I brought Tony, for the moral and literal "support". Spoke to my closest of friends who also gave me the 'ol ..."you look great the way you are, but if you want 'em, I understand" speeches. I do want em, though. I've wanted "my girls" to grow since puberty. The only time I ever filled a cup, was when I was either pregnant, breast feeding or yes...a little chubby. I lost nearly twenty pounds two years ago and the first five were my "boobages". I swore I would either: eat a Costco-sized bag of Resses' peanut butter cups and a soda to gain them back...or continue to lose weight. I chose the latter.

The consultation was the epitome of what you'd look for in a Doctor's office. The whole experience was a bit overwhelming; beyond perfect. The medical assistants were lovely, the Plastic Surgeon was the George Clooney/Mc Dreamy you only imagine on television. I felt so welcome and comfortable in the office. Ah, did I mention the bathroom? On a side note, the bathroom was decorated in marble and rather than a paper towel dispenser hanging on the wall, sitting on the marble counter was a silver bowl of hand rolled, white, fluffy washcloths. I felt like I was at the Ritz Carlton. So, what was the problem, you ask? My husband!

Tony, a man of sound mind sat quietly in the corner watching the consultation between the Doctor and myself. He asked a few pertinent questions, such as: "Will the valve be visible through the skin"... "how big should we go here?"... and, "how soon can we schedule the appointment?" With questions like this, I knew he was "on board".

The best part of the consult was the "boob fitting." I was asked to put on a sports bra and try on several different sizes, called CC's. I tried on four sizes before I found the right fit for me/380cc. Then, I took the sample breasts out and handed them back to the nurse. As I did this, Tony, ever so subtly, gave me his thumbs up...suggesting he really likes me... the way I am! It was at this moment, I remembered why I married him.

He doesn't want the boobs, despite a few of his friends "high fiving" him for my decision to augment. He loves me for who I am, and really I should love myself for who I am. That's it. I don't have a deformity, requiring surgery. My small boobs aren't lopsided. They don't droop to my knees. I don't have enough to droop. I only breast fed one kid.

So, it took this appointment to reach my epiphany. At this point, I am saying no to a pair of personal floatation devices. I may want them, later. But for now...I am more content. I am also a role model for my puberty-reaching daughter as well. I want her to feel okay with her body. I am also without material, I was writing the journey, as a book. It would have been a good topic too!

So, as Shakespeare wrote: "To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer..." I suffer not...knowing my husband is happy; just the way he married me.

I would love to hear your comments. This topic was a brave disclosure for me, so be kind! :)

Some Coffee Talk...

I recently got my drink on...coffee that is. Wouldn't touch the stuff 'til I turned fort...oh, never mind. I like the fancy coffees though. Whipped cream, a swirl of chocolate, chocolate shavings, caramel...you get the picture! Nothing like starting your day with a large (venti) non-fat,white chocolate, iced latte to get things moving along. Some things your mother won't tell you, ahh, but I will. Like, the benefits of coffee when you need to get things moving...

My friend, Sarah admitted to her coffee addiction to me. Get this...she now takes to running each morning, yes... running to her new local coffee house, Saxby's. This coffee house serves special latte concoctions like: Almond Joy, Kit Kat and Snickerdoodle. Suddenly, you feel like a kid in a candy store. They basically market their coffee for adults who "miss" candy bars. And, I think the candy bar would have less calories. Not that I count calories.

A double shot of addiction - chocolate and caffeine. Ahhh, I can feel the caffeine "high", and the shakes, too.

As I said, this friend runs to Saxby's daily, with her debit card and "frequent drinker" card (hidden in her sock), drinks her "candy bar coffee" and then with a little more pep in her step...heads home. She can't return home with the evidence (you see, her twelve year old daughter likes a little "Saxby's fix" too) so she quickly drinks up. Then, and I kid you not...she confessed that she tosses her cup in the dog park's poop receptacle. She claims its the only receptacle along her path home. Evidence... gone.

Now, I don't wanna be the one to say she has an addiction. And, her brisk daily walk (for liquid candy bars) is a great exercise. I can't fault her for that! But, when you begin hiding coffee cups from the family, ahh...you might have a problem.

I am planning an intervention soon. A real coffee talk...for Sarah!

If you have an addiction, an "innocent addiction" that is...(I don't wanna get my substance abuse license out and have to counsel ya) please share...I would love to hear what secret addiction you have! Post below...

Rocket Scientist for Hire...

I used to pride myself on being a "tech geek." I could program my VCR to record Melrose Place and Friends, with ease in the 90's. I enjoyed reprogramming microwave oven clocks, too. I don't mind saying this is what I brought to the table. Its one of the reasons my husband married me.

Yet, much to his dismay, I have lost my edge...

Rewind to when Tony asked if I could, "Please reset all the thermostats in the house". That was a week ago. I know this because it has taken me that long to figure out that we have three of them. Yes, three A/C's for me to synchronize. I would have waited longer but the temperature touched a sizzlin' three digit number this week and I am melting in the house. Personal sauna. Las Vegas Style.

I did manage to select the correct temperature and time that the A/C would cycle. I spent a mere forty five minutes on this. A real rocket scientist moment. Upon hitting the "set" button I felt like I was ready to tackle any electronic device.

Until of course, I noticed there is a "day setting" as well. So, it goes without saying...that in our bedroom it is Monday, in the hallway to the kitchen it is Monday...and of course in the kids' hallway it is now... Thursday. A time warp is my only explanation for this error. I dare to reset the whole dang thing and start over. I think its okay for the kids to be three days ahead of us, or four days behind, whichever. I mean, we don't use the thermostat as a calendar. I don't walk up to the thermostat for the time and date. So, why does this bug me so?

Its the little things that get to me. Have you got something little that gets to you? Anything bugging you? Please share, I would feel a whole lot better and don't forget to join this blog while you're here!

Procrastination Strikes...Again!

Oddly enough, I procrastinated in getting a story written on time... again. Then, I was reminded of the many "imperative things" I must get done before sitting my ass on my chair and getting down to business. I came up with a list of necessary to do's:

1. Unload dishwasher
2. Make the beds, including dog's
3. Empty the trash cans throughout the house, seven to be exact.
4. Iron socks
5. Feed stray kittens
6. Clean oven with a toothbrush
7. Alphabetize my spice rack
8. Knit a sweater
9. Start a scrapbook
10. Re tile the bathroom shower

Hopefully, my procrastination will end and my story will begin. In the meantime, I'll have an awesome spice rack!

Tell me what you do to procrastinate, and how you get over the illness! Comment below and don't forget to join while you're here...

Ten Things You Must Not Skimp on...Despite the Economy!

I wanted to share an epiphany I had late last night upon dragging the garbage out to the curb for the morning pick up. I realized my "money saving ways" are actually costing me! Little did I know the non-brand name garbage bags would cause me such grief....and a clean up. I only dragged them from: the kitchen, down the hallway through the laundry room to the garage and out the driveway. All the while leaking "something sticky" on the slate floors! Nice...now I have to mop that up. Makes me wish I had those ridiculous "mop slippers" I saw recently at Walgreen's. Anyhow, I decided to share a list of the ten things you really should not be skimping on...

1. Garbage bags, read above.

2. A good hair color. Try and imagine what could go wrong here.

3. Underwear. Or, any under garments. Why be uncomfortable? If you "can buy 'em at Costco" (in bulk, 6 for $10.00) don't do it. Your husband will thank you for this. I am saving your marriage here!

4. Corn Flakes. The kids "know the difference" and no one will eat them. Okay, maybe the dog if he's really hungry.

5. Tape. Have you ever bought "cheap tape" and then you can't pry it off the roll and its ever so frustrating, you end up using masking tape to wrap a kid's birthday present...

6. Wine. Enough said.

7. Sunscreen. I bought some "off brand" last year, only to have my husband apply it to his face and scream when it felt like sandpaper. He didn't appreciate the exfoliation that went with his application!

8. Shoes. Cheap shoes hurt. Cheap shoes look like cheap shoes. Sometimes, no shoes would be better than cheap shoes!

9. Sheets. I believe, if you were to do the cost per day, sheets cost very little in the end. So, splurge on the Sateen 800 count. My mother in law reminded me of the sheets I purchased for her guest bed in 1997. We laughed at how scratchy they were. She even brought her own, the next time she came to visit! No joke!!

10. Cosmetics. Girls, this is an area we can't go drug storin' on. A good foundation, a nice eyeliner...you know what I'm talkin' about.

I would love to hear what you "refuse to skimp" on...comment below!!
Happy Shopping!

Diamonds in my crotch...

Yes, you read it correctly, "Diamonds in my crotch". I was travelling on the 215 fwy, (that's in hot, hot Las Vegas) one afternoon, with my daughter, Maddie in the car. I think we were headed to gymnastics. We are always headed there (four times a week) but who's counting. Ok, I am counting...

So, I was driving down the road with the A/C full blast because it was so damn hot that day, you could fry an egg (and bacon) on the hood of the car. I haven't tried it, but if we're ever late for school, that would be a quick way to get breakfast to the kids. "Hey kids! Grab your 'Hood Breakfast and get to class."

Anyhow, I was driving with the A/C, kid in car and all I could hear was..."blah, blah, blah...I want diamonds for my crotch." Now, we live in Vegas and I know there are alot of skanky billboards on the road. I can't blindfold the kids' eyes during car rides. So, I am thinking, did she see a scantily clad gal adorned in diamonds? Is that what is meant by: "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas"?

Then, she says: "Mom we can get matching ones and be twins."

Okay, I had to stop this train wreck of a conversation and fast. So, I say, "Maddie, what did you just say... we should get matching diamonds for our... crotch?" She laughs, probably because she thinks her mom is an idiot at this point. (And, she might be right this time.)

"No mom, I said we should get matching diamonds for our Crocs!"

True story... I just remembered it because she is having "the talk" at school today, with the ever educational, school nurse. I dedicate this blog to all the embarrassed, 5th graders today. If you have a memory of "the talk" or if your wear diamonds on your...never mind, I don't wanna know about it...if you have a comment, please share it!