fuck cancer

Penn State

2011-11-07T18:10:00.001-08:00

Penn State is my heart. That is what happens when you marry into the sort of alumni fandom that Steve displayed so proudly. He loved that school more than anything. So did I. I’ve probably spent more time in State College in the past 10 years than I have at my own college campus (which is 15 minutes away). I’ve attended football games, tailgated in sub-freezing temperatures, eaten ice cream at the creamery and posed for more pictures riding the Nittany lion than I can count. The view of Mt. Nittany from Loryn’s parent’s back deck is my most favorite view in the world. I hiked it in the heat of summer to scatter Steve’s ashes at the top, making sure they were overlooking Beaver Stadium. Its the wallpaper on my laptop and my phone. I’ve planned on both my girls to go to school there since before they were born.

My heart breaks more and more everyday as more stories are emerging on the kind of scandal that the Penn State community is just not used to.

The list of people who failed that child grows lengthier by the day. It goes all the way up. All the way to Joe Paterno.

In my house, Joe Paterno was held in higher regard than any other authority figure ever. If Delaney was a boy, her name was going to be Joseph Patrick so that we could use the nickname ‘JoePa’. Steve tried talking me into Josephine Patricia when the ultrasound said ‘girl’ but I vetoed. He was our hero.

I don’t think I can forgive him for the decisions he made and the lack of action he took.

When confronted with the kind of information he was trusted with, he had one responsibility. It wasn’t to the coaching staff or football players. It wasn’t to the alumni or the board of trustees. It was to that child. And he failed. Epically, hugely failed. By not going to the police, he also failed all the children who came after that child. And there were more. While Joe Paterno cannot be held responsible for the actions of those who work under him, he can be held responsible for making the choice to essentially look the other way by passing the buck off to the general manager and then claiming he did his job by informing someone. That someone who then made the decision to also not call the police and to just tell Jerry Sandusky to please stop bringing young boys by the locker room, mmkay?

Hell help you, Mr. Sandusky, had you been found assaulting a 10 year old boy in the locker room by me (or 99% of other parents for that matter). The police would have been called only after you were beaten with whatever large, blunt object was accessible. For anyone presenting the point, ‘well its hard to say what anyone would do in that situation’ are you kidding me? We’re not talking about finding out your boss was involved in some wiretapping scandal or that your accountant was embezzling money from his clients.

We’re talking about finding a grown man assaulting a child in a university locker room.

If you don’t know that the right thing to do in that situation is to at the VERY LEAST call the goddamn police and maybe hey, stop that guy, I have no words for you. This is at the very core of knowing the difference between right and wrong. And so many people in a position of power did not do what was right. Whether this is ‘illegal’ or not, I have no idea. I just know how wrong it is. And my moral compass doesn’t necessarily point in the same direction as a lot of people. So that’s saying something.

The issue here isn’t how sad it is that the reputation of a world class football program with more integrity than most has irreparably damaged. Its that so many people chose to look the other way when a child was being harmed. That’s the real tragedy. That’s the kind of damage that lasts forever.

We are.

I'm probably totally not qualified for choosing my child's daycare but you can't contract that responsibility out yet

2011-08-11T18:35:00.001-07:00

Picking childcare has to be in the top five hardest things that most parents go though. I include picking a preschool or mothers day out program in this bucket. Being the one responsible for the environment your child will spend 9 hours (or more) a day in is tough. Really tough. The only thing tougher would be not having a choice at all. If you were really limited in terms of location or cost, that would definitely be worse. I’m VERY lucky in that Stephen and I are fairly flexible. Neither of us have to be sitting at our desks at either 8am or 6pm. We don’t live really far away from our offices. We’re fortunate that we can afford ‘good’ daycare and not the non-licensed semi-crazy lady by the airport. You get the idea. That said, its still a really tough choice and after you wade through state requirements and monitoring inspection reports/violations (some are serious, some are kinda dumb) you have to use your judgement. Clearly I’m not going to choose anywhere that has been shut down by the state or who has a history of hiring sex offenders. Once a decent report card has been established, you move on to subjective matters such as ‘is it relatively clean for a daycare? and ‘does the staff look like they beat children when the parents aren’t around?’ or ‘is anyone taped to a chair?’ ‘do they use macs or PCs in their computer lab?’, etc. Although seriously, if the little boogers have a COMPUTER lab, they could probably do worse.

Not every place is a fit for every family. We didn’t have a spectacular experience at the first daycare center the girls went to, but I wouldn’t go as far as to say it was awful or you would be better off leaving your kids in a prison daycare than there. It just wasn’t the right fit for us. No harm, no bad-mouthing (in public anyway). You move on and find something else.

We were in LOVE with the at-home daycare we moved to next from the first day. The girls thrived there beyond all my hopes and expectations. I’d have no problem keeping Alby there until kindergarten, but since we’re moving I just can’t have her in the car over 2 hours a day just to avoid researching new daycares. That’s just not a long term solution. She’s only 2. She’ll be in daycare awhile. So onward I went to the internet to find a list of places to choose from. Texas department of family and protective services has a list of all registered/licensed daycares in the state. Its a good starting point. I made my list of acceptable locations and began touring. Well, I almost began touring.

A chance conversation with a coworker led to some information regarding the first school on my list that made me immediately cancel my scheduled tour. 1 down 2 to go.

Toured school number 2. I liked it. I wasn’t blown away, but I definitely liked it. It had been awhile since I was at a daycare center and had to remind myself that however they market themselves, a “private preschool” who watches children from 6am-6pm is a daycare. Sorry people. Facts are facts. As far as daycares went, this was a good one. Tons of stuff for kids to do. Sweet looking staff. A couple of male teachers (always kind of surprising) mildly rough-housing with some of the older boys in the gym. It made me smile.

Toured school 3. The one with accredited teachers and the fanciest street address of them all. Wood floors. Seriously. That’s as fancy as daycare gets. Crazy nice playground that was fully shaded and their own garden. White House-tight security at the front door and vegan options on the lunch menu. Nice, non-violent looking staff. On paper this looks like a WINNER. There wasn’t anything ‘wrong’ with it at all. I know people who have their kids at this school and they are very happy with it. I REALLY hope no one gets offended by this.

Here is why I didn’t pick it.

It didnt even occur to me until later. I was trying to put into words to Stephen WHY I was leaning towards the other school while maintaining my “theres nothing wrong with this one, really there isn’t” stance. “The other school just felt more ‘something’ that this one didn’t.” “No, I can’t clarify what I mean by that.”

School number 3 was too quiet. Way too quiet. I realized later that I didn’t remember hearing a single kid laughing. We passed every room. I didn’t see a teacher holding a child in their lap. All the kids looked happy. No one was crying. But there was no NOISE. That may be a huge positive for some people. The place seemed calm and orderly and safe. I’m probably in the minority who wants to see some every day drama. At least one kid being comforted by their teacher who is essentially a stand-in for their mom. Maybe its because they do such a good job that the kids don’t NEED to be picked up. Maybe they have a ‘no picking up the children’ policy. I have no idea. My fault for not asking. Some kids need structure and an accredited spanish teacher. Call me if you do. I have the perfect school for you. Seriously, its super nice.

I just didn’t think it was the perfect school for Alby. She’s more 2 than 3. She’s sensitive and cautious. She’ll need a little more babying. She’s being separated from her sister for the first time in her entire life. She’s leaving her beloved Miss Shirley and all her friends. She’s moving from the only home she’s ever known and into a new house. All in the span of a couple weeks. Life is going to be a little tough on her for awhile. She needs all the hugs and kisses and tickles and giggles she can get. I’m not claiming she WOULDN’T get these things at school 3. I just had that mama feeling about school 2.

I’m not above admitting I’m wrong. If Alby starts chucking rocks at teachers like her sister did in their first daycare, I’ll move her ass up the street for some structure and wood floors and spanish lessons. In the meantime I hope some of those dudes working at daycare 2 give good airplane rides and know how to flip a child upside down without making them barf. If not, I'll have Stephen show them how.

I am so very, very, very lucky

2011-06-29T09:28:00.000-07:00

All my test results were negative. The tumor was benign. The nodules weren't even tumors they were something else that grows on your thyroid and are pretty common. Not a trace of cancer anywhere. Glad we got rid of the whole freakin thing though.

Everything went as well as it possibly could have. No infection. No post-surgery complications other than a bad allergic reaction to something they put on my neck during surgery. My entire neck is red, swollen, crusty and just generally hideous looking. If this is what a 'no cancer' diagnosis looks like, bring it. I'll love my leprosy ridden neck from now til the day I die. People can just deal. :)

The hope, of course, is that the reaction will subside and in a few weeks it will look normal. Til then, I'll put a big bandage on it in public to keep from scaring the masses with what I'm sure appears to be a raging case of flesh eating bacteria. It doesn't even itch that bad.

I started the synthroid this morning. Just in time too. I spent yesterday crying and feeling stabby. I knew it was from having my thyroid out without having replaced its function with the drugs. It still felt awful though. Today I feel fine. There's no way that one morning of synthroid medicine is all it takes to get me back on an even keel but I swear I feel good. The coolest surprise was that the pills are $4 a month. Bad. Ass.

I'll still need a few more days to recover before I'm ready to rejoin society. I can't drive just yet and I have to be really careful with my incision since all the tape came off a few days early. I'm working on eating again since I don't really have my appetite back yet and the doc said the drugs could make me lose a little weight. I've got some amazing people taking care of me though, and all in all I feel fantastic.

Thank you to everyone for all the thoughts and warm wishes and good juju. It got me through the past week in one piece and I've never been so grateful. I don't know what I've done to deserve such wonderful people in my life, but seriously, thank you.

big squishy hugs.
KQ

Hey cancer, fuck off and leave us Quinns alone already.

2011-06-26T06:49:00.000-07:00

My turn.

The past few years of my life have been spent as an anxious spectator, being worried about people I love who are sick. Waiting on someone else’s test results has become a regular activity for me. I had a years worth of it with Steve and then the past few months with Alby. As of about a week ago, I’m coming at it from the other side. Now its my turn to make someone else worry. (sorry, Stephen)

A little over a week ago at my annual ob/gyn appt, my nurse practitioner was feeling my neck and said my thyroid was enlarged. She made the same observation last year but when we had 2 other doctors check it out, neither one of them thought it was enlarged. We let it go. Fast forward to 2011 and she feels it again. This time we decide we need to know what’s going on. I got sent next door for bloodwork and an ultrasound. A couple of days later I get the call from the doc that my thyroid is enlarged and has a large mass taking over the left side (read, tumor) and some smaller nodules on the right. I get referred to a surgeon for a biopsy to see what we’re dealing with.

The surgeon and I went over the ultrasound report and I quickly came to understand that just doing a fine needle biopsy wasn’t an option. This mass on the left side is almost 3 inches in diameter. Its bigger than the thyroid itself. I need surgery to remove the left half of my thyroid. After a few more discussions with another doc, its decided to remove the whole thing since one of the smaller nodules is only 1mm smaller than the size they would want to remove. In the interest of saving me from a second thyroid surgery, I’m totally onboard for them to take out not only my thyroid but anything else they find in there that doesn’t look like it belongs. This was Thursday the 23rd. They got me into surgery for the next day (ie the day before yesterday)

The best thing about having surprise surgery is that you don’t have time to worry about it. No time to panic. No time to fret over all the ‘what ifs’ of not only the surgery itself but whats going to happen after. I had barely enough time to pack a bag, eat one last good meal and buy antibacterial soap for my pre-surgery shower. I didn’t even have enough time to tell everyone what was going on, so I picked a few people i knew would get the word out and put them in charge of updating the masses. Plus after seeing the look on my boss’s face, i didn’t have the heart to tell anyone else face to face. He was a close second to how hard it was to tell Stephen. His eyes got all wet and blinky and I knew he was worried about ME not about any projects I was working on that he now had to find someone else to cover.

My surgery was 3 hours long. Everything went fine. I spent 24 hours in the hospital and then was sent home with a badass neck scar and even more badass pain meds. I was reminded yet again at how amazing my friends are. I got flowers and cookies and more ‘i love you’ text messages than I’ve gotten in years. They went a long way in aiding my recovery and anxiety. I know that no matter what the outcome of this is that I’ll be fine and I have no shortage of people to make me laugh or bring me ice water. :)

My parents are here taking care of the girls so that Stephen can take care of me. I’m trying to put myself back in his shoes (where I was for so long) so that he can worry a little less and sleep a little more. Its way easier being the sick person than the person worried about the sick person. I can’t tell you how good it feels to wake up from a drug induced nap,not quite sure where you are and to look over and see Stephen sitting in the chair next to my bed playing angry birds and smiling when he sees me open my eyes. I’d be in bad shape without him here. WITH him here, i feel like a million bucks.

My best friend Michelle sent out a note telling our friends to come up with a good neck scar story for me to tell people in the future. My friend Steve Lawrence had the best one. Here it is:

The flash of Darth Vader's lightsaber almost caught the fearless padawan off guard. Yet even so early in her Jedi training, she was able to strike back with precision and grace.
"Yoda would be proud", she thought. "The scar is but a small reminder - the Force is strong."

I found this fitting since we named my tumor admiral ackbar and I wore my star wars pajama pants the whole time in the hospital.

I’ll let everyone know what the test results are. Until then, man up. There are people out there who really deserve your worry and sympathy. I’m feeling fine. :) That’s not to say I’d turn down cupcakes or hugs. Its impossible to have enough of either.

In the meantime, check out my cool neck scar. I'm proud of it.

My Alby

2011-06-01T21:14:00.000-07:00

Me: “Alby, where’s your belly???”
Smiling 2 year old pulls up t-shirt and puts hands on belly.
Alby: “belly bot!” (belly button, but duh, you figured that out) “mickey diaper!” “boo-boo kneeeeee!”

Hearing this conversation, you wouldn’t think she was that far behind. Until you really think about it and realize this is more of an 18 month old’s conversation not a 32 month old’s conversation.

Also if I told you it was probably the best understood conversation we have. More often than not, I don’t know what Alby is saying the first time she says it. Sometimes I figure it out. In fact, a lot of times I do. But it takes a lot of repeating, hand gestures, guessing, process of elimination and finally holding her up in the pantry and letting her grab whatever it is she wanted before I understand ‘affishackr’ = ‘goldfish crackers’. Then its a process of committing that to memory for the next time I hear ‘affishackr’

We started the formal process of really working with Alby to build/fix her vocabulary and sensory issues a little over a year ago. Its been a really great year. She’s come SO far. A year ago, she had 2 words. Mommy and Elmo. Now I’ve lost count. The problem is that a lot of the words aren’t technically correct. She still says ‘pup’ for ‘cup’ and ‘sock’ for ‘snack’. But that’s HER word for cup and HER word for snack, so it gets a pass as a vocab word. We’ll deal with the technicalities later. For now, she gets weekly therapy at daycare and is learning to not scream or cry when another toddler gets too close to her, or if she gets crumbs on her fingers.

When we hit the year mark we re-evaluated Alby and were sort of surprised at what we found. When all the results were plotted out on the neat little graphs, it showed that Alby had only progressed about 8 months in the past 12 months. This means that she’s technically more behind than she was a year ago. Now we know that tests aren’t everything. Especially tests on what a 2 year old (who does NOT want to participate) knows. All we can officially ‘result’ is what she’s willing to do for us. It didn’t really change any of our new goals for Alby. It was just a little discouraging. We did another round of hearing tests that didn’t fare much better. We know Alby isn’t deaf. Far from it. But according to the test results, she can’t hear. This is what happens when you have an unwilling test subject. The audiologist watched Alby for a little bit, asked a lot of questions and then recommended something that I was surprised I hadn’t heard before. He wanted to do a hearing test under sedation (an ABR) and while she was sedated, do an MRI and a CT scan to rule out any physical abnormalities with her inner ear or her brain.

Alby has a couple strikes against her. One is that she was a month early and her blood oxygen dropped so much after she was born that she turned purple and landed in the NICU for a couple days. While no one is claiming that she has brain damage, it is one of those smoking gun things they want to rule out. Alby’s second strike is, unfortunately, Steve. Steve’s cancer was very rare and very aggressive. It attacked some part of the nerve cells that grow on your brain and spine. I’ve learned that if you have a parent who dies of cancer, you get a huge red X on our own medical file that lands you in the category of ‘higher risk’ for developing cancer yourself.

Any of these things on their own don’t look TOO alarming. Maybe not even alarming enough to subject a 2 year old to general anesthesia and the bombardment of radiation that comes with an MRI and CT. But if you take a step back and look at the big picture of Alby...that’s when the decision to have these tests done gets a lot easier to make.

We head to the hospital at 9:30 Friday morning. They’ll put Alby under one time and perform all 3 scans throughout the day. Then they’ll wake her up, observe her for a bit and we’ll go home. The IV will be the most invasive part of the tests. On an adult, these would be no biggie but you can’t politely ask a 2 year old to lay completely still in an MRI tube for 20 minutes.

I’ve repeated this story a bunch of times to friends and coworkers. I’ve had a couple people ask me if I’m more freaked out than I’m letting on. This momentarily made me feel like a bad mom, but after thinking about it I feel justified in my relative calm.

We’ve been here before.

We’ve been through way worse than this before.

We can handle this.

My hope is that we’ll be told that everything is totally fine and we just need to keep up with her therapy and that eventually she’ll catch up and be in regular classes at school and go to Harvard and make us all proud. That her odd behavior is because she’s 2 and 2 year olds are weird, man. Or we could be told that Alby can’t hear everything we say because she’s missing this miniscule bone in her inner ear and this explains her speech delays, clumsiness and general frustration level.

Or we could be told that there is something devastatingly, medically wrong with our precious 2 year old who in our eyes is totally perfect just the way she is. I know better than anyone that NOT knowing is not going to make anything any better. Its not going to help me sleep at night. Its not going to help Alby learn the difference between what sound C makes and that cup doesn’t start with P. Its not going to do anyone any favors to remain in the dark.

So onward we go. Back to the world of hospitals and magnetic resonance imaging machines.

Hopefully for the last time.

I’ll keep everyone updated. My assumption is that we won’t find out much until sometime next week (results wise)

KQ

Why Mother's Day Matters

2011-05-08T19:52:00.000-07:00

Happy Mother's Day

365 days a year, Moms do this job relatively thanklessly. We feed, clothe, clean, listen, play, teach, mold, read to, and hug our little humans with little more thanks than kisses, hugs, smiles and giggles in return. We all knew it was a thankless job. I mean no one is in this for the money, right? The job is the most long-term of investments. The pay day coming many many many years in the future when your child is old enough and wise enough to realize all of the selfless years of mothering that went into creating a self-sufficient empathetic human being that is a contributing member of society. Usually this happens around the time they make little humans of their own and finally get all the work that went into being a mom.

A Mom’s job is really hard.

Think about all the other things you do without the instant gratification of knowing you did a good job and that your efforts didn’t go unappreciated. There’s not many. Even at work, I get told on a semi-regular basis that I’m a valued member of the ‘team’ and that people are more or less glad I’m around. I also get paid.

We mother for free.

Well not technically for free since there are the non-monetary payouts listed above. On paper it looks ludicrous. That someone would be willing to wipe a boogery nose or scrub playdoh out of the carpet day in and day out for little more than a smile and the feeling of tiny arms squeezed around your knees in return. (my kids are tiny so you may get more of a neck squeeze if your humans are bigger than mine).

Its mind boggling all the things moms are tasked with. Not just the BIG stuff. The epic responsibility that comes with being entrusted with this completely dependent little person who relies on you for everything from milk and diapers to learning how to be a good person that no one fantasizes about punching in the face. That’s BIG stuff. Then there’s the millions of little things.

Remembering to bring the goldfish crackers and fruit snacks on a 20 minute trip to Target.
Remembering to bring the blankie and the right sippy cup regardless of WHERE you’re going.
Remembering that a 4 year olds brain is not capable of remembering to use the potty before leaving the house without a reminder from you.
Remembering that your 2 year old likes to hide food in the seat of their ride-on mickey mouse airplane.
Remembering the sunscreen, and bug spray.
Remembering to do their laundry first so that the Elmo t-shirts and princess Tiana socks are clean every week while you make do with what clothing of yours you were able to shove in the washing machine.
Remembering the science project the day before its due.
Remembering to pack her cheerleading shoes and gym shorts on a Friday that you know she’ll need Monday when she’s spending the weekend at her Dad’s b/c you know that he wont remember.
Remembering to always have AA batteries in the house for the twilight turtle nightlight lest it go dark at 11pm while someone isn’t quite asleep and is still in need of said turtle.
Remembering to always interject a ‘what do you say?’ when your toddler asks for something for the first thousand times so that they finally catch on and remember to say ‘please’ for the next million.
Remembering to pay the mortgage, car note, health insurance, gas bill, electric bill, water bill, credit card bill, HOA dues, and pest control bill so that your human remains blissfully unaware of the complexities of real world responsibilities until they’re ready. Complexities like having you house repossessed or living somewhere crawling with spiders.
Remembering all the doctor, dentist, school appointments
Remembering all the food allergies of not only your kids but all your kids’ friends.
Remembering to spell out ‘f-u-c-k’ so that your toddler doesn’t repeat it in daycare, HEB, church, grandmas house, etc.
Remembering to keep the right cartoon character band-aids, breakfast cereal, underwear, and toothbrush in the house.

Looking at this VERY abbreviated list, I don’t think 1 day out of 365 to get a day off from having to be the one to remember these things is too much to ask. Some time off to nap, get a pedicure, read a book, regain misplaced sanity as a thank you for raising your spawn wouldn’t hurt either.

I am grateful to know an abundance of truly amazing Moms. I learn from them every day. I also do my best to be the kind of Mom my own Mama raised. I’m not sure if I do her proud or not. I hope so.

Be grateful for what the Mamas do. The world would collapse in on itself and die without them.

Don't forget about all the Dads, Grandmas, Grandpas, Aunts and Uncles who do the jobs of the Moms. This is their day too.

Don't forget about the single Moms who do the job of 2 parents either. They should also get a "Mother's Day". They miss out on enough. My friend David remembered me this morning and sent me a 'good morning, happy mothers day!' text. It got me through what would have otherwise been a pretty tough day.

good night, everyone and go hug your Moms!!!

Dear Kady

2011-04-19T20:20:00.000-07:00

Dear Kady,
I’ve been thinking about you and your sweet Mama all week. Even though you’re the one going though surgery tomorrow, you and I both know that this is going to be waaaaay harder on your Mom than it is on you. You’ll go to sleep, wake up and wonder what the hell everyone is fussing over you for. My advice is to roll with it and maybe even milk it a little bit, kiddo. Before you know it, you’ll be back at home fending off your my little pony collection from your baby sister. I know she snags your stuff when your mom isn't looking. I was a little sister too. The next few days would be the time to ask for that new puppy or Tangled Fairy Princess Playset. Just don’t push it too far. Your parents are worried enough.

You are going to be fine. When you’re all grown up, you’ll look back with wonder and awe at what the best doctors in the country can fix on a tiny 5 year old’s brain. Its truly, truly awesome.

When you’re all better, I’m taking you and Krista and your Mama out for some fun girl time with your Austin counterparts, Delaney and Alby. Krista and Alby can negotiate strategies for getting you and Delaney in trouble for things you didn’t do and you and D can discuss the best ways to little sister-proof your bedrooms. I’m sure the conversation will turn to barbies and who is a better princess, Ariel or Belle and that’s cool too. We’ll paint our toenails and get pink ice cream and do other girlie things while the Dads get a break and go play golf or some other boring thing that boys do.

When you get a little bit older, I can’t wait to tell you stories about your Mom when she was a teenager. I have some good ones. I promise to remind her of the things we used to do when we were young when she’s “had it up to HERE with your teenage attitude young lady, and where do you think you’re going dressed like that??” Take heart in knowing that thanks to your Mom’s good genes, you’ll still get carded for R rated movies long after having kids of your own. Be nice to your less fortunate friends and don’t rub in your utterly flawless face too much. We should all be so lucky to be as beautiful and age-defying as the Daily girls. :)

SO many people are thinking about you and sending you good juju.

You get your tiny little butt all healed up fast! Don’t forget to hug your Mom. She loves you more than you can possibly imagine.

All my love,
Kathie

One lucky bitch who needs to be reminded how lucky she is

2011-01-23T19:36:00.000-08:00

Yes I'm referring to me.
My new years resolution was to complain less. I didn’t really share this with anyone b/c I knew it would be hard and I didn’t want my friends rubbing it in my face every time I bitched and moaned about something. I’ve caught myself about 300 times outwardly complaining and its only January 23d. This does not include all the times I’ve muttered under my breath or thought to myself how unfortunate I am. New Years Resolution fail.

The worst is when I commit the offense of what is my biggest pet peeve. When people complain about things they should be GRATEFUL for. Like fall on your knees and thank baby Jesus grateful. Instead, what do we do? Bitch.

I get on my friends a lot for this. Every time one of them complains that their husbands have to go out of town for a few days or even worse GO BACK TO WORK FOR 8 WHOLE HOURS A DAY AFTER BEING HOME WITH YOU FOR A MONTH. Gee. However will you survive on your own.
If you can’t manage for 8 hours a day with your OWN kids, maybe you shouldn’t have had them. I’ll give you the freak out if you only have 1 kid. There’s no way to know how hard it is until you’ve already set sail and there’s no way back. But if you’ve been freaked for the past 4 years and you’re on kid 3, I’m at a loss. Put on your big girl panties.
If the thought of being alone with them terrifies you, I have 4 words for you ‘go back to work’. Guess what? The thought of being alone with mine 24 hours a day for the next 18 years terrified the hell out of me too so I got my ass out of the damn house. I didn’t just rock back and forth in the corner praying I could keep everyone alive until my husband got home from work. Being a mom is fucking hard. Really really fucking hard. No one is claiming it isnt. Its more work than actual work is. I know. I’ve done both. You have options though. Don’t bemoan the situation you’re in when you have the ability to change it at anytime. Same goes for complaining that you feel fat. The one exception to these rules is complaining about being tired. Kids or not, life wears you out and you can complain til the cows come home about being tired and I wont fault you for it. Check-in using foursquare on facebook to 2 dozen restaurants and then complain that you can’t wear skinny jeans and I’m going to unfriend you. If I have time for the treadmill, so do 90% of the people I know. Otherwise, quit complaining and own who you are. No law that says you HAVE to be thin. I’m not. I’d rather eat the things that make me happy and work out just enough to get by. If its something you want, then go for it. Just PLEASE don’t complain about how you look.

I committed my infraction today when I complained about the mess in the playroom.
I should be slapped for this. Let me break this down.
My 2 and 4 year old have their own TOY ROOM in our house. This is outside of their bedroom. The playroom is as big as my living room. Its sole purpose is to hold all their shit. Seriously. The nightmare my life is.

I took some inventory when I was cleaning it up tonight. We have 7 toy lightsabers. 7. I have TWO children. We have 6 baby dolls. I have ONE child who plays with baby dolls. We have an obscene amount of toys. This doesn’t even include the unholy littlest pet shop collection that resides DOWNSTAIRS. We’re up to our ears in princess outfits, books, play food, blocks, barbies, disney figurines, little people, play-doh and god knows what else.

Hell help them the day they’re old enough to complain that they’re bored and have nothing to do.

I did it again when I cleaned up the dvds downstairs. Yes my life is sure terrible that we own so many movies on dvd that have to be put away. Even worse that I have the free time on a weekend to be able to sit and watch them with my kids. I could have said ‘goddamn I’m lucky that I don’t have to work 3 jobs to feed my family and its so awesome that we have so much personal entertainment to pick from and two full days together to enjoy it’. Nope. I go with ‘I swear to fucking GOD if this Backyardigans dvd winds up stuffed in the couch cushions one more time, so help me I’m going to....WHO THE HELL PULLED OUT 10 DORA DVDS AND LEFT THEM ON THE FLOOR????’

I hate myself sometimes.

I’m just as bad about sitting in traffic. I have a pretty nice car. Its comfortable. It works. The a/c and heat never fail to function. My commute is really scenic. I pass like 3 starbucks on my way to work. Is it really a day-ruiner to be stuck on 2222 for an extra 25 minutes getting to listen to NPR in my comfortable car? No. I could pull over at almost any time for a coffee and a kolache. I’m not worried about being collateral damage in some gang war. Or car-jacked. I live and work in a safe place. I never really think about how awesome that is.

There wasn’t anything in particular that brought out this personal revelation today. Just had a moment of clarity that I should fucking know better than to take anything for granted and be happy for EVERYTHING I have. Two healthy perfect kids. A boyfriend who happily helps out and never makes me feel bad for taking 20 minutes to myself. Friends who make me laugh and are there for me when I need ANYTHING even if its just a bag of chocolate chips or a professional eyebrow fixing. An awesome job that not only pays the bills but keeps me challenged, entertained and not feeling like I had to sell my conscience to do it.

Just remember no matter how hard you think you have it, there’s more people that have it harder than you than better than you. Also, I know all 170 of you on facebook and most of you who read this and we’re all pretty damn fortunate.

How not to make other people want to kill you in public

2011-01-05T16:09:00.000-08:00

Apparently some ladies needs to be reminded of how not to behave like a horrible excuse for a human being when out in public.

I’ll take the responsibility on myself to remind you.

Here are some things you do NOT do when you’re at say a Target on 2222 and 620 in northwest Austin.

1. You do NOT send your teenage daughter back to get the “right” kind of toothpaste while the cashier is already ringing up the 4 things you are purchasing. Your kid will NOT be back before the cashier is done and therefore you WILL be holding up the 3 people waiting in line behind you. You telling your fellow shoppers “I can see her coming” does not resolve the situation. Especially if your child is not sprinting to the cash register (which she should be) and is instead walking at the kind of slow pace reserved for apathetic teenagers and the disabled elderly.

2. You do NOT leave your 6 year old son in the cart while YOU go back to get a package of socks right as the cashier starts ringing up the 5 things you’re getting. You just DON’T DO THIS. I’ve realized I’ve forgotten something too when I’m already in line. You either abandon the line WITH your cart (so long as you haven’t unloaded your crap yet) or else you complete purchase A, then go back to get what you forgot and start the process over. You are not more important than the people in line behind you. You are not more important than the cashier who is left to wait on you and deal with the glares and ‘what the fuck??’ faces the other customers are throwing at her. Everyone else hates you and wishes you were dead. The only person who doesn’t is the little boy you abandoned by himself who would rather not be left alone in a line of pissed off strangers.

3. You do not shop at Target (or go eat lunch at a restaurant) while wearing the outfit you just played tennis in. I will forgive any other sort of exercise attire (within reason). The tennis skirt and visor make me want to kick you in the face.

4. You do not take a rude tone with a cashier who hasn’t opened her mouth to you and is in no way at fault for bitch #1 and bitch #2. You are not better than her because she works in retail and you do nothing but take up space. I’m not saying people who work in retail are never deserving of getting a gigantic green kate spade bag swung at their head at home depot. Because sometimes they are. The poor girl stuck in the shitty situation at Target was not. Her day was already ruined by bitch 1 and bitch 2. You just made it worse.

Fuck you, CVS

2010-11-30T11:05:00.000-08:00

OMG, seriously, FUCK you guys at CVS on Far West in Austin,TX.

I had a dr appt today at 11 for what I was sure was a sinus infection. It was. My doctor faxed over a prescription to the pharmacy of my choice. I only picked this CVS b/c it was the only one that's technically in between the doctors office and MY office, both of which are far away from my house. Scrip was faxed over around 11:30. I head out, grab lunch and go over to the pharmacy which is a mad house. I was literally the 7th person in line to pick up a prescription. 4 of the people in front of me had problems of one variety of another picking up their meds. I figured I wouldn't get off easy either, but the line to drop off was just as long and there was no one else to ask if everything was kosher BEFORE waiting in a horrendous line so I just stayed put. For 25 minutes. I finally get up there, around 12:20 give my name and the chick comes back and says she can't find me. She asks if I've been there before and I said that I haven't been to that CVS but that I go to the one on Parmer and Avery all the time. Here is the rest of our conversation. I'll call her "Moron" and I'll just be "Kathie"

Moron (holding a pen and a piece of paper): I'll have to look you up by something other than your name. Whats your date of birth?

Kathie: February 1st 1979

I watch her write 1-1-79.

Kathie: Um. I said February.

Moron looks at me.

Kathie: February is the 2nd month of the year.

Moron crosses out the 1 and writes a 2 and walks away as I stand there in disbelief hoping she's not the same pharmacy tech who filled my prescription with what is likely anything other than the augmentin my doctor called in.

Moron comes back

Moron: ok I found you in the system but we don't have your prescription

Kathie: are you serious? They faxed it an HOUR ago. I watched him do it.

Moron: we don't have it, you'll have to call them.

I walk away pissed and dial up the doctor. I wait on hold for 5 minutes, get the nurse, explain the situation. The nurse puts me on hold, comes back and says 'I show it SUCCESSFULLY faxed right here. I'll call them though"

I wait 5 more minutes and get back in the pick up line. This time I'm 3rd.

Lucky me I get the moron again.

Kathie: Hi again. I just called my doctors office and they said they successfully faxed it an hour ago but that they were calling you guys right now. Did you get it?

Moron walks off and checks. Comes back.

Moron: yes we got it. its going to be a few minutes though if you want to wait.

Kathie: how long?

Moron: 10-15.

Kathie: I'll wait.

I start to walk away when the pharmacist yells out 'ma'am!'

I look over

pharmacist: its going to be over an hour.

Kathie: WHAT??

pharmacist: we have over 4o prescriptions to fill ahead of yours.

Kathie: My doctor faxed it over an HOUR ago. Its not MY fault either your fax machine is a piece of crap or you guys lose faxes that come over. Why should I be at the end of the list?

pharmacist: sorry, its going to be an hour.

Kathie: fuck you, ill be back in an hour.

I fucking hate you, CVS.

Happy Thanksgiving

2010-11-24T16:27:00.000-08:00

My beautiful friend Susan has been posting daily ‘what I’m thankful for’ notes all month. When I say beautiful I mean really really beautiful. Not only is she so warm and wonderful and caring to take the time to be thankful for what she has, but she has hair that belongs in a pantene commercial. I took a cue from her, and did the same list. Take 5 minutes tomorrow in between helpings of turkey and football and think about how lucky you are. If nothing else you've read this which means you're lucky enough to have an internet connection which means you're not sitting in some third world hut somewhere.

Here it is starting with November 1st.

Things I’m thankful for
1. The girls are still too little to know that I’m stealing their Halloween candy from last night.
2. Living in a country where I get to exercise my right to vote. And living in a city where its very easy and convenient to do so.
3. An awesome night spent with Stephen (at his house for once) packing for our very first vacation together.
4. Having a good looking, personable flying companion who doesn’t mind a 3 hour flight delay since it means more time to spend together in an airport bar.
5. Trivial Pursuit. We play it every car trip from Philly to State College. Its a guaranteed way to make 3 hours in the car fun. Albeit slightly competitive and humbling when you realize you know nothing about baseball or American history prior to world war II.
6. The 2 seconds of snow flurry I thought I saw (although it could have just been the sleet). It might be the only frozen precipitation I see this year. Seeing it in Pennsylvania makes it that much more special.
7. Having flexible, wonderful friends who don’t mind cramming in a day of tourist-laden sight seeing and dinner with people they don’t know, all in the name of making me happy. I'm thankful for Loryn, Stephen, KC, Mike, Jenn and Pete.
8. My dad for watching the girls (largely by himself) while Delaney was sick and not making me feel guilty about it when I got home.
9. Having a super easy first day back at work. It totally SUCKS when your first day back from vacation is filled with people bitching at you.
10. My boyfriend, for risking his life (and freedom) by driving 100 miles an hour up highway 183 to rescue me from my kitchen table after getting stung by a scorpion in my kitchen. Also thankful he caught the scorpion and made him pay and then iced my foot for the next 4 hours.
11. The laughter I hear from my daughters’ bedroom tonight after putting them to bed. Because its not always laughter. Its often the opposite. Usually blood curdling screaming b/c they don't want to go to bed. I prefer the laughter.
12. My developer on the project I’m working on. For actually unit testing his bug fix instead of just throwing it back over the fence claiming ‘fixed’ without actually looking at it.
13. The freezing cold day. I needed it bad. Also the opportunity to see another college football game in person. Even if they lost. Still totally worth it.
14. Going to 3 furniture stores and finding exactly what I want. Also lunch and Starbucks with the boy and a good babysitter who lets me get out of the house to feel like a grown-up from time to time instead of just a mom.
15. A boss who is understanding when I’m sick and tries to make me laugh to feel better instead of being bitchy that I’m out of the office. He's seriously the best boss ever and if he ever quits, I'm not sure what I'll do.
16. 2 well behaved, sweet children. I swear they have a sixth sense about me not feeling well and choose the best times to not be satan spawn.
17. Having friends so dear that you can go months and months without seeing them, and all it takes is one lunch date to reconnect and feel like you were never apart.
18. Marco’s Pizza (for the girls, I think its heinous), Hanna Andersson and Uggs.
19. A boy who can fix the most horrible of days with a single hug, but knows he shouldn’t stop at just the one.
20. Having a super cool photographer who knows the importance of your very first ‘family’ photo and makes everyone super comfortable and at ease. Also for her sending 2 preview pictures the very same day.
21. The fake ‘snow’ (bubbles) falling from the Christmas Tree at A Christmas Affair for helping me imagine that it wasn’t 82 degrees outside. Also the ‘Happy Birthday Jesus’ ornament I found for Stephen.
22. Rudy’s bbq
23. Michelle and Rachel. The two friends that can make me happy all day just by spending 2 hours with them.
24. The lack of traffic between Austin and Rockport and my Dad’s shrimp scampi. Which is technically Mrs. Nedwick’s scampi.
25. The fact that I’m spending Thanksgiving in my parent’s house and not a room in the ICU at University hospital in San Antonio. Thankful that I’m not having to wonder whether we’ll get around to putting the tree up or go Christmas shopping at all between nursing a 2 month old and visiting someone in the hospital. Thankful that my pants have elastic. Thankful that I have someone waiting for me at home.

Why I hate cancer

2010-10-12T18:13:00.000-07:00

Everyone hates cancer. Most people’s reasons are fairly similar. But each is also 100% personal. Here is mine:
Hundreds of thousands of people have cancer. Its fucking crazy. Everyone knows someone. EVERYONE. You either have a family member, close friend or have it yourself. It just boggles the mind. That doesn't soften the blow when you get your news though. I always wonder what people were doing/thinking when they found out their lives would never be the same. When your best friend showed up at your door on a Sunday morning with Starbucks and bagels and said that you needed to have a talk. When your Mom called you at work and told you that your Dad would be starting chemo the next morning.
Or in my case, when my husband’s doctor called and told me he had a couple weeks to live.
I was in my 10 week old daughter's room. Being 10 weeks old, she still needed to eat every 2-3 hours, and she nursed forEVER so a good 2/3s of my day was spent breastfeeding. Not the worst way to spend your day, but its not conducive to getting shit done. This is why all Moms learn to multitask. I remember when my friend Michelle told me I would be horrified if I knew what she could do while holding a baby. I thought that was hilarious before I had kids...I quickly learned its essential for survival (albeit still damned hilarious)
In this case I knew it would be the only time I had a good shot of holding a phone conversation without her crying. I was trying to get a hold of Steve's new oncologist since he had just checked into the hospital and we were switching his care over from the last cancer place to the new cancer place. All of this was all still pretty new and changing constantly and we didn't really have a grasp on what was going on. There was also such an immediate need to treat whatever medical emergency he had at that moment, that the cancer was almost secondary. In this case it was when he had to be rushed to the hospital at 6pm on a Friday night with an insane staph infection that we were seriously worried would make him septic. I already knew he wouldn't be starting his immunotherapy anytime soon since he had the infection. I was just in desperate need of information. Here is what I remember:
It was a Tuesday. He was still in ICU, which was where he’d been since Friday night at midnight after a couple hours in the ER. They had done x-rays and a few scans and blood work and all that stuff they do when you’re in the hospital. He was still sort of in and out of it but wasn’t as bad off as he was on Friday. I needed to talk to a doctor badly. Unfortunately, the oncologists at Round Rock hospital did their rounds at 5 in the morning so I was never there at the same time the doctor came in. This left me with calling the doctor ten times begging him to call me back to tell me what the fuck was going on.
When Steve first got sick in November and was in San Antonio, all we really knew was that the tumor grew back and the surgeon could actually see it in the muscles of his abdomen when he was removing the tumor. We knew that hadn't been the case in April so we knew it was getting more aggressive. We still didn't know much about it though. Since not a single hack doctor used the word 'terminal' we were more concerned about the damage the tumor itself was causing, not that it was quickly infecting every organ in his body.
Austin doctors are different.
They cut to the chase and I guess assume all doctors are as forthcoming as they are. In our case, the facts they already had were that they were treating a 31 year old man who was clearly dying of cancer.
They assumed we knew what they knew.
When I got the new doctor on the phone, I actually liked him right away. I don't know why. He sounded 'normal'. He didn't sound out of reach. He had empathy in his voice. Immediately with his 'hello', I knew this guy cared. The first thing he asked was for me to tell him what I understood. I repeated the facts from the doctors we’d seen so far who had laid out our choices of chemo,immunotherapy and clinical trials. The latter of which had gotten ruled out b/c he was too sick.
The doctor said that was all true and then said something I will never forget.
"You actually have 4 options. Your 4th option is to do nothing. I think we're all in agreement that this is going to kill him. Its just a matter of when and how you feel about quality vs quantity of life and we’re talking about a matter of weeks here."
I literally quit breathing. I was holding a 12 lb baby in my lap. A baby who until that very second I had taken for granted that she would know her father and that he would be there for every smile, laugh, step and inch she grew. You know, until she’s 16 and hates our guts. I looked down at Alby and my world just stopped.

I panicked. I was afraid if I lost it on the phone that he would realize I had no idea how sick my husband was. That he might actually stop talking and I’d be left sitting on the floor of my baby’s room by myself not knowing what to do next.

I managed to squeak out an ‘mmhmm’ and prayed he continued.
“Kathie, how old are you?”
“29”
“Do you guys have any kids?”
“2. A 2 year old and a 2 month old”
“You’re breaking my heart”
“I’ll bet”
“I’ll walk down whatever road you guys choose with you. I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I just wanted to make sure you knew that you didn’t HAVE to do anything.”

I told him Steve’s quality of life was absolutely in the toilet and that he had too much to live for to do NOTHING. So we decided to do SOMETHING.

I’ll never forget that conversation as long as I live.

Steve started chemo December 23rd. Two days before Christmas. He died 15 days later.

In a week and a half I’ll be running in my 2nd Livestrong challenge. Last year I ran for Steve, KC, Marsha and Papa Rising. Sadly this year I’ve had to add more people to my ‘run for’ list. Not everyone is still here. That truly sucks.
I’m running for my friend John.
I’m running for my friend Josh’s Mom, Carmen.
I'm running for my friend Michelle's friend Karen.
I’m running because I fucking hate cancer and its the one thing that seems to make me feel better.
I’m running because regardless of your feelings of the level of douchebaggery of Lance Armstrong, he’s done more for making it ok to care about cancer than anyone else.
I’m running because I know next year, I’ll have more people on my list.
I’m running because I never know when one of those names might be mine and I won’t be able to run anymore.

In spite of everything I’ve been through, I know how very, very lucky I am. I have 2 healthy kids. I have an army of amazing friends who are always there for me even if it means getting up at 6am on a Saturday to run 3 miles with me wearing a ‘Team F#@K Cancer’ t-shirt.

If you happen to be in Austin on October 23rd and have a pair of running shoes, I’d love to have you on our team. Go to www.livestrong.org and follow the instructions to join a team. F#@K Cancer is listed in the drop down along with all the teams who managed to not have profanity in their name.

Whatever. We’re talking about cancer here. I think that deserves a good Fuck Off.

Run hard.

KQ

For anyone who thinks its ok to open their mouth when their opinion wasn't solicited...

2010-09-12T17:21:00.000-07:00

I really really really can’t stand people who feel its their place to offer up their opinion on how your raise your kids. These people are everywhere. Just go to people.com and click on the ‘comments’ section of any story featuring a celebrity’s child and there are over 1000 comments on how its too cold for Tom Cruise’s kid to be outside without a coat on, or that someone else’s child is too old to be in a stroller/sucking a pacifier/drinking from a sippy cup, etc. Some people just automatically assume that other peoples’ children are THEIR business. I hate these people.
Before anyone gets all huffy, let me add another disclaimer....
This does not apply to the following:
Grabbing a child who is not yours who is about to run into the path of an oncoming car in a busy parking lot.
Offering up a bag of goldfish crackers, juice box, kleenex or sunscreen to another mom at the park.
Asking another mom to kindly keep their satan spawn from pushing your 2 year old head first down the slide.
It DOES apply to pushy bitches at the grocery store who feel the need to comment on the nutritional inadequacies of what’s in your cart. Its rude, its obnoxious, its none of your damn business, and its an excellent way to get punched in the face by a total stranger.
I obviously need a new grocery store. This is not the first time I’ve had to stop myself from committing a homicide in the check out line. I think its been awhile though, so maybe I was due.
Preface...
My girls were at home with their baby-sitter. Every couple of weeks I hire our sweet, precious babysitter whom the girls adore to hang out for a few hours on a weekend afternoon so I can run errands by myself. On today’s agenda was a trip to the mall for denim overalls for Alby, colder weather clothes for Delaney and myself, and the awesome trip to the grocery store. I love going grocery shopping by myself. After suffering through trips with with 2 annoyed toddlers, going by yourself is a mini-vacation. Especially if you put your ipod on and crank that bitch up so you can’t hear anything else. Its downright enjoyable.
Now I’m not exactly a nutrition nazi. This isn’t a secret. I’m totally ok with this. My kids are healthy and perfectly normal sized. Obviously they get what they need in spite of my (apparently) horrible parenting. I’m not sure that the fact the girls weren’t with me was a factor in nosey noser-bitch’s commentary. For all she knew my kids were either malnourished or morbidly obese. Regardless...
The item in my cart that sparked the contempt in this total stranger was a box (or several boxes) of Gerber Graduates Lil’ Entrees. For those of you not in the know, think toddler sized tv dinner. They aren’t frozen though (so awesome). From Gerber’s website:
“GRADUATES LIL’ ENTRÉES Dishes are nutritious mealtime combinations in one convenient ready-to-serve tray for toddlers. They are as delicious as they are nutritious, carefully cooked for just the right taste and texture. Each LIL' ENTRÉE contains a full serving of veggies*. Plus, there are no added preservatives or artificial flavors. Each entree provides protein and 3 or more vitamins and minerals.”
Dear bitch at the grocery store. Read it and weep. Oh also, yesterday Alby ate goldfish crackers and a fruit roll up for dinner. Lets not get too judgmental on the Gerber pasta wheels and peas and carrots.
I had about 4 boxes of those Gerber things in my cart. Along with a handful of ‘kid cuisine’ frozen dinners for Delaney, a crap ton of lean cuisine frozen dinners for myself and a various assortment of other random crap we eat throughout the week. (bananas, bread, cheese sticks, organic milk, presliced apple pouches, diet coke, beer, etc) I’m putting all my shit on the little conveyer belt thing in my usual order: super heavy stuff, cold stuff, boxed stuff, lightweight stuff. This put the poison baby food at the end, which is right where Queen Bitch of the Universe was waiting for her turn. She points to the Gerber stuff and says snottily “you know, that stuff is really just chemical junk and its not healthy for children at all. You really shouldn’t let them eat it. Plus you can make your own for so much cheaper”
You. Bitch.
Unless you witness my 2 year old sucking on a can of Raid, keep your motherfucking opinion to yourself. I didn’t even know what to say to her (rare for me). The following things ran through my mind:
“Actually, those are for me. The Guinness and condoms are for the baby.”
“Did your ill-fitting mom jeans come with that phD in childhood nutrition?”
Instead what I said was “I heard nestle chocolate chips (the first thing I saw of hers) contain arsenic.” Her reply was a confused “excuse me?” to which I replied “there’s no excuse for you” and swiped my credit card and got the hell away from her. I’m not exactly known for my tact and pleasant behavior when someone pisses me off. I rarely take the high road and feign gratitude towards someone who deserves a kick to the face.
I’d love to say I felt awesome and clever and smart in the face of a smug busybody but instead I actually started to feel guilty about what I was feeding my kids. I couldn’t believe I let that bitch get to me! The whole way home I’m second guessing my meal choices. Frankly, what’s in that Gerber box is the healthiest meal Alby gets. She eats random things at random times and I fill in the gaps with vitamins and pediasure. She’s NEVER sick and almost as tall as her 4 year old sister. I have no complaints about her physical development. But when someone makes you feel shitty about your choices in toddler food, you start to wonder if any development delays may be due to the fact that your kid eats regular bananas and not organic ones or cow’s milk instead of soy. I made a mental list of what Alby ate today: a bag of donut holes from Shipley’s, a banana, a turkey hot dog, a cheese stick, a thing of yogurt, a bowl of peas, a handful of animal crackers and probably 3 cups of milk. This was before 3pm when I got home. She ate fish sticks and more peas for dinner. I don’t think that’s half bad.
Tomorrow she’s getting the damn Gerber lil’ entree and that bitch at the supermarket can eat me.

Happy Birthday

2010-08-22T19:36:00.000-07:00

Dear Delaney,
You turn 4 years old tomorrow. I absolutely cannot believe it. Not because time goes by so fast or that it seems like just yesterday you were an infant. On the contrary. I look at you and see the wise-beyond-her-years, smartassed little ball of rebellion I once was. I may not recognize a single shred of myself when I look at your perfect face; your huge blue eyes, long brown eyelashes and adorable dimples. Your perfect, naturally highlighted hair that is so wasted on a child who doesn’t appreciate it nor cares to keep it clean and free of ranch dressing. Your ridiculously long legs that make you look like a baby deer when you sit on the couch, unsure of where to put them. Its not until you roll your eyes at me or stand your ground while putting one hand sassily on your hip while you just DARE me to follow through on an empty threat to turn off the Simpsons that I’m faced with all the evidence I need to remind me that you’re mine.

Before you were even born, I knew exactly who you were going to be. I wasn’t raising no pansy-ass girlie girl. I was going to have a girl who could stand with the big boys, unafraid of getting dirty or hurt. My girl was going to hate pink and princesses. She wouldn’t be afraid to stand up for herself or others when she saw injustice. She would believe in fairness and equality and instant replays. Content to sit on the couch and watch football and horror movies. Fiercely independent with a filthy mouth. Your dad and I thought for SURE ‘fuck’ was going to be your first word. We were also fairly certain you would say it at Grandma’s house or the check out line at the grocery store.

Some things you just KNOW. I knew when I would put The Ramones on full blast through a pair of headphones on my belly and watched with delight as you kicked the underside of my desk at work that you were going to be a little badass. There would be no Hannah Montana for my girl. My girl would be punk rock, not Disney. My girl would be a super-hero fangirl, not a boy-band girl.

I was half right.

Your 2 favorite songs are ‘I Wanna be Sedated’ and ‘Party in the USA’. Your 2 favorite things to watch on tv are Star Wars and Dora the Explorer. You made it to the grand old age of 4 before allowing a Barbie in the house. You love princess shoes and super-hero capes. You carry a pink bunny blankie and a light saber. Your favorite movie character of all time is Darth Vader. You hate all Disney princess movies. Even the decent ones. You beg me to read Pinkalicious, The Lorax and Where the Wild Things Are. When I ask you what you want to be when you grow up, you’ve told me both ‘a princess’ and ‘a jedi’. You chose the Spiderman underwear over the Tinkerbell ones at Target. Your first word was ‘Elmo’. Your second was the goddamn dog’s name. I had to wait until the third to get a ‘mama’.

I hope I’ve taught you well. Contrary to what others may believe, it is my mission in life to raise you and your sister right. Other people may not agree with my methodology but frankly I don’t give a shit. I know deep down that I’m doing right by you. Its all part of my master plan to raise good people who are kind to others.

You care about what happens to the trees, loose dogs and the bugs in our driveway. You question EVERYTHING (repeatedly). You want to give everyone a hug. You know that you don’t throw rocks or spit at people. You know Sundays were made for donuts and tv. You know that you always root for the rebellion no matter how cool the empire is. And I know they are very, very fucking cool.

I love you, my perfect girl. Yes you may have leftover birthday cake for breakfast. Just don’t go around telling everyone. Remember our little talk about not selling mommy out by repeating things that she says?

Happy Birthday, Delaney Jane.

xoxoxo
Mom

Sorry to bring down your Friday but a life lesson is a life lesson

2010-07-30T06:31:00.000-07:00

I know this is a little heavy for a Friday, but its been on my mind since I read it last night. Don't do anything stupid like read it at work. You'll be a mess. I sent it to my friend Zach read it last night and he then drank at least 2 glasses of scotch.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/aaron-e-carroll/its-the-life-in-end-of-li_b_664152.html

For obvious reasons, this stuck with me all evening. I remember having that conversation with Steve when I was pregnant with Alby. The 'what would we do if she was really really sick when she was born' conversation. Its not a fun conversation to have but its something that is always in the back of your mind when you're having a baby. So we talked about it. I remember both of us being in agreement that we would take our daughter out of the hospital and try to fit as much life into the few short hours we may have. Its gut-wrenching to think about. My heart breaks for the parents who were lied to. Let this be a lesson for doctors everywhere. False hope does not breed an actual positive outcome. Those parents were robbed of the only day they would have had with their baby because they were told he'd be fine.
I can't help but think that if when Steve got sick, had the doctors been honest with us, whether we would have spent Steve's last months differently. I know its not how I would have spent mine.
Even though they were only his parents for a few short hours, The Mom and Dad who had the strength to take that baby outside and DO something in the short time they had are my heroes. The easy thing would have been to sit in shock on the floor of the NICU and wait. They did the hard thing. Which turned out to be the fucking awesome thing and you KNOW they have zero regrets about letting the dog lick his face and having him taste ice cream.
It also made me realize that my girls have never had chocolate ice cream. What the hell is wrong with me??? I of all people should know the importance of not putting things off. How has that not happened? In the name of not wanting stained t-shirts or car seats, I've always handed over vanilla. That will change this weekend. Those girls need chocolate ice cream and cherry kool-aid. If you see me walking around town with a 2 and 4 year old wearing clothes that look like they're fresh off the set as extras on a crime scene drama, don't judge me. We did something important. I hope you do the same.

I am so lucky to know such smart, funny, awesome people

2010-07-23T13:13:00.000-07:00

Since I often get accused of not telling both sides of a story, I wanted to post this since I finally had the opportunity to do so. :)

I got the email below from my friend Michelle. Even though I'm a dirty, hippie, liberal, I actually really liked it and passed it on to some friends. My boss, Kevin drafted the most awesome, original response I've ever seen. Due to my love for
both of them, I'm posting both below. Enjoy.
**********************************************************************************
Original email: Subject: little girl

I recently asked my friends' little girl what she wanted to be when
she grows up. She said she wanted to be President some day. Both of her
parents, liberal Democrats, were standing there, so I asked her,
"If you were President what would be the first thing you would do?" She
replied, "I'd give food and houses to all the homeless people."
Her parents beamed with pride.
"Wow...what a worthy goal," I told her, "but you don't have to wait
until you're President to do that. You can come over to my house and mow
the lawn, pull weeds, and sweep my yard, and I'll pay you $50.
Then I'll take you over to the grocery store where the homeless guy hangs
out, and you can give him the $50 to use toward food and a new house." She
thought that over for a few seconds, then she looked me straight
in the eye and asked, "Why doesn't the homeless guy come over and do the
work, and you can just pay him the $50?" I said, "Welcome to the Republican Party."
Her parents still aren't speaking to me.
*********************************************************************************
Kevin's response:

I recently asked my friends' little girl what she wanted to be when
she grows up. She said she wanted to be President some day.
Both of her parents, conservative Republicans, were standing
there, so I asked her, "If you were President what would be the first
thing you would do?" She replied, "I'd get rid of big government and
leave everything to private individuals because government can’t do
anything right. "

Her parents beamed with pride.

"Wow...what a worthy goal," I told her, "but you don't have to wait
until you're President to do that. Right now, you can stop going to
public school, or planning on going to a state university, driving on
public roads, using the internet, gps navigation, sending or receiving
mail, buying federally subsidized gasoline, or getting vaccinations.
You can feel safe without the army, navy, air force, marines, coast
guard, national guard, CDC, CIA, FBI, FCC, FDA, DEA, local police,
or local fire department there to protect you. You can fly on planes
not guarded by the TSA or made safe by the FAA. You can resolve your
disputes yourself and not worry about the pesky court system.
Criminals don’t have to go to expensive prisons – you can just take
things into your own hands. You can start collecting and carrying
around whatever dangerous weapons you want. We can demolish all the
damns that supply water and flood protection to the entire American
west. We can fire all the park rangers and start chopping up
Yosemite for firewood. Your banks can get more creative with your
money because no one will be policing them. You can figure out your
own air and water supply since everyone will be free to pollute it as
much as they want. You can start saving so your parents can get by
in their golden years without social security. As long as you and
your family have nothing wrong with you, you can convince a private
insurance company to cover your medical needs. As society devolves
into every man for himself, you can happily sit on your front porch
with your guns and protect your property from everyone else.”

She thought that over for a few seconds, then she looked me straight in the eye and asked, "Why don’t we stop being ridiculously dogmatic and simply focus on solving our problems in the most pragmatic way… whether it involves government OR private enterprise?” I said, "Welcome to the Democratic Party."
Her parents still aren't speaking to me.

Happy Father's Day

2010-06-23T05:23:00.000-07:00

Saw this headline on USA Today this morning:
Christian group slams Obama salute to gay dads

Ok, first thing. Organizations spouting bigotry need to quit being labeled as ‘Christian’. This also goes for the KKK and those people with the ‘God hates fags’ signs who show up at soldiers’ funerals. There is nothing christian about what you mother-fucking assholes are preaching. So cut that shit out. Secondly, groups whose sole purpose is to throw a hissy fit every time someone gay gets treated like a human being need to stop having the word ‘family’ in their name. In this case, the American Family Association. You’re not fooling anyone. Hatred is not a family value.
The group in the article had issue with the following statement made by Obama in reference to Father’s Day:
"Nurturing families come in many forms, and children may be raised by a father and mother, a single father, two fathers, a step father, a grandfather, or caring guardian."

Their response was this statement:

"This is the first time in our nation's history that a president has used Father's Day as an excuse to promote the radical homosexual agenda and completely redefine the word 'family.'"

I don’t even know where to start.

Saying that a family with two fathers can be nurturing is not pushing a ‘radical homosexual agenda’. That said, I’m not even sure what WOULD be classified as pushing a radical homosexual agenda. I tried to think of an example and couldn’t come up with one. I just know the things that aren’t. Allowing a lesbian’s partner to be at her side when she’s dying of cancer in a hospital bed is another one that comes to mind. I’m sure ‘American Family Association’ would disagree with me though. Any group that has such a narrow minded definition of ‘family’ can go to hell. I hear it from people all the time. How a family is defined as a mother and a father. Well guess what assholes, that’s not always in the cards. My daughter is almost 4 years old and she is ALL about figuring out who is in our family. She has probably the broadest (and most awesome) definition of ours. She’ll sit in her carseat on our way to school and name off everyone who is in our family.
“Mommy, Alby is my family. Uncle Chris is my family. Michelle is my family. Grandma and Papa are my family. Uncle Brian and Uncle Michael and Uncle Jeff are my family. Ainsley is my family. Miss Jessica is my family. Miss Brandy is my family. Maggie is my family (my mom’s dog). You’re in my family too!”
God, I f’n love her. Everyone should take a cue from a FOUR year old and have such a broad definition of a family. It should include the people who love you and take care of you and make you happy. If your dad was a drunk who abandoned you and your mom when you were a kid, feel free to NOT include him as your family. Biology isn’t how family should be defined. Your best friend’s mom who helped teach you to ride a bike and drive a car and pick you up from the bar that night you got drunk when you were 20 and didn’t want to drive home or have your mom find out what you did.....she IS your family.
So Happy Father’s day to all the good dads out there. The ones who hoist toddlers up on their shoulders and walk around the zoo all afternoon. The ones who look for monsters under the bed with the flashlight. The ones who coach their kid’s t-ball team. The ones who pull the wagon going trick or treating holding 2 little girls who don’t have a dad of their own. Happy Father’s day to the moms who’s husbands are pieces of shit and have to do the dad job too. Happy Father’s day to the 2 dads raising a family. Happy Father’s day to the Grandpa who takes care of his grandkids during the day so his own kids don’t have to spend $2,000 on daycare a month. Happy Father’s day to the single mom. Happy Father’s day to MY dad for doing the job of 2 dads.

The rough and dirty business of being a Mom

2010-05-03T19:52:00.000-07:00

When you’re pregnant, its always in the back of your mind; ‘what if there is something wrong with my baby?’. You try not to let the fear overtake you. You make every effort to behave rationally. You try to resign yourself to the fact that (for the most part) how your baby is born is largely out of your hands. You try and do the right things and not do anything stupid. You give up sushi and feta. You give up wine and hot dogs. You stay out of bars and dark alleys. You hope that all these ‘micro-sacrifices’ will all add up like infinitesimal credits insuring a happy healthy baby with 10 fingers and 10 toes, 2 arms, 2 legs and a head. You go to your first ultrasound holding your breath and literally sigh with exhaustive relief when the doctor doesn’t see anything horribly wrong. The relief lasts for about 45 minutes and then wears off and is replaced by worries of unseen dangers lurking beyond the scope of what an ultrasound wand being pressed against your belly can tell you.
This doesn’t mean that you don’t enjoy your pregnancy or have faith that everything will turn out fine. Its just part of being a mother. You never 100% relax against the onslaught of terrors waiting around every corner. Fears of what could be going wrong in utero are replaced by the (much worse) fears of childhood illnesses, kidnappers and poorly manufactured Chinese toys containing unholy amounts of lead and arsenic. Yet somehow, your new perfect baby skates through their semi-monthly doctor’s appointments without a hitch. Save for the occasional ear infection or stuffy nose, things aren’t going too terribly. Height and weight are plotted in a psychologically satisfying, steadily growing line. No surprises. No ‘specialists’. No crazy, dangerous food allergies. Your baby makes it to their first birthday. Only one trip to the emergency room in the past 12 months. 2 diaper rashes. 1 bump on the head. 1 fever. All in all, the first year is declared a success. You breathe. You relax for one millisecond.

Then you find out that there is something wrong with your seemingly perfect child.

This is payback for your complacency. For sleeping at night instead of spending your evening hours hovering over your child making sure they are still breathing. How could you be so naive? How could you have used costco brand formula instead of something with the word ‘earth’ or ‘organic’ in it? How could you use HUGGIES diapers instead of the all natural unbleached holiness of organic cloth? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO YOUR CHILD? This is all your fault! Maybe you shouldn’t have had that glass of red wine on your birthday 2 weeks before you found out you were pregnant. Maybe you shouldn’t have watched Law and Order for 4 weeks straight when you were on modified bed rest. You know that new car smell you enjoyed so much in your new Sienna...that’s right, dumbass. TOXIC. Good job, Mom. All those times you put your baby in her carrier with her nose 6 inches from the backseat of the car, she was inhaling god knows what, all because you wanted a new car.

For the past month, these are the accusations I’ve been hurling at myself. How could I commit this atrocity against my own child.

Ever since the pediatrician raised the red flag that there was something wrong with Alby.

I’m a reasonably intelligent person. Deep down I know that regardless of what is wrong with either of my children, it is not the fault of Proctor and Gamble or Enfamil or Sterling Vinyards (unless you were a big ol’ wino when you were pregnant, in which case, shame on you). Its not Toyota’s fault or TBS’s fault.

Its not my fault.

But due to the nature of motherhood, there is some ancient part of our brains that is hardwired for beating yourself up when anything happens to your child. Anything from a bad grade on a spelling test to a skinned knee to a genetic disorder can be squarely blamed on our inadequacies as parents. Most parents place the blame solely on themselves for everything. 80% of the time, these things are not a result of your incompetent parenting. I say 80% because we all know there are some spectacularly crappy parents out there who do dangerous and stupid things without giving a second thought to the welfare of their offspring. Thankfully, I don’t personally know any of those people, but we all know they’re out there. Babies and children were designed to survive their parents. The human race wouldn’t have lasted this long if they weren’t. I should know. I whacked Delaney’s head into the doorjam more than once when I was carrying her, protesting to bed.
After living through what started as a seemingly innocuous diagnosis of a slipped disc in a back and ended with saying goodbye to my 32 year old husband, I live in fear of concerned looks from doctors. Since Steve’s cancer was so rare, It honestly does keep me awake at night wondering if I’ve passed some sort of ticking time bomb down to my children.
I still didn’t see this coming though.
Alby is 19 months old. Up until 3 weeks ago, she never said a word. This in itself didn’t concern me since I have a 3 year old who talks from the second she wakes up until AFTER I close her door at night. I never found Alby’s silence to be a problem. Her pediatrician thought otherwise. At her 15 month appointment she raised concerns about Alby’s lack of communication skills. She lectured me on the importance of early intervention and really working with her to make it harder for her to get her way without talking. I’m ashamed to say that I sort of shrugged it off. Alby laughed and made eye contact. She didn’t display any weird or repetitive behavior. I never thought there could be something WRONG with her. All I knew was that I still thought of her as much more of a baby than I did with Delaney when she was the same age. I figured it was a 2nd child thing though and not necessarily that Alby was developing differently than her big sister.
Fast forward 3 more months and Alby is still not saying a thing. She doesn’t sign. She doesn’t wave. She doesn’t point to pictures in books. She doesn’t follow simple commands. Suddenly its much more than a lack of a decent vocabulary. There’s something up with my kid. Now I listen earnestly to the doctor as she talks about autism markers and developmental delays. We go through a list of all the things Alby isn’t doing. Shit, by comparison, other toddlers are looking like tiny little rocket scientists. Alby won’t even point to the picture of the dog in the book. She’s cute and sweet and doesn’t just rock in the corner hitting herself in the head, but its dawning on me that she is indeed different from other kids her age. Our doctor put us in touch with the state’s early childhood intervention program to see if Alby qualifies for therapy. We had a pre-evaluation a month ago and our formal evaluation today. They ask a million questions and observe her for 90 minutes and plot out all the results and add up the points. To qualify for the program, a child has to have a 2 month delay in any of the categories. Speech, communication, cognitive, physical, etc. Alby averaged a 6 month delay in every category. I always thought her physical skills were above average(she runs faster than her sister and crawled up the stairs at 7 months old) but the therapists were concerned about the way she sat on the floor. I never even noticed it before since I’m pretty sure I sat the same way (sort of on your knees with your feet out to the side instead of tucked underneath you) Its apparently one of the ‘markers’ for some genetic disorder.
Shit, man.
Even things that seemed so innocent were suddenly exposing a myriad of potential health issues. I just thought Alby needed help with talking. Now these people are talking about ‘developmental’ therapy and not speech therapy. They were actually impressed with how well she says the word ‘Elmo’. Sigh. Elmo. That little red bastard is everywhere. Alby can spot him a mile away (Delaney could too) It was a little less upsetting with Laney though since she could say other things. Alby just grins ear to ear laughing and saying his name over and over. She will drop whatever she’s doing and run over to the tv if she hears the first 3 notes of his stupid theme song. Girl loves her some Elmo.
All I ever wanted for my kids was for them to be happy and healthy. Its all anyone really wants. Having cancer be our elephant in the room, I am prepared to handle anything Alby decides to throw at me in the realm of developmental delays. I would like to hear a ‘mama’ instead of ‘elmo’ though. Just sayin’.
When I started the blog 18 months ago it was strictly for informational purposes. It was our mouthpiece to our community of friends and family to let them know how Steve was doing and what we needed. After he was gone, it morphed into its own monster and became my outlet for rantings on social injustice and stupid, stupid people. Since I’ve gone back to work, I’ve been too wrapped up in our new schedule to really sit down and put pen to paper (or in reality, fingers to keyboard) and rant and rave about anything. We haven’t dropped off the face of the earth. We’re doing just fine. We just have another little speed bump in our road that needs to be navigated a little more carefully.
Alby starts her therapy next week. I’m crossing my fingers that through hard work and luck, (and time) we will see some improvements in her development and I’ll be able to report on happy things like full sentences and her knowing where her nose is and the sound a cow makes.
Til then, peace out and hug your kids. Its tough business being a Mom. Go easier on yourselves, ladies. There’s more than enough blame to go around.

Another reason to stay the hell out of Mississippi

2010-04-08T19:38:00.000-07:00

Congratulations, parents and teachers of Itawamba, Mississippi. You have done a top notch job of raising our future citizens of the world. If they gave out gold medals for teaching your children to be huge douchebags, you’d win.
I’ve been loosely following the story of high schooler Constance McMillen since we first heard of how she was suing her school for discrimination after being barred from attending her prom with her girlfriend. I was interested to see how this whole story would play out. When I first heard the principal claim that the vast majority of students and townspeople were on his side and how he was standing firm on his decision, I was immediately doubtful. Surely no principal is so incredibly naive to think that any teenager would size with him instead of a fellow student. Surely there was some good old fashioned youthful outrage and revolt against their intolerant elders. When I was in school, it was always 'us' against 'them'.
Turns out I was wrong.
The faculty and staff at Itawamba Agricultural High School apparently did a good job of teaching a bunch of teenagers how to be intolerant scumbags. Last weekend, Constance McMillen was tricked into attending a ‘fake’ prom while 99% of her classmates attended the ‘real’ prom in secret. The other 1%? They were students with learning disabilities who were also tricked into going to the fake prom so as not to get in the way of of the righteous good time of Itawamba’s inbred teen-folk swilling pabst blue ribbon in the parking lot at their precious prom.
This was the statement from Miss McMillen regarding the whole debacle:

Two students with learning difficulties were among the seven people at the country club event, McMillen recalls. "They had the time of their lives," McMillen says. "That's the one good thing that come out of this, [these kids] didn't have to worry about people making fun of them [at their prom]."

Wow. This girl is only 18 years old. Growing up in nowheresville, Mississippi as a gay teenager had to be hell for her. Judging by the behavior of her classmates regarding this prom (we won’t offend her by referring to them as her ‘peers’ because they clearly are not) I’d imagine homeroom, lunch and gym class were no picnic for her either. She has more integrity in one pinky than the rest of the inhabitants of her town combined. Props to her parents for raising such an amazing young woman. It would be so easy for her to lash out and take the easy shot against her classmates (like I’m doing now). But she didn’t. She used her voice to stand up for OTHER kids who were wronged. I’m proud of her and I don’t even know her.
With all the recent stories in the news about bullying and victims of bullying committing suicide, you’d think schools would take a proactive approach towards these situations to try and prevent further tragedies. Instead, what do they do? They help a bunch of adolescents organize a SECRET prom in order to keep out the people they have classified as different from them.

Holy shit.

Now I’m not much of a gambler, but I’d be willing to bet we’re not dealing with a bunch of National Merit Scholars at this high school. These don’t strike me as the kind of kids who could pull off this sort of antisocial excuse for a prom on their own. They had help. Adult help. Adults who fucking know the difference between right and wrong, and if anything was ever WRONG, tricking kids you don’t think are ‘cool’ enough into attending a dance all by themselves while you party down and have a laugh at their expense is fucking sick. Its not hard to see where these kids learned their ‘moral high ground’ from.

A separate message to all colleges and universities out there. I would HIGHLY recommend you place any applications from students who attended Itawamba Agricultural High School in the ‘no’ pile. These aren’t the kinds of kids you want at your institutions of learning. Hell, who are we kidding. These aren’t the kinds of kids who go to college. Nevermind.

Sit back and enjoy that self-righteous, holier than thou attitude you learned from your parents and teachers, kids. I’m sure Jesus is very proud of you. Nothing makes him happier than seeing his followers spreading such an important lesson of tolerance and acceptance in his name. Oh wait. That’s not what you did. You did the other thing. The wrong, hateful, horrible, disgusting thing. The kind of thing that KEEPS people from getting into heaven, you fucking dumbass hicks. I still don’t know what’s worse. That you did it in the first place or that you’re probably PROUD of yourselves.

The principal claimed he called off their original prom after forbidding the lesbian couple to attend because the whole issue was causing a distraction to their educational environment.
Well done. Now the whole world thinks you’re a hate-mongering, intolerant cesspool of bigotry.

And they’d be right.

Yup. It rained on Easter

2010-04-04T18:50:00.000-07:00

Its been sunny and in the 80s for about 2 weeks. Then suddenly overnight, it decided to rain. It was rainy and gross all morning.
I swear it never rains in Austin. We average about 300 days of sun a year. Somehow though, it decides to rain on any day we have a fun outdoor photo-worthy occasion. The pumpkin patch last year. RAIN. Easter egg hunt in the morning before the grandparents have to head back to Rockport. RAIN. Bah. So much for cute Easter dresses. Hello yellow raincoat and wet pants.
The kids didn't care. Alby like carrying her Elmo basket but didn't really like anything in it. We labeled all the eggs with a D or an A so Delaney knew who's was who's. (Some of Delaney's had things Alby could choke on and some of Alby's had cheerios) Delaney was SUCH a good big sister and shouted 'I found an A' and would run over to Alby and say 'here you go, Alby' dropping the egg in her basket. Alby would then promptly chuck the egg on the ground and keep going. The only time she stopped was when she found the eggs that had Elmo on them and got them open to find CHEERIOS. She sat under the swings and ate a few egg's worth.

We had a great weekend doing all the fun easter stuff that have somehow become tradition over the past few years. I've decided that I really like Easter more than I thought I did. Its a holiday that sneaks up on you. There's no 3 month pre-Easter planning. No pressure. No full house decorating. All those things somehow culminate into a wonderful weekend with happy kids and happier parents snagging some of their candy. Yesterday was a big day. Delaney got to go to a pre-Easter-Easter egg hunt at a friend's birthday party. That stirred up her egg-lust for today. We made rice krispie treat eggs dipped in colored white chocolate and sprinkles (easy and freaking delicious) dyed Easter eggs and then spent an hour stuffing the plastic eggs with goodies for the girls to find in the morning. This morning, the girls dug through 2 sets of Easter baskets (one from the Easter bunny, one from the grandparents) and then ventured in the yard to find the rest of the loot. All in all, I only have one minor complaint about Easter.
Those stupid fucking plastic eggs are too tiny to fit anything in that an under-3 year old won't choke on. When we were kids, the eggs were a little bit bigger (my parents confirmed this fact). Nowadays the only ones I could find could hold one piece of gum or one mini-reese's peanut butter cup. They're DECEIVINGLY small too. I picked up a bag of super cute bugs from the Miss Spider books that I was sure would fit that were too big for the eggs. Grrrrrrrrr. Hence our putting cheerios in Alby's eggs.
However you celebrate Easter, I hope you had a good day. Being one of the non-religious crowd, for me, Easter is more a celebration that spring is here. We celebrate the bunnies and the eggs. I don't think there's anything wrong with that. I take the time at any holiday (regardless of purpose or secularity) to be thankful for what I have. I could not be more grateful for the wonderful friends and family I have been blessed with. We even got to spend Easter lunch with a friend's family after my parents went home. We're talking hard core kick ass Easter lunch. I'm still not sure what everything was but it tasted fancy even though it was in the company of easy-going, warm-hearted people.
Happy Easter to you and yours. If you have kids who have gone to bed, its time to dig in. I already ate the head off of Alby's chocolate bunny. :D

Our Dirt Garden

2010-04-04T17:45:00.001-07:00

Do you like our dirt garden?

I've had a couple neighbors ask what it is and the only answer can give them yet is 'dirt'. Contrary to popular belief I like playing outside in the dirt and working with things that grow. I've managed to grow some pretty big flowers using nothing more than miracle grow potting soil and water. Delaney is always talking about picking vegetables from a garden. It must be something she saw on tv. We have such a huge yard to play with, I figured it was time to test out our green thumbs and see if we can grow something edible. We set up the garden over the weekend and are currently prepping our seedlings to see what we'll have to work with. I've decided that if a plant won't grow in a little pot, it won't grow in what is essentially a bigger pot, so we won't waste our time walking across the yard to the garden for something that just won't grow. So far we have 2 pumpkin plants that have sprouted in just a week. That's a damn good start. After watching Linus and Sally sit in the pumpkin patch waiting for the Great Pumpkin, that is what Delaney wanted. We're going to try pumpkins, squash and tomatoes. We may wind up with nothing. That is what the produce section of our grocery store is for.
Here is one of our mini pumpkin plants at week 1.

We will have the pumpkin patch that is the most sincere.

Crazy dog people

2010-03-31T19:28:00.000-07:00

Long story short, I found the owners of the little dog we 'took in' (ie the dog that walked into my house) yesterday. The owners live in my neighborhood (a couple blocks away) and hung up fliers that said 'lost yorkie'. I called the number, got voicemail. Tried again a little while later, got voicemail again and left a message. A few minutes later they called back, verified it was theirs and came by to get it. She said they were out in the garden and they have 3 kids and things got hectic and they realized she had escaped. She said it wasn't the first time (since she's so tiny she fits through cracks) and that they actually have preprinted fliers.

Um. Moron.
Now I don't exactly pride myself on being the world's most responsible dog owner. My dogs don't wear collars because the jingling would wake up the babies and they can manage to get the collars off on their own. Because of that though, we do have them microchipped. They've gotten out a couple times when the back gate wasn't latched properly, but they ran to the front of the house and barked at the door. One time they took off around the corner and down the street. I drove after them and found them 10 minutes later in a neighbor's yard. Accidents happen. Dogs escape. Just because I find a dog doesn't make it MINE. I get all that. If my dogs ever really ran off and someone found them I would hope that they would do the right thing and take them to a vet to get scanned for a microchip so we can be reunited. I'm going to provide a free tutorial in dog ownership.

Lesson #1 - Microchip your dogs. Even a dog with a collar can lose it. Especially if they get really lost and aren't eating for a couple days. It doesn't take long for a collar to slip off. No matter how tight we made our dogs' collars they could slip out of them on a whim. The microchip will help ensure that you get your dog returned to you (so long as someone who is a good steward of the dog owning community finds them)

Lesson #2 - if you live in a neighborhood with a popular neighborhood message board, join said board if you're a dog owner. EVERYONE posts to it when they find a dog. EVERYONE posts to it when they lose a dog. Its the fastest way to reunite dogs and owners. Its also the fastest way to find out which streets have the biggest jerks about HOA compliance. The people who lost the tiny dog I found didn't check the board. I fault them now for being morons twice.

Lesson #3 - Call every vet close by and all animal shelters as soon as your dog goes missing. I left a description of the dog at 3 vet's offices and 2 animal shelters just in case someone contacted them looking for her.

Lesson #4 - If you don't care enough to do these things, you don't care enough to own a dog. You have no one to fault but yourself if your cute, well-trained dog goes missing and someone decides to keep her. I looked online. Yorkies are at least $800. A stray one weighing 5lbs won't last long.

Now is where I get to the crazy dog people part. While I was playing around online reading sites containing info on what to do if you find a dog or yorkie rescue groups I came across lots of sites of people selling dogs. Tiny dogs. Microscopic dogs. $3,000 microscopic dogs.

What. The. Fuck.

If you're stupid enough to pay $3000 for a dog, you win the stupidest person in the universe contest. Is a 4lb dog really that much better than a 6lb dog that you can get for $400? What exactly is the purpose of a 4lb dog? I saw from the pictures that you can fit it in a teacup. Is that worth 3 gs to you? These people are nut jobs. They reminded me of the creepy doll people who carry around those 'reborn' dolls and pretend they're real babies. Its creepy as hell.

Now I'm guilty of babying my dogs. Well I used to before I had kids anyway. When mine were puppies they were too small for dog toys. This was before the days of micro-dogs I guess. I actually got baby toys for Annabelle when she was a puppy b/c they were the only things that would fit in her mouth. I took a million pictures of them playing with squeaky toys or tangled up in a blanket on the couch. Cuteness.

These weirdo dog people though take it to a whole other level. They've managed to breed a dog that stays a puppy forever. I guess that is what lets them dress them up in baby bonnets and posed in doll strollers. C-R-E-E-P-Y. This is not dressing your dog up for halloween. We used to do that every year. It was also hilarious and ironic not 'omg thats so ADORABLE!' Case in point, Darby was Darth Vader one year. The reasons are actually obvious if you know her.

Viewing all the designer puppy postings was like viewing crime scene photos. Sick and wrong but you can't stop looking. With the exception of their appearance, there was nothing remarkable about these dogs. They weren't smarter or better behaved. hell they aren't even house broken. They all say that you can't have one if you have children in the home. I'm thinking its more because the 'breeders' want someone who will share the same enthusiasm for rhinestone studded dog collars and carrying a dog in a purse with a bow on its head than someone looking for a cute companion for their family. I'm probably in the minority on this one but I've always felt safer, the smaller the dog is that we own once we had kids. I know bigger dogs are supposed to do better with children but even dogs who are bred to be kind and sweet and unaggressive are still animals. They can turn on you and a 50lb dog could do a lot of damage to a toddler.
A 7lb dog cannot. They just don't have the jaw strength to hold on when a 3 year old fights back after getting bit. Just sayin.

Someone needs to start selling older, well-behaved, housebroken dogs that already do cool tricks like sitting and staying put. THOSE would be worth a thousand dollars. I will never again own a puppy. You never know what kind of dog you're going to wind up with. I got a little antisocial shit who doesn't even have the decency to hide after taking a dump on my carpet. More often than not, she'll lay back down on the bed with a look on her face like 'thats right, bitch I did it. whatcha gonna do about it?'

come to think of it....Six year old, female Silky Terrier for sale. Cheap.

We're all fine :)

2010-03-30T20:21:00.001-07:00

We're slowly adjusting to our new schedules. The girls (so far) love going to daycare. Even Alby is having a good time. Delaney has made me out to be a huge liar yet again by eating anything they give her at school. This is the child who would only eat chicken nuggets, fries, waffles, bagels, pretzels, grapes, grilled cheese, yogurt and mac and cheese for the past 2 years. Now she eats EVERYTHING and tells them how much she LOVES it. Nice.
My days aren't any longer than they used to be, but they go by faster and I'm happier. I don't think people understand how its less tiring being at work than it was being at home. It is though. I love it. I'm super happy and I love the quality time I have with the kids in the evenings. Score one for mom.

On another note, I've somehow come in possession of ANOTHER stray dog. My neighborhood needs better fences or something. This is the 2nd dog that has come into my garage in the past 2 months. The first one was wild and hyper and too big but luckily had tags so we could locate her owners. The little one I found today was tagless and unfortunately not microchipped. She's about 5-7lbs. All yorkie (according to the vet who scanned her for a chip) and I would guess quite old. I know yorkies have teeth issues but this poor thing is missing most of her top teeth. I think thats why my dogs dont care about her being around. She snapped at them a couple times when she was laying near me and they came over. They just looked at her and walked on. A 6lb toothless dog isnt much of a threat. I'm more worried about her getting sat on or crushed by one of the kids toys. I put out the notice on the neighborhood message board and I'll hang up some fliers tomorrow. Cross your fingers.

An open letter to my daughters

2010-03-21T20:52:00.000-07:00

Dear Delaney and Alby,
I know you don’t understand this now. I hope that someday you do.
Everything I do has been for you. Every day when I don’t necessarily feel like getting out of bed, I know that you need me to. I’m sorry I haven’t always been the perfect mom that you deserve. You deserve someone who loves every second they are with you. Someone who can’t WAIT to see you in the morning. Someone who keeps you up past your bedtime just for an extra few minutes with you. I know I haven’t always been that person. Our lives haven’t turned out the way I wanted them to. We’ve had to make the best out of a truly spectacularly crappy situation. Sacrifices have been handed over in the interest of survival. Mine and by extension, yours.
What we’re going to be doing this week is in the best interest of all three of us.
That place we went for a few days last week...well this week you’re going to be spending a little more time there. A lot more time actually. I know they don’t have a t.v. I’m sorry. I know they don’t have 2 dogs to play with (or sit on like they’re pieces of furniture). I know they don’t have me.
Here is what they do have.
Lots of kids your age to play with.
Teachers who won’t get distracted by facebook or the Simpsons.
Messy arts and crafts, including something called ‘paint’
An indoor sand table (no we can’t move ours from the porch to the living room)
Something to eat other than chicken nuggets, fish sticks, mac and cheese and grilled cheese sandwiches.
A guinea pig (over my dead body will there ever be one in our house so you’d better enjoy him at school)
Structure and consistency (supposedly small children crave it although I don’t understand why)
A chance to go outside and play twice a day on a really great playground as long as its not raining.
I know its going to be hard at first. You’re going to miss easing into your day by laying on the sofa with your feet on the dog, leisurely drinking your milk or lemonade and watching cartoons. Hell, we don’t even get out of our pajamas half the time. Trust me, I’m going to miss that too. Mama loves her pajama pants and morning coffee. You’re going to miss your toys, your old friends.

You’re going to miss me.

Not half as much as I’m going to miss you though.

That’s what all this is for. I need to miss you. I’m going to be a much better mom if I can miss you a little bit. I’m going to be so happy to see you in the mornings, evenings and weekends that it will probably get annoying after awhile. We’ll do FUN things together during those times. Instead of just hiding in the house and waiting until the next naptime or bedtime or visitor from out of town. We’ll do what YOU want to do and not just what I want to do. We’ll enjoy the time we have together like the absolutely precious gift that it is.
I know this is all a lot to understand. I know not everyone does. You always hear people say that at the end of their life, no one looks back and wishes they spent more time at the office.
You have to take that shit in context though, girls. Spending 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year with JUST US has turned my home life INTO my work life. Home shouldn’t feel like a job. You can’t enjoy home if you never leave. People always talk about work/life balance. You can’t have one without the other. You can’t work ALL the time but you can’t stay home all the time either. Plus I really want both of you to go to college. I don’t even care what you study. Major in ballet dancing or pottery for all I care. All I want is for you to be happy and TRUST me, going away to college will make you happy. If you don’t believe me, ask your Aunt Sara and Aunt Liasa about how Mommy spent fall semester of her junior year. By the time you guys are 18, I’m thinking college is going to cost around $80,000.00 a year. Therefore, Mama needs to go back to work if you want more than an education in air conditioning repair.
So next week we all need to suck it up and put on our ‘going out’ clothes as soon as we wake up and face our new lives. I promise you, it will all be worth it. If you grow up and decide I made a huge mistake, please feel free to tell your therapists that I ruined your lives by going back to work and putting you in daycare. I accept full responsibility for this decision, the same way I have for every other decision I’ve made since the day both of you were born. Not to minimize the job your father had, but come on. Mama decides what goes down around here. I think we’ve done pretty well so for. There’s only been one trip to the emergency room and zero phone calls to poison control. I know you weren’t too keen on moving from our old house into our swanky new pad and look how well that has turned out. We have DUCKS in our pond now! We can walk to Maddie and Lillie’s house! Miss Jessica always has cookies! We’re closer than ever to McDonalds!

This just the first in a long line of experiences that will be explained away with ‘I’m doing this because I love you.”. Just wait until its when I tell you no you can’t have a motorcycle or date the nice boy with the face tattoo.

You’ll understand someday when you have daughters of your own. Its all part of the karmic payback we all receive when we become parents. I’m reminded of that every time one of you (I won’t say which one, but only one of you talks) snottily replies ‘WHAT’ when I call your name or when Alby dives off the back of the couch. One of you may look just like your dad, but you are MY daughters from the tops of your heads to the tips of your toes.

Nighty night, monkeys. Our new adventure awaits.

Love,
Mom

A lesson for anyone who wants to go at it alone

2010-03-09T20:17:00.000-08:00

I had an interesting conversation with a friend tonight regarding how her sister was toying with the idea of having kids on her own if she doesn’t fall in love and get married by a certain age. I have some words of wisdom for her. And for anyone else out there with a romantic notion about child-rearing. If you’re happily married and loving your life, you don’t have to read any further. I didn’t write this for sympathy points. I know everyone already feels sorry for me. :) This is just a public service announcement for my single, child-free readers (like there are any)

I want to preface this by stating that there is a huge difference between winding up a single mom and choosing ahead of time to be one. The first group includes women who find themselves pregnant without a spouse and opt against abortion or adoption and decide to raise the baby on their own. That is NOT the same thing as CHOOSING to be a single mom before you get pregnant. Just want to put that out there.

There is nothing WRONG with CHOOSING to have children when you’re flying solo. I personally feel it matters not in the eyes of a child whether or not they have 2 parents or 1. All a kid wants is to be loved. Not to just be a member of the historically socially accepted idea of what a family should look like. There is a lot to think about though. I’m sure you’ve put a lot of thought and emotion into such a huge decision. I just feel its my responsibility as a single parent to give you a realistic idea of what you’re in for. Its easier to ignore a friend or family member who already has a loving marriage and cute, sweet kids when they tell you how hard parenthood is with 2 people let alone 1. Its like when people with a ton of money tell you that being rich isn’t everything. You sort of want to punch them in the face.

I am going to describe a day in my life. Its not the WORST day. Its just a slightly worse than average day. I just want you to have all the facts.

I wake up to the sound of crying from the next room. I get the feeling its been going on for more than a minute or two. I groggily roll over and look at the clock thinking I’m way too tired for it to be morning. The clock says 2:30am. I know I’m screwed before my feet hit the floor. I go into Delaney’s room and see that she’s thrown up in her bed. I pick her up and she’s burning hot. Damn it. She’s exhausted and sick and scared. I take her into the bathroom, get her cleaned off and make her comfortable while I strip her bed, cover it with extra blankets and towels, and then run downstairs to get watered down lemonade in a sippy cup for my feverish 3 year old. By the time I get Delaney back in bed, she’s thrown up a couple more times and an hour has passed since I first saw the 2:30 on my clock. Even if Delaney sleeps the rest of the night, I know I won’t.

Alby wakes up at 7:15. I get her changed into new pajamas since her ridiculously wet diaper has soaked through hers. I add her old pajamas and sheets onto my ever-growing pile of laundry. The next few hours are spent juggling a whiny, needy 1 year old and a feverish, crabby 3 year old. I go from task to task without ever really completing anything. Cups are filled, cookies are handed out, faces are wiped off, dishes are piled up in the sink. I’m now really regretting not cleaning the kitchen last night before I went to bed. We’re out of clean spoons and I have to use a plastic baby spoon for my morning yogurt. Nice.

We’re actually doing ok since Delaney is able to keep liquids down and doze on the couch. I’m not even bothering calling the doctor yet because they don’t do anything for stomach bugs unless its been several days. Alby hands me her empty cup and whines. I go to refill it and there’s only about 2oz of milk left in the carton. I run to the garage while she screams wanting her drink back. I open the outside fridge to get the backup milk only to realize that WAS the backup milk and we are officially out of milk. I have a sick 3 year old. I can’t go to the store. I mix half and half with water, give it to Alby and hate myself.

Since its been 4 hours since Delaney had tylenol and I go to give her more and there’s half a dose left. Shit shit shit. I cry and feel like the worst mom on the planet with my inability to keep fucking MILK and childrens TYLENOL in the house. I call my best friend to ask for help. She shows up 5 minutes later with milk, and tylenol.

Alby eats chicken nuggets for the 3rd day in a row. Its just easier to give her something I know she’ll eat that won’t make a huge mess. I’m actually hesitant to give her messy food or a spoon because the mess is so bad and one more mess is the last thing I need. I’ve already scrubbed crayon off of my kitchen table and orange juice out of the couch. Mickey mouse stickers cover half the surfaces in my living room. I’ve given up caring about those. I also just got hit in the head with a fake plastic ice cream cone that came sailing over the railing from the playroom. I vow to hide all play food as soon as the girls are asleep.

Delaney seems to be doing much better and hasn’t had a fever in a few hours. She’s still not eating but she’s drinking a lot and not as lethargic as she was so I pronounce us over the hump and say a small prayer of thanks that no one has to go to the hospital for an IV.

While the girls are napping, I check up on facebook and see a post from a friend about how she’s on her way to get a pedicure while her husband watches the kids for her. I hate her. Mind you this is someone who is sweet and wonderful and DESERVING of said pedicure but I hate her just the same. Then I hate myself some more for being such a hateful horrible person.

Its now 4pm and I’ve been awake for 14 hours. I haven’t showered. I’m hungry because I’ve eaten nothing but goldfish crackers all day. The washing machine has been going since 8am and there’s still laundry to be done. Don’t get me started on the piles of clean laundry on my bed that I’m afraid to touch b/c I’m filthy and smelly from having not showered. There’s also probably vomit in my hair from Delaney’s 2am barfing episode.

Its 6pm. I’m planning on putting the girls to bed at 6:30 because I just can’t take it anymore. I don’t even care that that means they’ll be up before 7am. I’m tired, guilty, worried and sad. This isn’t the life I signed up for. Its not the life I wanted. I’m jealous towards everyone out there who has a husband who comes home right about now when they’re pulling their hair out and wishing their kids would just stop crying and fighting. I know that even after I put them to bed, I’ve got several hours of dishes, picking up, clothes folding and putting away to do. That doesn’t include the fact that I still need to shower. That doesn’t include the fact that my bathroom hasn’t been cleaned in 3 weeks. That doesn’t include the fact that my floor hasn’t been vacuumed in god only knows how long. I know if I don’t stay totally on top of everything, the universe will smack me a big one by having someone throw up at 2am. I know deep down that was the lesson I was taught by leaving the dishes in the sink LAST night.

Its now 10:30. I’m clean. The dishwasher is loaded and running. All the clothes are washed and everything that’s mine is put away. I feed the dogs the dinner I forgot to feed them at 6pm. I look longingly at the pile of books I haven’t had a chance to read. I scroll through my dvr and realize I have 5 episodes of modern family I haven’t had a chance to watch.

I’ve had an 18 hour day. I look around and realize I’m just barely breaking even. As much work as today was, I wasn’t what you would call ‘productive’. The house isn’t clean. Its just manageable. We didn’t play any fun or educational games. We just watched tv and sorted all the toy dinosaurs. I’m not wearing real clothes with my hair blown out. I’ve been in pajamas for 2 whole days.

I struggle and strain and fret and suffer and we still just barely get through the day sometimes. That’s not to say there’s never any fun times or that I wouldn’t choose to still have my children knowing what I know now.

I just want you to know what the reality REALLY is. Its not just kids laughing in the park or sitting quietly reading an Eric Carle book.

Its a 3 year old throwing up in her bed. Its finding a 2 week old sippy cup with milk still in it under your car seat. Its walking around the grocery store only to realize you had SOMEBODY’S poop (possibly even the dog’s) smeared on your shirt. Awesomeness. Oh you also ran into 2 people you know during that grocery store trip.

Its seeing your toddler cling to the cable repairman and realizing its because she doesn’t have a dad of her own. Its feeling so bad that you’re too tired for horsey rides and impromptu trips to the ice cream store. Its feeling SO bad when you read a friend’s blog and see the laundry list of fun family things they did over the weekend. Full of pictures of smiling children and Daddies at restaurants and the park. And realizing you spent last weekend hiding in the house and only getting out to get drive-thru McDonalds.

Guilty, guilty, guilty.

I don’t know if you feel more or less guilty if you decided to do this on your own from the get go. I’m not sure I could feel any worse, but I guess its possible. Even perfect parents with perfect 2 adult households feel guilty half the time. All parents do.

Parenthood is hard enough with 2 adults.
Its damn near impossible with 1. That doesn’t mean you can’t do it. That doesn’t mean your kids won’t be better off with 1 parent instead of 2. 1 happy parent is WAY better than 2 people stuck in a miserable marriage. You’re not doing anyone any favors there.
If you’re solo, It just means a hell of a lot more work for you. Not everyone is cut out for it. I know I’m not. Sadly, I wasn’t given a choice so we just do the best we can.

1 kid and 2 adults is hard. It gets exponentially harder the number of degrees that equation changes. 2 kids and 2 adults is harder. 1 kid and 1 adult is harderer. 2 kids and 1 adult is madness.

Its 10:13pm. There’s a basket of clean laundry at the foot of my bed and a load in the dryer. I just remembered tomorrow is trash day and I haven’t dragged the trash cans to the curb. Meh.

Workin' 9 to 5

2010-03-08T12:13:00.000-08:00

“What a way to...something something”

Since I first posted about the possibility of my returning to work, I’ve been thinking about it non-stop. I thought long and hard about all the pros and cons. I thought over all the um...feedback? I got from people on whether it was a wise move or not. I thought about whether I would be cheating my kids or doing them a huge favor. I thought about preparing for interviews. I thought about whether or not I would even be able to FIND daycare. I thought about the likelihood of getting paid enough to offset daycare, taxes and how I’d lose my portion of social security. I thought about waking up to an alarm clock instead of 2 jabbering toddlers.

I thought a lot.

In the end, my reasons for wanting to return to work were both basic and complicated. One, I want to be able to support my family. After all, I have a 401k that has just been sitting there not getting any bigger. You can only ignore that for so long before you’ll be retiring at the age of 80 and living off of cat food. No longer having another income earner in the house, the thought of living off of the government (social security) bothered me as well. I was never bothered being a stay at home mom when Steve was still supporting us. I felt I did my part to contribute to our family and while I wasn’t earning any money being hard at work 24/7 MOTHERING 2 kids, the country wasn’t footing the bill for our lifestyle. Being unemployed suddenly started to bother me. Maybe it was because I no longer felt I was doing a bang-up job being a mom. I mean my kids are loved and well taken care of, but we’re not spending our days looking at flash cards or reading piles of story books or making macaroni necklaces at the children’s museum. Which brings me to reason number Two. I feel I could be doing BETTER if I wasn’t with them 24 hours a day. Absence after all, makes the heart grow fonder, right? I think the opportunity to MISS my kids a little bit will make me appreciate the time I have with them.
A good mommy is a happy mommy. Being that I’m no longer really HAPPY staying at home, I made the decision that a change was in order.
Man did I own that decision. I took it and ran with it. I started spending my free time reading testing books and practicing SQL. I researched common interview questions and put a lot of thought into how I really felt about their answers. I looked into daycare to see if I could even find one we could afford. I also did a LOT of math to see just how to make this work.
I figured it would be forever before I found a job to apply for. Turns out it took about 10 days before there was an opening at my old company. I figured even if I found the job, they’d never pay me what I needed to keep from being upside down in this whole endeavor. Turns out that was less of an issue than I thought. I figured I’d never find a daycare on my way to work that I could afford that had immediate openings. Turned out I found one I really liked. I figured I’d even if all those pieces fell in place, I’d never get the job.
Turned out I was wrong again. I got a phone call telling me I was hired at 5:45pm last Friday afternoon while I was in a cab on my way to a friend’s birthday party downtown.

Methinks the universe is trying to tell me something.

Finding out I had the job made me happier than I’ve probably been in years. The thought of spending my days with bright, interesting people doing cool interesting things makes me giddy. I was very fortunate that I really loved what I did. I only quit because Delaney was born. I felt I was really good at my job. It paid my bills and I thoroughly enjoyed the people I worked with. Some of the best friends I’ve made in my life were made at work. Some of the smartest people I’ve ever seen in real life worked there as well. I was never conflicted about the work my company did (ie my company wasn’t manufacturing weapons grade plutonium or anything) My commute to work, albeit long, was also very pretty and I pass 3 or 4 Starbucks each way. Its not too shabby.

I feel 100% confident I made the best decision for both me and my family. I’m also very proud of myself for having the drive to DO something about my situation instead of feeling sorry for myself and wishing things were different.

I’m happy to be a working girl again. Now I just have to find where I packed my swingline stapler and corporate motivational posters...

Douche of the day - Utah

2010-03-02T18:59:00.000-08:00

Like I needed one more reason to never set foot in Utah
On my list right behind polygamy farms and the Osmonds lies the following:
http://abcnews.go.com/Health/utah-abortion-bill-punishing-miscarriages-preventing-crime/story?id=9955517

I’ve been following this story for the past couple days and am literally nauseated that this sort of bill can get passed in America circa 2010.

First, let me state that I don’t condone the act of beating your teenage girlfriend to cause a miscarriage. I’m going on record stating that I'm on the anti-girlfriend-beating-to-cause-miscarriage side of the debate. I won’t get into the myriad of issues related to this incident, the first of which being that this young girl had to be unbelievably desperate to think this was her only option.

What I’ll focus on is the wording of the bill which states that ‘reckless behavior’ on behalf of the mother resulting in a miscarriage can be prosecuted.

That my friends is a fancy word for ‘loophole’. Don’t think for one minute that the phrase is there by accident.

It will be up to the district attorney (however many there are in Utah) whether or not charges are warranted in cases of miscarriage. This opens the door to all medical records involving miscarriages being subpoena’d while the courts decide if the mother was at fault. After all, we need SOMEONE to pay for the loss of a fetus’s life and what better place to start than the mother. She is after all nothing more than an incubator, having flushed all her personal rights down the toilet when she decided to get pregnant in the first place. It should be a CRIME to engage in such RECKLESS behavior as caffeine consumption or jogging. Hope you didn’t enjoy a greek salad or raspberry leaf tea there, mom. If you lose your baby, know that the state of Utah has your number and will be thoroughly investigating your behavior in the weeks leading up to your miscarriage.

It won’t matter that she had spent 12 weeks researching the perfect crib and organic crib bedding ensemble. It won’t matter that she spent an entire weekend with a highlighter and post-it tabs going through 20,000 baby names in the baby name book. It won’t matter that she went out and bought Dreft, pacifiers and 30 newborn sized onesies the day her pregnancy test came back positive. It won’t matter that she put a pair of headphones over her belly and played Mozart because she read it would make the baby smarter, and Radiohead because its both her and her husbands favorite band and she can’t stand the thought of having a child who doesn’t love them. It won’t matter that she read Guess How Much I Love you out loud while rocking in the perfect glider chair in the unfinished nursery. It won’t matter that she spent half her life fantasizing about those 10 perfect fingers and 10 perfect toes and holding her baby for the first time and smelling her perfect little head.

All that will matter is that she stopped at Sonic for a diet coke when she was 16 weeks pregnant, or sat outside at the neighborhood bistro 2 tables away from someone smoking or gave in to her pregnancy cravings and ate a hot dog. Then she started bleeding that night and all of her hopes and dreams were shattered.

You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.

We got our snow day

2010-02-23T17:37:00.000-08:00

I've been waiting for this forever. The last time we had snow accumulation in Austin was Valentines Day 2004. It snowed overnight and into the early morning. I think it stopped before 6am. It also completely melted by 9:30 and was 55 degrees that day. We got up before dawn and took Annabelle outside to see how she'd handle it. We laughed until we cried watching her lift her paws in and out of the snow. We took a million pictures and made some really special memories. Our first and only snow day! We've had a couple of random flurries here and there since then. Nothing ever sticks to anything so its just pretty to watch and try to catch snowflakes on your tongue. We got REALLY lucky this year and had at least 3 snow flurry 'events'. I consider all of them special and am overjoyed at every single one.

Today we hit the jackpot.

It started snowing this morning around 8 and snowed on and off all day. We're talking big fat flakes of snow that stuck to everything and looked BEAUTIFUL! Just when you thought that was it, we'd get more. It was the best day ever. There's nothing quite like Texas kids and snow. Its adorable. Everyone turns into big goobers when it snows down here. All sense of responsibility and authority come to a grinding halt. Everyone runs outside. Everyone throws snowballs and makes goofy snowmen.

Its awesome.

Here are some pictures from today. I know a lot of you get snow all the time. That its a big pain in the ass to shovel your driveways and drive to work sliding around on it. I know the salt eats the paint on your cars and your carpet is always wet from people tracking snow into your house.
Just remember that snow is special. Conditions have to be just perfect for you to get snow instead of rain (or freezing rain). It doesn't happen everywhere. It doesn't happen all the time. Take a minute to watch it falling the next time it snows where you live. Its really beautiful.

this was the most beautiful perfect day
today was a gift from someone
probably a couple of someones

the house is warm
and the view is breathtaking

it covers the trees and melts on the pond
I never thought I’d get to see it so close to our kitchen window

I can’t believe you’re not here
to see the tiny snowmen popping up in the yards
the ones lovingly made from 1.5 inches worth of snow

to hear the george winston on the stereo
our kids laughing in the snow
you’re so close today, I can feel you in the snowflakes on my eyelashes

you’re so close.
just not close enough

Suck on this, Bobby Flay

2010-02-20T21:03:00.000-08:00

Dear Steve,
You were on my mind a lot today. From the first time I pulled your cookbooks off the bookshelf to the lighting of your grill. YOUR grill. It will always be your grill and not mine. I tried to do you proud today. I know how much effort, blood, sweat and tears you put into everything you did. Cooking was no exception. You always took an idea and RAN with it. You couldn’t do something just a little bit. You did it all the way. You didn’t cut corners or take shortcuts. You also did things right the first time. Everything was always perfect.

Especially your food.

When you’re lying in bed next to the person you love, you think about all the big important things you’d miss if they were gone. The meaningful things. The smiles, the jokes the hugs, the way their eyes look when they’re pretending to be mad, right before they bust out laughing.

I definitely miss all those things.

I also miss your food.

I’ll always remember the ribs (and the unholy things we did with them like make them into some bastardized cuban sandwiches) because they were the last meal we ate before Alby was born. I always wondered if they held some magical property that made me go into labor. They could have. They were that fucking good.
I’ve been thinking I might be able to use a combination of female intuition and process of elimination and figure out exactly how you made them. It seems on the surface like an impossible task. After all, we own 25 cookbooks. Turns out, you made it easy.
You were such a ‘by the book’ guy. I played the ‘what would Steve have done’ game. Once I started thinking like you, it all came together. It didn’t matter that there were 40 different bbq rub recipes (I at least knew you made your own) I took all the spices out of our pantry and found the ONE recipe that only had ingredients we owned.
Rib rub - check.
I knew how you felt about those PBS cookbooks, so I found the grilling version and figured you would have done everything ‘by the book’.
Rib cooking directions - check.
My Dad filled in the blanks with the wood chips and cooking time modified for our grill.
2 days later, bbq perfection. At least I thought so. I guess my parents could have just been being polite but its quite a commitment to eat an entire rack of ribs if they suck.

2.26 lbs of pork loin baby back ribs - $11.88
1 bulb of garlic - .50
1 bottle lime juice - $2.99
1/2 gallon orange juice - $2.89
a shitload ton of spices we already had in our pantry - free

Feeling closer to you than I have in a long time - priceless

Love,
Kathie

Steve Quinn’s Badass BBQ Ribs

Rib Rub (recipe to follow)
rack of pork loin baby back ribs
mojo sauce (recipe to follow)
fresh baked loaf of bread from the bakery section of your favorite grocery store
dijon mustard
Claussen pickles (the sandwich slices kind)
Cheese slices of your choice

Rib Rub Recipe
4 tablespoons sweet paprika
2 tablespoons chili powder
2 tablespoons ground cumin
2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
2 tablespoons salt
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 tablespoon ground black pepper
1 tablespoon ground white pepper
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper

Mix all spices in a small tupperware container. You can store it for weeks in your pantry and unless you’re bbq-ing an entire pig, you won’t use all of the rub in one bbq session.

The night before you Q, lay out your rack of ribs and pull off the membrane using a paper towel. Dry off the meat and liberally (but don’t get ridiculous) sprinkle the rub on. RUB it in with your fingers, flip ribs over and repeat on opposite side. Cover ribs with saran wrap and stick in the fridge until tomorrow afternoon.

Get a couple cups of the wood chips of your choice. Soak them in water for about 15 minutes. Drain water and put chips in a foil pan (or do what we did and make your own out of aluminum foil) Put over the main burner in your gas grill. Turn all burners onto HIGH and close the lid. Let that puppy heat up for about 15 minutes until good and smoking. Then turn the main burner down to medium and all the other burners off. Position ribs (after you take the saran wrap off) onto the ‘cool’ part of the grill and close the lid. The goal is to keep the temp at around 275. Anywhere under 325 is fine. Turn your ribs every 30 minutes. Its supposed to take 2-3 hours but it depends on rib size, grill size and cooking temp. The rule is, if you can start to pull the meat off the bones, they’re done.

Wrap ribs in aluminum foil and then put THAT in a brown paper sack that you cinch closed tight. Let it sit for an hour. The steam inside the foil is what redistributes the juices and makes the ribs super tender. Trust me.

Sit on your ass for 45 minutes.

When there’s about 15 minutes until rib time, put together the mojo sauce. This step is only if you’re making cuban sandwiches out of your ribs. If you’re just going to eat the ribs like normal people forego this next section.

Mojo Sauce Recipe
1/2 cup olive oil
6 cloves garlic
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1/2 cup orange juice
1/4 cup lime juice
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

Heat olive oil in frying pan over medium heat. Add garlic and cumin and heat for about 30 seconds. You don't want the garlic to brown. Take off heat, add juice and salt and pepper. Return to head and simmer for 1 minute. Then let cool to room temp.

Take ribs out of aluminum foil rib-sauna. Pull meat off bone and chop up to your liking.

Cut two big pieces of bread. Slather liberally with dijon mustard. On one piece, put pickles on first. Then pile meat on add mojo sauce and cover with cheese. Put 2nd piece of bread on top and put on a griddle or frying pan and cover with something heavy. We used a brick wrapped in foil. You’re essentially making a panini. Just a really weird one. You can also heat open-faced under a broiler to melt the cheese.

That’s it. I hope you enjoy them. Don’t think about entering them into any cooking contests, because I’ll totally sue you.

If you hate the ribs (or the sandwiches) don’t blame me. I’m just the messenger. All complaints and grievances can be taken up with the chef. Wear comfortable shoes. Its quite a hike up Mount Nittany.

The great Steve Rib Experiment - Attempt # 1

2010-02-19T07:05:00.000-08:00

One of the many hard things about having someone close to you pass away is the knowledge they take with them. As much as we all try to be present and aware of what our spouses are doing, there are certain things that you will inevitably be in the dark about. At our house, it was any and all things related to outdoor cooking.
Steve was a bit of a grill afficianado. As I'm sure most dudes aspire to be. He'd pour over books and public access grilling shows to learn all the tricks and techniques to achieving the perfect 'smoke ring' or barbecued chicken that doesn't catch on fire. One of the last awesome bbq meals he made was the night before Alby was born. He used to grill up ribs which we would pull off the bone, chop up and cover with mojo sauce and eat with melted cheese and pickles. Steve called them Gringo-Cubans.

I want this meal again so bad I will try anything to replicate it.

The details are sketchy. I remember that I would have to help him apply the rub the night before. We'd wrap the ribs in saran wrap and then they were grilled on our gas grill. I know they didn't take a ridiculously long amount of time either. I remember asking him once mid-afternoon if he had to start the meat and he looked at me like I was insane. I know which cookbook his rub recipe was from. I know how to make the mojo sauce (my one job in all of this) Everything else will be a combination of hearsay and 2nd-hand knowledge gathered from my friends' husbands and my Dad.
Yesterday I picked up 2.26 lbs of pork loin baby-back ribs. Tonight we rub. Tomorrow we grill.
I'll post pictures of our greatness or spectacular failure. When we get it right (and it will probably take multiple tries) I'll post the recipe.

To all you ladies out there whose husbands make a particularly tasty dish you enjoy, make sure he writes down exactly how its done. Also pay attention the next time he does it. You never know when you'll need it.

Douche of the day - Texas Department of State Health Services

2010-02-15T12:36:00.000-08:00

I’m singling out Texas because that is the state I live in, and therefore theirs are the WIC rules I’m about to do my spiel on.

Brief overview:

food stamps - Money to buy food. We all know what food stamps are, but the category of recipient is not limited to pregnant women, moms and small children. You still have to qualify based on income/family size etc.

WIC - think of WIC as food stamps for pregnant moms and moms/children under the age of 5.

I am all for both programs. I believe they are separated because you can get more $$ worth of things on WIC if you have small kids. I did NOT know the list of foods you can get differed so greatly.

Food stamps are pretty basic. Here in Texas you get a debit card and can purchase any food item on it up to whatever dollar amount you were given for each month. Its just like your debit card from your bank except you can only buy things that you eat. There are NO rules past that. The following statement was pulled from the United States Department of Agriculture - Food and Nutrition Service (the peeps who run the food stamps program) :

“all food intended to be eaten at home. This includes the four staple food categories mentioned earlier as well as nonalcoholic beverages, snack foods, soft drinks, candy, and ice.”

Um. What? You can get soda and candy on food stamps? Mmmmmmkaaaaay. That seems a little generous but....well ok.

Here is what you CAN’T get:

“vitamins or medicines”
“nonfood items such as tissues, soaps, cosmetics, or other household goods”

Lets recap.
Junior can have mountain dew and snickers bars but not flintstones vitamins or kleenex. Oh and his mom can’t purchase ziploc bags or detergent or shampoo. But she can have twinkees and diet coke and bottled water.

Are you kidding me? Food stamps - FAIL.

WIC is utterly fucking ridiculous. Let me backtrack...
My friend Heather was behind someone in the grocery store who was using WIC and there was an issue with the milk she wanted. Long story short, Heather is a kind human being and bought the lady’s milk for her. Good deed. She’s a good person. If you want the rest of the story, her blog is here www.whenheathermetblog.blogspot.com.

I read her story and thought, ‘hmm...that’s odd. I thought any food qualified” That is when I went online and looked up the difference between food stamps and WIC.
I guess its a hell of a lot easier to qualify for WIC so long as you have the requisite aged children. And I guess you’re allowed an insane amount of the food on the WIC list b/c there’s not much on that list.
If you don’t believe me, go to the Texas department of state health services and download the WIC product list. Then prepare to vomit. Especially now that you know what you CAN get on food stamps.
I’ll condense this into the most ridiculous policies.
-No blended baby food. IE, you can get a jar of gerber bananas and a jar of gerber apples but not a jar of gerber apple-banana. Note to anyone who doesn’t have a baby....the blends aren’t more expensive.
-No calcium fortified milk. Seriously? We’re talking small children (or babies) whose parents are poor and can’t afford food on their own. Methinks these small people deserve all the calcium we can get in them. Bones don’t grow on tap water alone.
-No organic anything. This one I’m not too up in arms about since there is nothing wrong with non-organic food and organic food costs a fortune and the benefits have yet to be proven in a court of law.
-No DHA added baby food. REALLY? I have the same argument here as the no calcium fortified milk. These babies can probably use a little extra DHA. Its for brain development. Just sayin’.
-Only Similac formula. REALLY????? I can understand our government having a deal with one infant formula manufacturer to make it cheaper on them but I’m willing to bet that even THAT isn’t cheaper than Costco formula which is what we used.
You get the idea. For each of the food categories (there’s not many) the first thing it says is the cheapest brand. You also can’t have potatoes. Of any variety other than sweet potatoes. That seems weird. Potatoes aren’t bad for you. There’s a lot of good shit in there that can help fill up a hungry belly. Just...weird.

So to recap, food stamps - too little restriction. WIC - too much restriction. I think we can do a MUCH better job here. Since everything is state based, each state should drop 60k on a food service program oversight consultant. This person’s ONLY job is to compile the list of foods/non-foods (seriously, no shampoo?) that you should be able to get on government assistance.
It will save your state millions of dollars. No joke. I’ll do the job for 50k.

No child should go without good milk, peanut butter, bananas, SOAP, KLEENEX, tylenol, cough medicine, Costco brand chicken nuggets (every kids favorite and dirt cheap) and toilet paper.
No child should be given candy if they can’t afford toilet paper. Its just good common sense.

Happy Valentine's Day

2010-02-14T18:27:00.000-08:00

I got an unexpected present today from a stranger. I took the girls to the grocery store to get wine, Valentines balloons for the kids, and bananas (I know, weird list) and was once again dressed inappropriately for the weather. Today’s high was 68. It was sunny and beautiful. At 2pm. At 4pm it was 44, cloudy with 45 mph winds. Kind of a nasty surprise when you have no idea the weather was going to change like that. The girls were in cute little valentine’s day outfits but no coats or hats. Mommy-fail. Since it was ridiculously windy, we were booking it from the car to the store. I was trying to explain to Delaney that all the race-car carts were gone and avoid a meltdown while getting them INTO the cart and out of the wind when I looked at Alby’s foot and saw she was missing a shoe. At that same moment, a man walked over, pointed to her foot and asked if I lost it. I said yes, that I had no idea it fell off. He said he actually saw it across the parking lot but didn’t want to pick it up in case someone knew they dropped it and was going back for it. Then, this guy RUNS across the f’n parking lot in freezing cold temperatures and gale force winds to get my baby’s shoe. He brought it back, said ‘here you go’, smiled at the kids and left.
I stood in the produce section and cried.
Talk about the kindness of strangers. That is a hugely considerate thing to do for another human being. Especially one you don’t know.
Honestly, if Steve were still alive and we just got inside the grocery store from the shitty weather, looked down saw a shoe-less foot, we would just let it go. I really don’t think he would go back and look for the shoe in that kind of weather. I wouldn’t either. But this guy did.
Guy at HEB, thank you for making my Valentine’s Day. I hope you get some from your wife tonight.

We also found a dog. Ugh. I don’t even want the 2 dogs we have. They bark and steal snacks and sippy cups and are just generally bothersome. But at the same time I don’t want anything bad to happen to them, so we go about our days with general disdain for each other. The little shits also sleep on my bed and get crabby if you try to move them out of your way. When we came back from the grocery store, I saw a dog run past my driveway and a young girl run after it. I asked her if the dog was hers and if she needed a hand catching it. She said no, that she just had its collar and was trying to get its collar back on while her dad called the numbers on it. The dog then decided my garage looked awesome and ran in. We got her collar back on and tried to keep her from running off again. My neighbor said he was on the 3rd call (dog had 3 diff tags) and each one was a dead end. Mostly because its Sunday afternoon. He said he wasn’t sure what to do since they already had 3 dogs. Since it was freezing and the dog was pretty wet, I said I’d deal with it and put her in my backyard. I got the kids inside and took off the dog’s collar myself and called the numbers (like I’d really have a diff outcome) but met the same black hole. I called Williamson county animal control thinking they’d come get her but someone from the general county office answered the phone and told me that animal control doesn’t get back until TUESDAY. I asked what the hell you’re supposed to do if you find a dog and he said either put it in your garage or let it go. I got a teensy bit indignant about that and immediately felt bad when I realized this guy was just answering phones and was not the ‘let the dog go’ policy maker. He was really nice and helpful and took down all the tag information and put it in their database in case anyone comes looking for her. He suggested calling animal control tomorrow just in case and said any vet’s office can scan her chip (she had a chip tag but wasn’t ‘enrolled’ so the HomeAgain people couldn’t help) to see if we can find out who she belongs to.
For now, she’s in my garage. I fed her, gave her a dentabone and some water. She’s HYPER but trained. She can sit on command (my dogs can’t). She’s at least 3 years old since there was a 2007 registration tag on her, but she still seems very puppy so I don’t think she’s much older than that. She’s 40-something pounds and strong. I couldn’t drag her from the garage to the back door very easily. She plays fetch and wags her tail and seems generally friendly. I posted all the info on my neighborhood’s message board but haven’t anything from anyone. I hope someone just doesn’t know she’s gone or else maybe they live farther away and therefore don’t read the Avery Ranch message board. Otherwise, you’re a shit if you know your dog ran off and you don’t care.

Anyhoo, that's the recap of my special, "romantic day". I hope you all had a day filled with good chocolate, better wine, real flowers and lots of hugs and kisses. Or maybe something better. Just sayin'.

House of no babies

2010-02-09T17:58:00.000-08:00

The kids are all grown up. *sniff*
Alby has moved out of her crib and into the bottom bunk of Delaney’s bunk beds. Actually I guess they are no longer Delaney’s. They are now the girls’ bunk beds. *sniff sniff*

Before I know it, I’ll be finding cigarettes hidden in their Hello Kitty backpacks and raunchy text messages from the neighborhood teenage boys on their cell phones.

Some milestones are cause for huge celebration and zero tears. Becoming potty trained immediately comes to mind. There is NOTHING to cry about when you no longer have to buy diapers. Congratulations to Miss Emily Douglas on mastering the art of using a toilet and big hugs to Josh and Michelle for no longer having to wipe anyone's butt other than their own.

Others are cool and special but a slight smack in the face to remind you that you can’t keep them babies forever and certain experiences will never be had again. I never got weepy over Delaney’s milestones. Probably because I knew we’d be going through them all again with baby number 2. When baby number 2 hits them however, and your baby-having days are over, its a teensy bit sad. I’ll never see my baby’s face peeping over the crib rail and hanging on and jumping like the proverbial monkey on the bed.

Alby is only 16 months old so I have no one to blame for this but myself. Actually I take that back, this is ALL Delaney’s fault. She was the one who wanted to start sleeping on the top bunk and have Alby sleep on the bottom. I think she got lonely after Shari and the kids moved out and wanted a roommate again. She was SO stoked to set up her new bed on top and was so proud when she mastered climbing up and down the ladder by herself. It was hard to say no to her. Plus Alby’s nursery is slated to be the new guest room. I know my parents will be happy to have an actual bed and a door that closes and to no longer have to sleep on my sofa or floor of the living room.

2 nights ago we tested the waters and put all of Alby’s lovies and bedtime buddies into her new bed. The blankets I made her. Her little stuffed jaguar from our trip to the Dallas Aquarium. Her purple Ugly doll. All of it carefully set up in her new BIG GIRL digs. I added the quilt I had made of Steve’s old t-shirts and pajama pants for good measure. I even stuffed her crib bumpers into the spaces between the mattress and the walls. The bunk bed is in the corner of the room and has a fully enclosed ‘foot-end’ of the bed. This only leaves one side open which I covered with a bed-rail to keep her from falling the 6 inches onto the floor. Its awesome and cozy and I know she’ll love sleeping in it. The first night was a fail though. Delaney requires the door to be left open but Alby always had hers closed. With no crib walls in her way, Alby kept coming out of the room and down the stairs and padded into the kitchen in her little footie jammies. It was cute the first 2 times. After that it was annoying and I put her back in her crib. Night 2 I got smart and borrowed a baby-gate from a friend. Now the door can be left open but the kids cannot escape. I was afraid she’d just howl at the gate and fall asleep on the floor but I got lucky. 30 seconds of howling at the gate before she climbed back in her bed and crashed out. She slept until 8 this morning. One full hour after Delaney woke up and called to be picked up over the gate.

For her nap, I shut the door and she slept for 2.5 hours this afternoon.

Goddamn I love Alby.

I put them to bed 50 minutes ago and so far so good. I’m declaring the experiment phase complete and have drafted Alby’s crib graduation diploma.

I’ll finish up their room this weekend while my parents are here (and therefore I have help) I’ll consolodate dressers and closets. I already hung up all the quilts my dear friend Loryn’s mom made for the girls up on the walls. Their room will be perfect.

It already looks pretty damn close with my two precious girls snoozing away. It sounded perfect too when Delaney was singing to Alby before they fell asleep.

I’m a lucky woman. Blessings have been counted and luck has been appreciated.

Also, the weather is calling for a good chance of sleet and snow for Thursday which ALWAYS makes me happy.

Its almost enough to get me over this friggin sinus infection that has laid me out for the past couple of days. I went to the doctor today and got some pricey antibiotics. I’m hoping for a full recovery before the Texas version of the sno-pacalypse.

Hugs to all our friends and family braving multiple feet of snow on the east coast. I’m trying to contain my jealousy. Its hard. I’ll settle for 40 and raining which is what we’ve had lately. Apologies to all my home-grown Texas (and California transplant) friends who are despising the cold weather this winter. You’ll get your revenge come April when it spikes back up to 100 degrees with no rain for 4 months.

douche of the day - Duncan Hunter

2010-02-04T19:23:00.000-08:00

I bet most of you don’t know who this douchebag is. Well I’m about to tell you. He is a United States congressman (bet you can’t guess which party) from California who was on npr the other day to offer his opinion on why we should not repeal ‘don’t ask don’t tell’.

First off, Congressman Duncan, I’d like to thank you for your years of service to our country. You served tours in both Iraq and Afghanistan and for that you have my respect and gratitude. Its people like you serving in our military that make safe for people like me to sleep at night without worrying my house will be bombed.

As an elected official however, you are an enormous douchebag. The FIRST POINT you make for your case is that repealing DADT will open up the alternative lifestyle floodgates and “hermaphrodites and transgenders” will be allowed in the military.

Now I’m not in the military. I can’t speak from personal experience but just as a HUNCH, I’m assuming the current DADT policy isn’t the big lock box that is keeping transgendered hermaphrodites from serving in our armed forces. And I REALLY don’t think their enlisting should be keeping you up at night, congressman.

Mr. Hunter’s main argument is that allowing gay servicemen into the military will be detrimental to the ‘cohesiveness’ that is so important for our troops serving on the front lines.

I agree, Mr. Hunter. Cohesiveness is important. Its very important. I can’t think of anything that would bind our troops together quite like knowing for sure that the soldier serving by your side is as crazy about vaginas as you are. No, wait. I can think of one thing. How about the fact that both of you have put your lives on the line for our country and are willing to risk your life for the safety and freedom of all Americans?

No, that can’t be it. Must just be about the vaginas.

I know if I was in combat, I sure as hell wouldn’t want someone in my unit to cover my ass and warn me about a roadside bomb or incoming insurgent with dynamite strapped to his belt unless I knew their internet porn search had the same keywords as mine.

Is now REALLY the time to be picky about now allowing people into the military based on sexual orientation? Last I checked, we had TWO (declared) wars going on and a whole shatload of other problems just waiting to hit the fan and require more U.S. military involvement.

I think my freedom, and the freedom of all Americans is worth not getting all high and mighty and sanctimonious about the private lives of those serving our nation. If you’re willing to sacrifice your LIFE to keep me and the rest of my country safe, you can fantasize about whoever you want in your tent in the desert a million miles away from your friends and family who miss you and want you returned home safe.

The Tim Tebow Super Bowl ad controversy

2010-02-02T19:10:00.000-08:00

There’s been a lot of press the past couple weeks about CBS’s plans to air a pro-life themed Super Bowl ad featuring the story of Tim Tebow. I’ll go ahead and put myself out there and state for the record that I am pro-choice. This does not make me pro-abortion. I don’t believe anyone should be forced to get an abortion who doesn’t want one. That’s not to say I’m not all for government mandated sterilization for certain folks (I’m looking at you, octomom). I just think for the most part that it is nobody’s damn business what you do with your body and until we reach the day where babies are gestated in tupperware containers, women are more than just incubators and no one has the right to tell them what they can and can’t do. All that said, I have no problem with a ‘choose life’ commercial airing during a football game (or any other program for that matter) I don’t find anything inherently offensive with the premise of that. I don’t personally feel its the right venue for a moral discussion but if they are comfortable having their ad sandwiched between a Budweiser spot and a talking gecko, that is their decision. Although I haven’t seen this particular commercial so I’m just going off of what CBS and the group who paid for the ad claims it consists of. The group happens to be Focus on the Family and their leader James Dobson DOES have a history of saying incredibly offensive stupid things a la Pat Robertson. From my limited understanding though, this commercial does not state that doctors who perform abortions should be killed or women who exercise their legal right to have an abortion be burned at the stake. From what I understand it is just one woman’s story of receiving the heart-wrenching news that something was wrong with her pregnancy that could result in the death of both her and her baby. Sadly, women are faced with that news everyday and I don’t envy the decision they have to make. She and her baby not only survived the odds but her son went on to be a very healthy successful athlete. Congratulations to you, Mrs. Tebow. Its worth noting however that Mrs. Tebow’s story could have gone the other way. I don’t think its inaccurate to state that she got lucky. Very lucky. Its not like the doctors made a mistake and misdiagnosed her placental abruption and she had no reason to choose to terminate her pregnancy. Its also worth stating that all of this occurred while she was in the Philippines where any and all abortions are illegal. That makes it a teensy bit hard to believe that she stood up for her unborn baby and refused an abortion that was pushed on her. Regardless of how truthful the whole backstory is, someone did beat the odds and someone had a happy ending. I don’t plan on boycotting the super bowl or CBS because they accepted $$$$$$$ from group XYZ to air their ad. Just because I have principles and convictions doesn’t mean I’m blinded by them. I would not equate this with CBS accepting $$$$$$$ from the ku klux klan and airing a commercial advocating the practices of cross-burnings and wearing white sheets. I understand television is a business. And so says the Once-ler - “business is business and business must grow”. CBS took a long hard look at who their super bowl watching demographic was and decided that not enough people would be offended by the ad and that Focus on the Family’s money was as good as anyone’s and therefore, the check was cashed.
They will be forced to pay the price however, should that ad not be quite as inspirational and non-offending as they claim. The Tebow’s are also opening themselves up for a hell of a lot of scrutiny and fact-checking by the rest of America who may not quite buy all details of their story. I hope that in the end, their message was worth it to them.

The other story floating around the blogosphere is that CBS DENIED a Super Bowl ad that was submitted by a gay online dating service. While on the surface this does appear to be discriminatory and lame, I really believe they again looked at the money, weighed the pros and cons and decided that the odds were not on their side. As far as I know, most of my gay friends aren’t overly outraged that this ad won’t be appearing during the Super Bowl. I don’t think most of them care one way or another about the Super Bowl. I don’t feel that ‘gay america’ is necessarily the biggest part of the Super Bowl audience. This may seem like I’m stereotyping but lets remember that sometimes, stereotypes exist for a reason. The same way you won’t see a lot of Tampax ads during MANswers’ on Spike network or Mensa ads during ‘Jersey Shore’ on MTV. Likewise, there’s not too many ‘go daddy’ ads on during Oprah. Its just good advertising to first and foremost take a look at who is watching the program and plan your ads accordingly.

Most sacred to me is the First Amendment. CBS has every right to air whatever commercials they want. We also have every right to decide if we no longer want to give CBS (by way of their other sponsors) our business. Its sort of the awesome thing about America. I am also fairly hard to offend. I’m sure there are a LOT of people out there who feel differently than I do. Again, best part about America. You can choose who you do and don’t want your hard-earned dollars to support, for whatever reasons you so chose. Just don’t kid yourself that a huge media conglomerate like CBS gives two shits about anything other than their bottom line. They would air a commercial for Asian-on-midget porn if that’s where they thought the money was. Just because they accepted FOF’s money doesn’t make them on their side.

Enjoy the Super Bowl for what its meant to be. An excuse to get together with your friends for a great football game with fun, creative, innovative (hopefully) commercials and a halftime show by The Who. Eat your nachos and drink your beer. Laugh at commercials featuring talking animals and Peyton Manning. Keep it light. Don’t get into a philosophical discussion about when exactly life begins and who’s rights outweigh who’s.

That’s what the Oscars are for.

I'm old

2010-02-01T20:40:00.000-08:00

I'm 31 years old today. Birthdays can officially suck it. Its hard enough getting old when you have a loved one coming home with flowers and a cake and perhaps something pretty and shiny to wear around your neck. They REALLY suck when your loved ones are 1 and 3 and steer the birthday conversation back to 'I want to go to Chuck E Cheese'. My conversation with Delaney today went like this.

me: Its Mommy's birthday today.
Delaney: Its your birthday??
me: yup
Delaney: My birthday is in August.
me: yes, your birthday is in August but MOMMY'S birthday is today.
Delaney: are we going to Chuck E Cheese?
me: no, grownups don't celebrate their birthdays at Chuck E Cheese.
Delaney: I'm 3 years old, Mommy! How old are you?
me: I'm 31
Delaney: That's a lot.

Sigh. That little bitch just called me old.
At this point, Delaney, realizing there was no trip to Chuck E Cheese on the horizon, lost interest in the conversation and asked for a box of raisins and left the room.
I've never been big on birthdays. I'm happy being allowed to indulge in the little things like sleeping in and picking where our take-out dinner is from. I didn't have a BAD day today by any means. Both kids are healthy and in relatively good moods. I took Alby to her speech therapy evaluation and was told that there's nothing we need to do until she's older (WOOT!). I swung by Taco Cabana afterwards and got some chips and queso. I had a little bit of wine and watched Hoarders with a good friend. That's a good day in Kathie-land.
Knowing what a bad day can consist of (kids falling off furniture and getting black eyes, kids throwing up all night or in public, the cable going out right before Hoarders comes on, etc), I hope everyone's birthdays are as status quo as mine. There's worse things out there than having a decent day.
Not that I don't wish I was young enough that my kid could COUNT to my age, but hey. Whateves.

Sacrifices

2010-01-28T21:05:00.000-08:00

When Steve and I were just starting our family, I was not exactly thinking about going back to work. In fact, I was trying to figure out just how many kids I’d have to have in order to NEVER go back. I was in love with being a stay at home mom. When Delaney was a baby, the thought of putting her in daycare and going off to work was almost too much to bear. I loved our time together during the day and looked forward to Steve coming home from work at night so we could have our ‘family’ time and then REALLY looked forward to Delaney going to bed so Steve and I could have our alone time.

Times change

I never thought I’d be dying to go back to work. I also never thought my current situation would be my reality. Stuck at home 24 hours a day with 2 small children with no one’s ‘coming home’ to look forward to.

Talk about things being too much to bear.

With each day that goes by I’m more and more aware of my inadequacies as a mom. I’m so overstretched and worn out both physically and emotionally that I’m not giving my kids the kind of attention they deserve. I honestly think that we would all be better off if we spent some time apart. That way, the time we did spend together would be happy, precious time instead of ‘I cannot take one more second of whining and toy throwing’ time.

The decision to go back to work after having children is a touchy one. I’m not the first person, nor the last to write down all the pros and cons and solicit the opinions of my peers. I’d also like to go o record and state that I am VERY aware at how incredibly lucky I am to have the choice. I know not everyone does. For every mom who can’t wait to get back to the corporate world, there are probably five who are crying because they have to drop their babies off at daycare and go to a job they hate because the mortgage has to be paid. No matter what your personal reasons are (and they are all very personal) Everyone will sooner or later have to deal with the attitudes and opinions of others. No matter what your decision is, to go back to work or to stay home, you will be met with interference on both sides of the fence.

“How can you pay someone else to raise your kids while you go off and work? Geez, that’s kind of selfish. Why’d you have kids in the first place if you were just going to ditch them at daycare”

“How can you NOT work? Aren’t you bored? Don’t you feel kind of worthless? I couldn’t stand being stuck at home without any intelligent interaction all day. I’d be worried my husband wouldn’t find me attractive anymore if I was just sponging off of him and laying around all day”

You can’t win. You have to do whatever is best for your family and what is best for YOUR family is not necessarily what is best for someone else’s family. What is best for a family is paid bills and happy parents and kids. Frankly, those ends justify whatever the means are. If it takes getting out of your house and spending time with adults to make you happy, then that will make you a better parent. If you can figure out a way to cut back on some stuff and still pay your electric bill on one income while happily clipping coupons and working out by running around your backyard instead of Lifetime Fitness, then THAT makes you a better parent.

Knowing all this, I still was not expecting the kind of feedback I got when I was grappling with the decision. And remember, we’re just playing with hypotheticals here. I’m not deciding whether to take some job that was offered to me. I’m still in the ‘should I start looking for a job‘ phase. More than one person told me it was a bad idea. That we only have such precious little time with our kids when they’re little and that we should enjoy it while we can. I doubt any of those people have lived through an endless string of days that blend together because there is no difference between days of the week when they are all the fucking same. I don’t know if its a weekday or a weekend b/c its all the same to me. I wake up to crying hungry kids who inherited their father’s a.m. dispositions and require milk and juice and cartoons and breakfast before they quit glaring at you. Then I have 12 more hours of diapers, food thrown on the floor, spilled lemonade, barking dogs, whining for fruit snacks, whining for Dora, whining b/c someone touched someone else’s toy, whining for a cookie, copy, paste, repeat all. Then before I know it, its 8pm, both kids are in bed and I realize I spent all day resenting them instead of appreciating them for the miracle they are. I feel guilty and sad and cheated every single day.

There has to be a better way to do this.

As a stay at home mom in the "before"-time (before Steve died) I always felt a teeeeensy bit guilty about it. Since I liked doing it so much, there was something indulgent about not having to get dressed until noon and cuddling with your baby on the floor watching sesame street. I always figured other people viewed us as lazy. That we were cheating the system by not having to work and mooch off our husbands while we took care of their spawn during the day. Then the husband comes home from work, spends 20 minutes with your kid and tells you what an amazing awesome person you are for sucking it up and devoting your time to them. High fives and handshakes all around!

When no one comes home, you don’t get the same feeling of satisfaction of a job well done. No one ever tells you good job. No one ever tells you thank you. Your kids are endless pits of need and don’t have the concept of gratitude at the ages of 1 and 3. Not that I don’t love them. I do. Very very much. But they don’t appreciate clean sheets or real maple syrup on their waffles. Frankly, they don’t give a shit. They’re kids. They won’t appreciate a damn thing you do until they grow up and have kids of their own.

So here I am looking for something more. Maybe I’ll find it by going back to work. Maybe I won’t. If I don’t, i’ll throw in the towel and hopefully appreciate the time I have with my kids that much more. At least until they’re both in school and I don’t have to pay for daycare anymore. Then I could probably work at Walmart and be satisfied.

Dell's response to my email

2010-01-26T14:31:00.001-08:00

I put my money where my mouth is and sent that email I posted to the HR rep at Dell. It made its way to the proper authorities ;).
To prove that I am fair and don't just throw people and worldwide corporations under the bus, here is the articulate and thoughtful apology letter I received.
*************************************************************************************
Dear Kathie,

I am the Director of Global HR Service Center. A member of my team was the HR Rep.

I am truly sorry for the situation that occurred. I also have been through some very difficult family situations I understand all too well what you described and could image how you felt. Again my most sincere apology.

I will work with my team on this. As a note, we will use this situation as an example of why we need to listen and understand the request and not just read off the script. I think it will make it very real for people and not just the managers lecturing them.

Thank you again for sending the note.
*************************************************************************************
Well done, Dell. :)

Dear Dell HR

2010-01-26T10:39:00.001-08:00

Dear Head of Dell HR,

While I can understand the value in training your HR staff to be as efficient as possible when fielding calls from its employees, it is important to not underestimate the importance of stressing that they remember to LISTEN to the person on the other line.
Earlier today I had a somewhat unpleasant experience on a phone call with a Dell HR representative. To condense the backstory, my husband was an employee of Dell for 9 years. He passed away from cancer on January 7th 2009. A few months after his passing, I moved to a new house which is in no way attached to his name. I didn’t think to update Dell with my new address since all the pay/401k issues had been long resolved. While compiling my paperwork for my 2009 tax return, I realized that Steve would have a 2009 W2 since he was an employee for the first 7 days of the calendar year, as well as the fact that he received a bonus sometime last spring. I contacted Steve’s former manager to see what I needed to do to get his W2 since I was unsure if it would be forwarded to my new address. He recommended I contact someone in payroll (which I did) and after resolving the W2 issue to the best of our ability, the employee in payroll suggested I contact HR to make sure DELL has the updated address in case anything should come up at anytime in the future that they need to contact me about. I called the HR line and the following is the transcript of what occurred:

Me: Hi, my name is Kathie Quinn and I’m calling regarding my husband Steven Quinn who was a Dell employee until January 7th of last year when he passed away from cancer. I was told by payroll to contact HR to give Dell my updated address in case there is anything else I need to receive from when Steve worked there.
HR Rep: May I have the badge number?
Me: I don’t have his badge number since I had to turn in his security badge and key card after he died. I DO have his social security number though.
HR Rep: Ma’am I’m sorry but you’re going to need to have your husband contact us directly. We can’t update any employees personal information from another party due to privacy concerns.
Me: You did not listen to a word I just said. Steve cannot call you himself because he is DEAD. I’m just calling to update the mailing address.
HR Rep: Please hold.
HR Rep: What is the new mailing address?

I myself have been guilty of selective listening. I’m sure your staff is trained to not release any personal information on any employee. I understand that. I’m sure all she heard was “I would like to update my husband’s address”. However, due to the sensitive nature of our situation, I can’t help but be irritated. The words ‘my husband died’ are hard enough to say once. No one should have to repeat that statement because the person on the other line was not listening.

From the day Steve got sick, I have been incredibly impressed with how Dell has treated him and our family. We received nothing but help and support and kindness from a corporation that doesn’t always have the greatest reputation in that regard. I was actually overwhelmed with how wonderful everyone who worked with Steve was to us. People I had never even met attended his memorial service and his manager Mike Molloy was outstanding with getting me the information I needed regarding matters such as Steve’s life insurance and 401k. I never once felt like a number no matter who was on the other line.

After today’s HR call however, I think you guys can do a little better with how you treat others over the phone.

My intention is not to get anyone in trouble. I want to make you aware of what could very well be a widespread issue in how reps are instructed to handle incoming calls. A few extra seconds of listening would have saved me from what turned out to be a tough morning.

Regards,
Kathie Quinn

Terra Burger - Where overpriced organic elitism meets the drive-thru

2010-01-24T12:15:00.000-08:00

I get it people. Organic is the shit. It tastes better. Its better for you. It was farmed with pride using no raw sewage irrigation or child labor.
However, I really just don’t get it.
I buy two things organic. Milk and Fuji apples. That’s it. Anything else with an ‘organic’ label on it in my kitchen is purely coincidence. Same goes for any labels that say ‘trans fat free’. I live in Austin, Texas and it is a crunchy, granola-lovin town. However its also an AFFLUENT crunchy, granola-lovin town. Think Asheboro, North Carolina or Greenwich Village. Our soccer moms drive the latest hybrid SUVs but also regularly run in marathons and tote around well-dressed kids who attend ‘progressive’ expensive preschools and have never seen the inside of a Wal-Mart.

Austin has been waiting for you, Terra Burger.

For those of you who don’t live here, Terra Burger is the latest non-widely franchised burger joint. Austin is suddenly loaded with them. I can’t even count the number of non-McDonalds-Burger King-Whataburger-Wendy’s-Jack-in-the-box burger establishments that have sprouted up in this city in the past year. Burger joints are the new coffee houses circa 1995. Some are decent and normal, even tasty. Some are ludicrous. I’m sorry, mom friends who love them some Terra, but this place falls in the latter category. I’d actually never considered going until yesterday when a friend of mine told me how much she disliked it. I know that sounds stupid but I was really intrigued and wanted to see for myself. To my knowledge, I’ve never had organic meat. Being a non-vegetarian who lives in America, I happen to really like cheeseburgers. Even ones universally regarded as crappy from the golden arches. The best burger I’ve ever had was made by Steve’s friend Dave. When we bought our first house (looooong ago) Dave and his wife Karen came over with a congratulatory house plant and we fired up the grill. Dave was in charge of putting the burgers together and to this day I have no idea WHAT he did to make them so awesome but I remember seeing something involving egg and salt. Whatever it was, it was hands-down the best burger and I ate 2 of them. I believe Steve ate 5.
On to Terra Burger.
First off, worst location ever. Its 18 inches from the 2nd busiest highway in Austin. But I guess when you blow all your cash on beef from cows who only eat the highest quality grain and grass, you gotta make compromises if you want your business plan to succeed. It DOES have a very nice playscape with a fence and gate to keep the little people from running onto the highway.
There was no wait at the drive-thru (awesomeness since it was 12:15 on a Sunday). I was surprised that they had more than just burgers on their menu too. We ordered the following:
1 Terra Burger with ketchup, mustard and pickles
1 regular order of sweet potato fries
1 regular organic Coke (I’ll get to that in a minute)
1 kids meal with 1/2 a grilled cheese sandwich, fries and an organic juicebox
For a grand total of $14.69. Ouch.

The kids meal - Score one for them though on the 1/2 a grilled cheese. I hate throwing food away and Delaney can’t finish a whole ‘anything’. I also liked the juice box selection. Both my kids get sick when they drink apple juice so I was stoked to see fruit punch (yes I know its still part apple) and grape juice. The grilled cheese was awesome. Buttery, toasted and stuffed with really good cheese. Delaney ate it with no complaints. She also polished off the bag of fries which were in a word, abysmal. Soggy and greasy. The paper bag was clear by the time she was done with them. I gave one to Alby who put it in her mouth and no joke, spit it out and started to cry. It should be noted that I fished a piece of dog food out of her mouth yesterday, so the child isn’t what you would label a picky eater. Kids meal - Semi-success.
The mom’s meal - My food was god awful. The sweet potato fries were worse than Delaney’s. They didn’t appear to be in any way ‘fried’. It was like they were dipped in oil and baked. This actually made them difficult to eat since they kind of fell apart in your hand. French fries - Fail.
The burger was worse. The bun was interesting and decent. Kind shiny and held its own against the meat. Probably not too difficult since the meat was dry and odd-tasting. Think re-heated McDonalds. Sorta grainy and mostly flavorless. Even the toppings tasted a little off. I guess thats what happens with organic, ketchup, organic mustard and organic pickles. Burger - Fail.
Onto the organic Coke. I’m not kidding. Its ORGANIC COKE. All this essentially means is that its Coke with sugar instead of corn syrup. It was awesome. Even better than Chick-fil-a coke which has 2x the syrup. Coke - Success.
All in all, I will probably go back. There’s not many places where Delaney will eat so I’ll suck it up and swing by the drive thru for her grilled cheese and funky fries meal. I’ll even order an organic Coke. Alby will cry. Until we head over to the WENDY’S which is right next door! Woo hoo, yummy fries!
I’m not telling anyone to stay away from this place. You may have a more refined palate than I do and will perhaps enjoy all the benefits organic meat has to offer. I have a friend who goes here all the time and really loves it. Just cash out your 401k and stuff it in your wallet before you go. I can make my peace with overpriced food. I’ll drop $9 on a cheesesteak, fries and soda at Texadelphia without batting an eye. Overpriced crappy food however is just douchey.

Happy Birthday

2010-01-21T21:21:00.000-08:00

Dear Steve,
In accordance with our tradition of celebrating on east coast time,
Happy 33rd Birthday. Wherever you are, I hope they have 25 cent buffalo wings, cheese fries with the awesome, bright orange, fake, liquid cheese sauce and chocolate cake with vanilla buttercream icing.
Make it a good one. I’ll try to do the same down here. No promises though.
Love,
K

The state of Nevada and the so-called sanctity of marriage

2010-01-17T21:38:00.000-08:00

This past weekend in Las Vegas, I was witness to many truly spectacular sights. The highlights being a tiny old Asian lady walking around Caesars Palace (at 2am) in a 1940s era pink satin evening gown, white straw easter hat, white fur coat and fuzzy pink slippers, at least 1200 20-something young ladies in dresses so short that you prayed to God that they not only had underwear on (which I know they probably didn’t) but were smart enough to know that they still shouldn’t sit down in those outfits, and the most beautiful wedding ceremony ever to be performed on the bright green astroturfed lawn of the Little White Wedding Chapel.

Two of my dear friends were married Saturday night (technically Sunday morning). This event took place under the cloak of darkness and secrecy after we were turned away from using the actual chapel. The reason being that my two friends are gay.
I had no idea that a city like Las Vegas had such a puritanical view of marriage. After all, nothing is quite so sanctimonious as a drive-through wedding chapel open 24 hours a day specializing in quickie “in your car” ceremonies to drunk celebrities and their hookers. Glory be to God.

I wasn’t so surprised that gay marriage wasn’t legally recognized in the state of Nevada. Only a couple of states are progressive enough to realize how absurd and unfair it is to dictate just who is allowed to marry who. I was surprised however that they would refuse to perform the ceremony all together. We asked the LOVELY gal at the chapel with the ill-fitting tuxedo shirt and bad weave if we could just have the ceremony done even if the ‘union’ wasn’t legally recognized. Since its not legally recognized in the state we live in anyway. She could not shake her head fast enough with her ‘Unh-uh’. Picture the head shift move and a ‘no you di’int’ finger wave to go along with it. She said the minister would not perform the ceremony and that no other chapel would either.

We decided to take matters into our own hands and perform the ceremony ourselves using their oh so holy grounds. After all, this chapel is parked right next to the Howard Johnson and across the street from a huge sign that simply says ‘STRIPPERS’. Praise be to Jesus.

We had not one but TWO ordained ministers in our seven person group. My beautiful friend Janette took on the sacred duty of marrying these two young men who are more in love than 99% of the people who drive through that chapel on their way to the late show of Pussycat Dolls. The ceremony was simple, sweet and perfect. I cried more than I did at my own wedding which took place two blocks away at another (slightly less trashy) chapel. We have dubbed Janette the Harriet Tubman of underground gay weddings. With Janette, even on such sacred holy ground as that of the Little White Wedding Chapel, you too can enter matrimonial bliss even if the bitch at the drive through window turns you away.

All in all, this was the best vacation I’ve had since Steve and I went to Europe the year before Delaney was born. My hotel was gorgeous and has spectacular room service. I’m actually less than 5 minutes away from eating my THIRD creme brulee with fresh berries in my jacuzzi tub. I wandered the inside of New York New York (where Steve and I stayed for our wedding) walked from MGM to the mother fucking STRATOSPHERE in one afternoon. Its deceivingly far away. I drank and gambled my heart out and had the time of my life.

Special thanks to Michael, Janette, Brian, Jeff, Craig and Alex for help making this the most special, wonderful weekend I’ve had in years. A VERY special congratulations to Brian and Jeff for tying the knot. I wish you two many years of happiness and adventure together.

In case I ever publish this blog or write a new story, I also picked up the perfect pseudonym. My new name will be Bonanzia Glitterus. In honor of the names of the little purple fish in the Goldfish slot machine game at the Sahara casino

Religion needs a regulatory oversight committee

2010-01-14T19:47:00.001-08:00

Keith Olbermann's commentary on Pat Robertson and his point that referring to him as 'Reverend' was laughable got me thinking. SURELY there's some sort of oath you have to take before you can be qualified to be a reverend. Something like the hippocratic oath that doctors have to take where they promise to do no harm. And how if they BREAK that oath and say kill someone or practice surgery in their garage then they lose their license and can no longer practice medicine.
There HAS to be the same standards applied to religious leaders. I think before you can qualify for tax-exempt status as the leader of a religious organization you have to take an oath promising to uphold the basic tenets of christianity (if that is the faith you have chosen) and lets say promise to not be a self-serving, holier than thou BIGOT who so callously explains away the suffering of millions of people as divine retribution for their so-called long standing history of evil deeds or pacts with Satan.
If you say something so offensive and horrible, you should be relieved of your post and stripped of your religious title.
Just sayin'. MISTER Robertson.
I would also love to hear your take on why my husband was chosen to suffer from cancer and why my children get to grow up without their father. Was it because Steve sold his soul to Satan a few years back for that doughnut? No, wait...that was Homer Simpson. Was it because Steve was Irish and there's maybe some Satan-pact his ancestors made back during the potato famine? Or maybe this was all my fault. I'm the one who is left suffering, so the egregious sin must have been committed by ME!!! I'll admit I tried to persuade the Devil to grant me the favor of seeing your smug ass stricken with that lizard gypsy curse like in Thinner, but he failed to hold up his end of the bargain and the deal was thus declared null and void.

Special shout outs to Keith Olbermann and Jon Stewart for saying what needed to be said on your respective programs. Thank you, gentlemen.

Douche of the day - Pat Robertson

2010-01-13T17:14:00.000-08:00

Dear Pat Robertson,
When I read the article today about your take on the immeasurable tragedy in Haiti and how it was the fault of the Haitians’ ancestors pact with the devil (and your quote ‘true story’ was priceless) I’m convinced more than ever that you are a despicable excuse for a human being. I’m sure the 2 million people suffering in Haiti (however many are left) can take comfort knowing that it wasn’t a random violent act of nature, but an omnipotent act of wrathful payback by a vengeful, angry God. Punishment for the slaves making a pact with the devil to gain freedom from the French.

Well done, Mr. Robertson. Also kudos to the black woman on your right who nodded along instead of punching you in the face during your broadcast on the CBN.

Good job juxtapositioning the poverty and hell of Haiti vs the so-called beautiful resort that is the Dominican Republic. I believe, the median income of citizens of D.R. is around $4000 a year. Ahh the prosperity of the believers. Also, Haiti is at least 80% christian. And we all KNOW you were just dying to say ‘well those dirty Haitians and their sinful voodoo brought this on themselves’. Not everyone in Haiti practices voodoo. Your thinly disguised rant on their ancestors didn’t fool me. I know you blame them.

Watch your back, San Francisco. We all know what’s coming next. As soon as your city is hit by a devastating earthquake, Pat Robertson will be right there with his rationalizing the disaster as an act of God against the evil sinners and their sodomy and marijuana.

Hey Pat. I spoke with Jesus and he has requested you no longer speak on his behalf. He’s sick and tired of hate-mongerers like yourself besmirching his name and message with ones of intolerance and irrationality.

As a Texan, I will be praying that our ancestors did not gain their freedom from Mexico through a pact with the devil. Although if they did, I’m sure Pat Robertson can’t wait for hurricane season to set us all straight.

My regards,
Kathie Quinn

that movie was fucking terrible.

2010-01-08T21:22:00.000-08:00

After receiving ‘complaints’ that my recent blog postings were making my friends cry at work, I’ve decided to take a leave of absence from the melodrama and write my first movie review. Ready?

If you have any desire to see the movie Daybreakers, stop reading now. I’m about to ruin it for you. I happen to love it when people tell me what happens in movies I have no desire to sit down and watch, so I’m extending the public service to you all.

Daybreakers was fucking terrible. I don’t get to the movies often. I have 2 kids, no husband and until recently, no babysitter. Tonight I took advantage of my new live-in friend and took in a movie with an old pal. Mistake number 1 was seeing Daybreakers at the Alamo Drafthouse. For those of you not local to Austin, Alamo is the badass movie joint that serves alcohol and REALLY good food. It really heightens the movie-going experience to be enjoying an order of fried pickles and a guinness. It backfires though when you watch movies as heinously gory and nasty as Daybreakers. Think Scanners but in HD. Nice. Lots of exploding bodies and (since, duh, its a vampire movie) flowing blood. Luckily we ordered our pickles as soon as we sat down and finished them before the movie started. My grilled 4-cheese sandwich was not so lucky.
The premise of Daybreakers was actually fairly original and interesting. Not too far in the future (maybe a decade from now) almost everyone is a vampire and humans are simply harvested for their blood. It looks just like the matrix where humans are just hanging in their pods being used for battery power. You still have some humans running around hiding from the vampires and some vampires who hate BEING vampires and sympathize with the humans but mostly its vampires killing humans and drinking human blood. With me so far? Essentially Ethan Hawke is the main character (vampire) working for the big bad vampire company and he working on the creation of a synthetic blood b/c the world is just about out of humans. It doesn’t take long for a vampire to mutate into some god awful bat-like creature when they don’t get enough human blood. Ethan Hawke however would rather find a CURE for being a vampire instead of just synthetic blood. The movie goes on very predictably and he gets involved with a band of humans who have a CURE for vampirism. One of them actually used to be a vampire and is now human. Here’s how he did it. He was in a car accident and flew through the windshield into the sun but not quite long enough to explode (as any self respecting vampire does in the sun) and falls into a pond and boom. No more vampire. Back to human. Of all the cures for being a vampire, this one is actually not TOO hard to believe and it works for me. The problem comes at the conclusion of the movie when its revealed that an even BETTER cure for vampirism is when a vampire drinks ANOTHER vampire’s blood, they turn back to human.
This is so fucking not believable. Which sounds really stupid since we’re talking about a movie about vampires in the future, but you know what I'm saying. You mean to tell me that in the 10 years that we’ve had vampires, there’s never been a case of a vampire drinking the blood of another vampire? If a vampire drinks their OWN blood, they mutate and go insane and turn into the half-vampire-half-bat things but if a vampire drinks ANOTHER vampire’s blood, they’re cured? REALLY. REALLY! No cases of vampires going fucking nuts with ravenous blood lust and attacking one of their fellow vampires? Really? No scientific experiments by society's best and brightest when their world was on the verge of collapse due to there being NO blood left anywhere, but a roving pair of humans and one vampire find TWO SEPARATE CURES IN THE SPAN OF 2 DAYS????
My ass.
The coolest part of the movie was the styling they did on the future. I’ll be dammed if it didn’t really look how the future would look if everyone was a vampire. They thought of every little detail. The ads on the street for teeth whitening (complete with fangs) The school zone signs that say ‘night’ instead of ‘day’. It gave the movie a very ‘real’ quality to it. I like when science fiction movies do that. Undercuts the ‘that would so never happen!’ factor.

The other super annoying thing was that Ethan Hawke’s character’s name is Edward. Good job, movie producers. Didn’t see a conflict there? Like there’s not enough of an orgy of vampire books/movies/shows out right now. Now we’re recycling generic vampire names. Originality fail.

Movie’s redeeming quality. Sam Neil is an excellent bad guy. He always is. If you disagree, netflix Event Horizon. Also, Ethan Hawke is fucking hot as both a vampire and a human. I’ve never liked him before, but he nailed his role. What little there was to nail, anyway.

There you go. Movie reviews by Kathie.

1 year

2010-01-06T20:47:00.000-08:00

1 year.
365 days.
Three hundred and sixy-five days.
That’s how long Steve has been gone.
For those of us keeping track, that’s 365 mornings of picking Alby up out of her crib.
365 nights of Delaney singing in the bathtub and wanting to read the Lorax and Where the Wild things Are.
365 nights of me falling asleep watching Futurama or Family Guy wishing he was just in the living room instead of so impossibly far away.
That’s a lot to miss.
Not just the big things like Alby’s first real smile and first steps and first birthday. Or Delaney’s finally graduating out of diapers or growing out of dragging her elmo doll everywhere. He missed the little things like the openings of both a Taco Bell and a McDonalds within a few miles of our house. (that one would have floored him with joy) He missed the Phillies going to the world series (no one needs to tell him they lost) He missed 2 rounds of snow flurries and 2 hail storms that destroyed our roof twice. He missed the passing of 815 celebrities. He missed the announcement of the third Toy Story movie. There’s still things that I see or hear every so often that give me little flashes of ‘omg I have to call Steve to tell him xyz’. I hate that. It brings me back to ground zero every time.

When Steve was in the hospital (before I knew he wasn’t coming home) I used to write him a little note every day on a post it and put it in his sock drawer. These notes were not ‘meaningful’ or ‘important’ in any way. They were just to have something to give him when he got home to show that I thought about him every second he was away. It all started when Delaney pulled apart the better part of an entire pad of post its she found in the desk drawer. Being colorful and sticky, she thoroughly enjoyed pulling the sheets off and piling them on the floor. Since I was distracted, I didn’t catch her doing this fun activity until it was too late. When I saw the pile post its, I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away, nor did I have the discipline to sit down and reassemble the pad. I halfhazardly stacked them up and stuck them in my nighttable drawer. Seeing an opportunity to put them to good use, I jotted down notes to my husband for him to read at a later date. When Steve died, I didn’t have the heart to stop writing him notes. I did this on and off for quite awhile after he died. I hope this isn’t a sign of mental illness. When we moved, and I emptied out all his drawers, I boxed up the notes, not sure what to do with them.

Dear Steve,
USC beat Penn State today. That’s officially twice USC has pissed us off. I think they should go on our list.

Dear Steve,
Your mom is pissing me off. I’m sorry for that.

Dear Steve,
I had no idea you had so many friends. They all came out for your party today. I wish you could have seen it.

Some days it feels like a lot longer than one year, other days not so much. This past week has been the hardest I’ve had since Steve died. 365 days ago I had a newborn to distract me and shock to dull the sadness. Lately all I’ve had is memories of him. Him letting Darby lick his face after using mouthwash in the morning. Him pulling out of the driveway and waving to us as we watched from the window. Him putting his Dell badge, keys, wallet and phone on the divider between the kitchen and the living room before walking to the bedroom to put pajama pants on. Him yelling ‘oh come ON’ at a football game not going his way. Him walking in the door with buffalo wings for dinner. Him pretending to be asleep when the dogs woke us up too early on a weekend morning so I would take them outside instead. Him singing the ‘stinky butt’ song to Delaney as he changed her diaper. Him wasting away before my eyes from a disease that we should have fucking cured by now.

Dear Steve,
Taco bell opened today. They have a dancing taco out front.

Dear Steve,
We had snow flurries in the middle of the night last night. I woke up Delaney, bundled her up and took her outside to see. I know how important snow is.

I still sit and wonder if we made the right decisions. If we should have tried harder or tried different doctors. If we would have said ‘no, we’re not comfortable just taking the tumor out without getting multiple opinions on treatment options’. I know I would be doing the same thing had we done everything differently.

Dear Steve,
Today was your 32nd birthday. I didn’t tell anyone but I made you a chocolate cake with vanilla frosting like always and Delaney and I ate it for dinner.

Dear Steve,
I found a sock and a pair of your underwear the dogs had buried under the bed. I’m not sure what to do with them so I put them under my pillow for now.

Dear Steve,
Delaney used the potty today. She also peed on the floor 4 times. I don’t think this is going to be easy.

Cancer still fucking sucks.

Dear Steve,
I miss you.

Merry Christmas to All...

2009-12-20T19:26:00.000-08:00

One year ago yesterday, Steve was admitted to the hospital with a staph infection. He never came home. That was really the beginning of the end of everything.

His life.

OUR life.

Like everything else monumental, it does not feel like its been a year. Not even close. No matter how many changes I have made to my life in the effort of achieving closure and moving on, some days it still just feels like he's at work. Or maybe in the bathroom. Or more likely taking a nap. We cope with his loss every single day.
This Christmas was going to be the hard one. Technically its not the first one we spent without him. We celebrated Christmas in January last year, but the shock and pain were still in the forefront of everyone's mind. We've had 12 months to mellow and adjust to the changes and THIS Christmas was going to be our test run of all Christmases to come. I wanted it to be happy and memorable but not because it was the FIRST ONE.

Be careful what you wish for. :)

Our new Christmas tradition is to do something totally weird and random. Last year it was ignoring December 25th and pretending Santa came in mid-January. I wanted to do something fun this year. I got what I wanted.

2 weeks ago, an old friend of mine and her 3 kids moved into my house. The details of what got them here aren't important. Suffice to say its not how she WANTED to be spending the holidays, but given no alternative, she caved to my offers of warm beds and multiple televisions and moved in.

Its been the best Christmas present I could have ever received. You don't realize just how lonely you are until your house is filled with people again. Young, happy laughing people. Her kids are amazing. They take ALL the pressure off. I no longer worry that Delaney and Alby are being ignored. They are spoiling the shit out of them in a way that I simply cannot. My afternoons have been filled with watching the kids play on the swings, color at the kitchen table and play 'daycare' with their baby dolls. Its awesome. I've been able to get caught up on laundry, wash my kitchen floor, cook and actually eat, and wrap all the Christmas presents. I put my kids to bed at night utterly exhausted out of their little minds. When the big kids are at school, Delaney dances in front of the window waiting for the bus to bring them home. If they ever spend the night away, she cries. Everytime they leave the house, she sobs that they aren't coming back. I'm truly screwed when they move out. I never thought that Steve being gone really affected Delaney that much, but seeing how happy she is with a house full of people makes me realize that she's been lonely too.

There's also a certain joy that comes in helping others. As much as I'm benefiting from them staying with us (and I REALLY am) I'm aware that we are really helping someone in their time of need. You hate when bad things happen to good people. You want to right the wrongs of the universe when you can. I got lucky in the fact that this "GOOD DEED" is actually effortless and helps me too.
My "Mom" friends came through yet again and have made sure that these 3 extra kids are going to have a kick ass Christmas that they probably wouldn't have otherwise had. Instead of being apprehensive about feeling sad this holiday, I cannot WAIT to see their faces Christmas morning when they run downstairs and see that Santa came.

When I tell people that "my friend and her 3 kids are staying with me for awhile" I get a mixed bag of reactions. More than one person has done the "holy crap, how are you going to manage that/where is everyone going to sleep?" thing. A handful though have gotten it right. The ones who responded with "Oh my GOD, that is so awesome for you to have someone else around to talk to and help out with the girls!". Like I said, I think I'M the one who is getting the most help out of this whole situation. I really hope they stick around awhile. Even if they no longer HAVE to.

The next 5 days are going to be a first for us. The last time I was this excited about Christmas was when we found out I was pregnant with Delaney on December 18th and decided to keep it a secret from our families until Christmas. We're getting the shit-end of the weather spectrum (sunny and 70, what the fuck is that about?) but I've pushed past it and am focusing on sharing some of our holiday traditions with our new extended family.

I hope all of your houses are filled with love and laughter this Christmas. I offer the following advice....Take the time to stare at your Christmas tree and remember the excitement of being a kid during the holidays. Don't ignore the adult in you though and make sure you stop by the liquor store and maybe decorate some gingerbread men in an inappropriate way. They sell black icing in a tube at the grocery store that is really good for this activity. Watch a Christmas Story and Its a Wonderful Life at least once. Listen on the radio station (the easy listening one that does xmas music nonstop between thanksgiving and new years) for the muppets version of the 12 days of Christmas, Bruce Springsteen's version of Santa Claus is Coming to Town and that song about the kid who wants a rhinoceros for Christmas. Turn it off if they play the dogs barking Jingle Bells. That shit is just annoying. Donate at least one toy to toys for tots or any other children's charity. I've seen first hand how happy they make kids who don't have much else. Display all the Christmas cards you get and enjoy them. Your house will look empty when you pack them up. Buy one meaningful ornament a year. Last year I got one on Christmas Eve in the hospital gift shop. It was a simple white angel that says 'believe' on it. I hung it on the tree we put up in Steve's hospital room. I decided to keep the tradition going and went back to the hospital last week for this year's ornament. It beats the shit out of Hallmark. Designate a driver and don't do anything stupid. Ignore your diet for the next week and eat all the candy and cookies you can get your hands on. Diet and exercise are January's only purpose.

I hope Santa brings you everything you want. There's no harm in believing in him even if its just for a few days.

And to all a good night.

-KQ

What it means to be truly thankful

2009-11-22T17:56:00.000-08:00

I spent last Thanksgiving in the ICU of University hospital in San Antonio. It was one of the days when I made the 2 hour trip to visit Steve. His surgery was 2 days prior, but he wasn't doing so hot, and they left him in ICU. I ate the mashed potatoes off of his cafeteria tray. He didn't touch any of the food and I declared everything else inedible. Due to the crazy strict policies of county hospital, visiting hours were kind of sketchy. I would drive 2 hours there, spend maybe 2 hours with Steve and then have to leave again. When I got back home, it was around 9pm. My family was hanging out taking care of (at the time) my 2 year old and my 8 week old. They had picked up mashed potatoes in a pouch, stuffing in a box, cranberry sauce in a can (the only good kind there is) and a rotisserie turkey breast from our grocery store. We hadn't planned on having Thanksgiving dinner since Steve was in the hospital but it was decided that we had to do SOMETHING to commemorate the day. I remember choking it down only because I was forced to eat it. I knew then, just how sick Steve was, but I still didn't think he was going to die. It just felt WRONG to be doing any sort of holiday recognizing at all.
One of the first meals I made for myself after everyone went back home after Steve died was what we now refer to as Lazy Thanksgiving Dinner. Mashed potatoes in a pouch, stuffing in a box, cranberry sauce in a can and a rotisserie turkey. Its one of my all time favorite things to eat. As wrong as it felt that day, now it feels like the perfect holiday meal any week of the year. Its also ready to eat in less than 10 minutes.
This year I'll be spending the holiday at my brother's house in Dallas. I'll spend this week visiting old friends and doing fun family crap with my girls. I've never been more excited for Thanksgiving week in my entire life. And that includes the week my freshman year in college when I not only didn't have any school, but didn't have to pick up a part-time job like I did over Christmas break. This week won't be the decadently lazy week like when I was 18, but it will be just the week I need to make up for the wreck of last year.
In spite of everything I've lost, I've never been this thankful in my entire life. My life hasn't turned out exactly the way I thought it was supposed to, but its not a huge pile of crap either. My kids are amazing and beautiful and healthy. I have a wonderful home that I love. When I wake up in the morning, I open all the blinds at the back of the house and look out over the water. Its beautiful.
My friends get me through every single day. No matter what it is that I need. I don't think I could ever explain just how thankful I am for them. Today I got a make-over and a load of laundry done (our washing machine died).
My family is unreal. I called my father 15 times in the span of 1 hour this afternoon. I was buying a new washer and dryer and no matter how many times I thought I understood all the details of appliance purchasing, I kept needing to ask another question. He answered the phone every single time. I would have pretended to not be home after the 3rd call.
As you gather around your living rooms (tv sets) and tables this week, please please please take a minute to really think about everything you're thankful for. It doesn't have to be what you consider big stuff. All stuff is big stuff. Be thankful that no one got food poisoning. Be thankful that no one was arrested. Be thankful that someone was sober enough to drive to the minimart at 3pm to get the cranberry sauce everyone forgot. Be thankful for all the health and happiness in your life. No matter what kind of year (or month or week or day) you've had. There is still a lot to be thankful for.
Happy Thanksgiving, friends.

P.S.
Recipe for Steve's favorite sandwich on earth
Day After Thanksgiving Sandwiches
2 pieces of white bread - toasted
dijon mustard
plate with leftover turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy - heat this in the microwave
cold cranberry sauce
spread mustard on bread (duh) use a lot of it though. This is a big sandwich and you need the mustard to stand up to it
Spread mashed potatoes on one piece of bread and stuffing on the other (acts as a good glue to hold the turkey and cranberry sauce in the middle) assemble remaining ingredients and cut in half and enjoy.

An open ended letter on grief and grieving

2009-11-08T05:43:00.000-08:00

I've said it before and I'll say it again. There is no one way to grieve. Anytime someone goes through a catastrophic event in their life, there is no right or wrong way to deal with the pain in the aftermath. I'm neither an expert nor educated in this field, but I can bet I have more life experience in the subject than many doctors do, so I feel I have the authority to state my opinion publicly. The public being the 50-some odd people who read this blog.
I knew this time of year was going to be hard. Its always a slap in the face to not only have to deal with losing someone you love, but doing so in the period that falls between Halloween and lets say Valentines day. I actually count myself lucky that I have a 'last thing'. The last thing we did as a family of 4 (Steve, Delaney, Alby and I) was go trick-or-treating. It was also the last time Steve walked more than the 5 steps between the bed and the bathroom. Its been a year. Halloween was last week and it was indeed hard. It was also wonderful. We walked the same route for trick-or-treating with a lot of the same folks. It was like walking back in time. I had to stop more than once while my eyes welled up and I had my little Steve moment. Then I moved on and took in the laughing and running and candy ecstacy that only little kids on halloween can bring out. As hard as it was, it was indeed a wonderful day. In the coming weeks, I will face the anniversary of Steve's doctor appt, him being admitted to the hospital in San Antonio, us receiving the cancer blow, his body falling apart, him coming home and being a bed-ridden invalid, no longer a doting father and husband, his final admission to the hospital and then his death. All of this occurs between the week of thanksgiving and 7 days after new years. I'm not really dreading it though b/c in the irony of the suckage of something horrible occurring this time of year, I have 2 fabulous distractions who will want to make construction paper turkeys and visit santa and decorate cookies and christmas trees. Its much more of a blessing than a curse.
Right after Steve died, I was on one of my many phone calls to customer support personnel to have all our life transferred over from his name to mine. Now I forget which company I was calling, but somehow the person on the other end of the line was someone just like me. Just 20 years later. When I explained our situation she paused and offered up a smidge of her story (I lost my husband 20 years ago when we were very young) and promised me that there will come a time when things DO start to look up and normal and you won't feel so awful anymore. That's when it hit me that I wasn't the first (nor sadly the last) person who would ever go through this nightmare. It sounds weird but it actually did offer a (small) comfort knowing that at 3 in the morning I wasn't the only person walking around my house trying not to wake up my babies while silently crying and touching everything Steve ever touched. Every single item in your house has significant meaning if you look hard enough. The silverware we shopped all day for and bought TOGETHER (the first co-purchase in our lives) His dirty socks tossed in the corner of the bedroom that you long ago gave up bitching about. Every picture hanging on the wall of you and him smiling posing in front of some significant geographic locale, or maybe just standing in your living room. Whatever it is you're doing alone in the middle of the night, take comfort knowing you're not the only person doing it.
There is not an hour that goes by where I don't think of Steve. The difference now is that I don't think about him in an angry or sad way. I just think of him. There's no way to not. He's everywhere. Everytime I look at Delaney I see him. Not just in her face but the way she's laying on the floor watching tv or (so sadly) trying to dance. Poor baby is all knees and elbows just like he was and she has zero sense of rhythm. I still get a pang of jealousy when I see a family walking around our neighborhood. Its not an ugly resentful feeling but I do recognize it as jealousy. I'm not sure when this one goes away.
I started to notice I was feeling better (for real feeling better not just telling people I was fine) when I noticed I was making new good memories. The first time you have FUN or genuinely laugh and have a moment of reflection that damn, today was a great day. Your pain and grief never totally disappear but they will someday be pushed out of the forefront and into the background. You notice more happy feelings than sad feelings. You realize its possible to celebrate a happy occassion without the person you so desperately want to be there. It all happens in time and there is no way to rush it. You do what works for you to get through the day or even just the next 10 minutes. I always whittled my 'units' down to 1 hour at a time. I never looked beyond functioning for 1 hour. It is what worked for me and may not be what works for you. You'll find the one thing that works and hold onto it like its a winning lottery ticket, or your husbands undershirt that still somehow smells like him. Then before you know it, its been a week, then a month, then 3 months, then 6 months and your life appears somewhat stable and normal and happy. It doesn't mean you no longer hurt or have any anger towards the gods for the shitty hand you were dealt, but that anger and hurt are no longer the only things you're holding onto.
There is nothing nothing NOTHING fair about someone dying before the age of 75. I have arbitrarily picked that age so please don't hold any contempt if you're 76 and don't feel you've lived a full life yet. Unfortunately it happens every single day. The people who are left to pick up the pieces after anyone dies are the ones who truly suffer. It doesn't matter whether the death was sudden or a long time coming. Whether someone died from cancer or a car accident. A stroke or a mass shooting on a military base. Your initial period of grieving may differ, but in the end you're left in the same place as everyone else. I always counted myself lucky that I had some time to digest what Steve's inevitable fate was going to be. The day he died was not my worst day. We were all so relieved he wasn't in pain anymore and his nightmare was finally over that January 7th was not my 'worst day'. My worst day was 3 weeks earlier when the doctor told me over the phone that Steve had a couple weeks to live and I had had NO idea. That for me was essentially the phone call being told my husband was gone. No matter how you get the news and what the circumstances are, everyone is left in the same place. Feeling scared, angry, unimaginably sad and alone. For anyone who has never gone through a catastrophic loss, take a moment to thank whoever for how lucky you are. It makes me happy knowing there are many of you out there.
Two days ago, one of my best friends lost her husband. It happened while I am out of town with no way to get back to her. Not that she'd let me cut my trip short b/c that is the kind of person she is. She was the person who was there for me in exactly the way I needed after Steve died. She was the one who showed up when everyone else went home. She would come over at night after putting her son to bed and bring wine and laughter and we'd sit and watch tv and talk. She also welcomed me into her family in the weeks and months following Steve's death. I actually spent several holidays at her house with her parents and in-laws and they never once made me feel like I didn't belong there. I also loved her husband. I was never fully comfortable around him because he was one of those utterly fabulous people. Smart and successful and funny and engaging. Just a genuinely pleasant person to have in the room. He did a lot of random helpful things for me without even trying. He's the reason we have affordable health insurance. I was lost on what to do about that and he gave me the information I needed. His father acted as our attorney on more than one occassion and helped us out of a jam with Steve's insurance company. He did so completely free of charge. I knew where my friend's husband's stand up attitude was from. He was raised that way. One of my favorite memories of him came right after Steve died. I was at their house doing whatever, and when we were packing up to leave I was tryin to juggle Delaney, 2 big diaper bags of crap, something we were borrowing for the baby, god knows what else, and of course the baby herself. Most husbands are helpful and sweet. They don't just sit back and watch the new widow struggle to the car. They'll help carry a bag and open the door. He was different. He didn't just grab the bags, he grabbed the baby. I've never had anyone pick up the baby willingly and pop her carseat in the backseat. I almost cried when he did this because it was such a perfect 'dad' thing to do. That was the day I learned that he wasn't just smart and successful and funny and pleasant but that he was also wonderful and loving and a fantantastic Dad. The world is a sorry sad place without him, but I'm grateful I was given the chance to know him.
For anyone out there who is hurting or sad. I wish I could take some of your pain and ball it up with my own so that you could feel a little better.
The death of someone you love more than air and sunlight isn't the end. Its just one of the things you will experience in your life. It may be the worst thing you ever go through. I hope it is. After living through something like that, you'll be amazed at things that no longer bother you. You've survied the worst and most horrible thing that can happen to a person. It puts everything else in perspective and you will find yourself appreciating other experiences in your life more than anyone who has never experienced a loss. Put in that perspective, you're suddenly not the unluckiest person in the world.
As I'm sitting here in central Pennsylvannia, I miss my friends who are actually my FAMILY. I love you and can't wait to see you soon.
Kathie

Dear Cancer,

2009-10-23T12:11:00.000-07:00

Its been awhile since we've talked so I just wanted to extend my most sincere 'fuuuuuuuuuck yooooooooooou'. Nice try on giving Delaney the flu so I wouldn't show up to the livestrong challenge tomorrow. FAIL! Bet you didn't know that I'm the kind of mom who would leave her 3 year old in the care of her grandparents while she joined thousands of other people in telling you to fuck off. Well now you do know. I may have missed the pre-race registration hoopla today (seriously, you can eat me for that one) but I'm not missing tomorrow. I've worked too hard and we've raised too much money to help annihilate your ass off the face of this planet. If I were in prison, I'd make a shiv and shank your ass. If I were a nuclear physicist, I'd build a bomb to blow you to a million pieces and feed you to those man-eating anteater things from Hannibal and then blow them up too. But I'm not. I'm a Mom. And a widow who was once a wife, so I'm going to fuck you up the only way I can.
By showing up tomorrow and telling you exactly what you can do.
Fuck off.
Hugs and kisses,
Kathie Quinn

You know how leaving your house 10 minutes later for work can tack on 50 minutes of driving time thanks to traffic...

2009-10-20T18:47:00.000-07:00

Well that is what happens when you take 2 days off from keeping up with housework around here. Except its exponentially worse. 2 weeks ago, I was in the hospital for less than 48 hours. I didn't get caught up on everything until TODAY! What the fuck is wrong with my time management skills? Its a good thing I'm not required to budget my time for a living. I'd be fired. Quickly.
By announcing my current status as caught up however, I've all but guaranteed someone will wake up hurling in the middle of the night. I have an actual reason for catching up now though. The Livestrong race is this weekend and I'll have 4 extra house guests who would probably appreciate vacuumed carpet (as there will be air mattresses on the floor) and cleaned sinks. I even combed through the floor and picked up every last microscopic plastic dinosaur. Those little fuckers hurt like hell to step on.

I also want to give a shout out to everyone who donated to Team F#@K Cancer. We've raised over $1700 for the Livestrong foundation. I'm honored to be racing with my teammates this weekend!

Even more honored to shove some pancakes in my pie-hole right after the race.

Did you know that you can throw up enough times in 10 hours to necessitate being hooked to an IV for 2 days just to get rehydrated?

2009-10-12T18:00:00.001-07:00

You can.
For those of you who aren't friends with me in the real world (or facebook) I had a rough week last week. Last Monday I had just finished my post-Hoarders house cleaning ritual when I started to feel barfy. Nothing too bad, just mildly iffy. I called a friend and told her I thought I was just tired and hot from cleaning the house and was going to go to bed. About 30 minutes later I started throwing up. The kind of throwing up that only I can accomplish. I did this every 10 minutes for 4 hours before realizing I needed to go to the E.R. I'd been wondering what the hell I'd do if the girls or I got violently ill in the middle of the night and had to go to the hospital. Now I know. First I called my parents who DIDN'T ANSWER THEIR PHONE! I wanted verification that I was indeed sick enough to seek medical treatment before calling around the neighborhood at that ungodly time of night. I called Jessica (friend from earlier conversation) who was so awesome, she was able to flag down 2 other friends to help us complete this arduous task. Jess's husband was out of town (of course) so we needed someone to watch my kids and someone to watch her kids so she could take me to the hospital. Thankfully I have badass friends who had no problem leaving their nice warm beds at 2am to come babysit. We picked the closest hospital and got lucky that the ER was empty. Within 15 minutes, I was hooked to an IV receiving fluids and nausea medicine. The doctor said I needed to be admitted, so a couple hours LATER, I was moved to my room where I remained for the next 36 hours. It took 4 bags of fluid and untold doses of zofran before I was deemed hydrated and released. My dad was cool enough to come up at 6am the morning post-barfing extravaganza and watch the girls while I recovered.
I almost never get sick. The last time I was sick was right before I got pregnant with Alby and also wound up in the hospital hooked to an IV after another marathon barfing session.
I learned a couple of valuable lessons. One, my friends were not bullshitting when they said I could call them day or night if I needed help. Two, a stomach virus is the most awesome way to drop 2 jean sizes in 4 days. I still don't have my appetite back.
Score one for me.

baby + chocolate cake + red icing = crime scene

2009-10-04T19:52:00.000-07:00

Note to everyone. Pick a different cake/icing combination for your child's 1st birthday cake. Even if it means going with white cake and icing when you'd rather eat chocolate. Better yet, get the chocolate cake for YOU to eat and let the baby smash up their own cake in acceptable frosting colors. Otherwise, your sweet little baby looks like an extra on CSI.
Alby turned 1 year old yesterday. It was hard. Not because most people hate realizing their babies are growing up and time goes by so fast and blah blah blah. I actually cannot wait until she's a few years older and no longer cries when placed on the floor. It was hard because I'm once again realizing how screwed over she is. I know second babies don't usually get the fanfare that first babies get. I made Delaney's cake from scratch and put a lot of thought and effort into every frosted fishie on it (the girl was into fish). Alby got a cake from HEB. Delaney had 40 birthday guests. Alby had 5. I've decided to compensate by letting Alby get away with murder when she's older.

Hoarders

2009-09-21T20:23:00.001-07:00

I fucking love this show.
Its the most addictive thing on television. It makes you feel normal the same way walking around the mall in Corpus Christi makes my mom feel thin. (which she already is, but sometimes its nice to have visual validation). I've seen every episode of this show and I've made some observations.
1. A&E is doing a shit job of actually helping these people. Seriously. A piss poor job. At the end of the episode, they display a little blurb about what has happened in the months since the show was shot and so far I think I've only seen 2 people who actually got their shit together and went on to lead normal lives.
2. The 'hoarders' can be split into two groups. Group A is comprised of people who are legitimately mentally ill. The poor kid living with his alcoholic father and wanting desperately to be normal but suffered from panic attacks (he was actually one of the most normal likeable people on any episode). The woman who refused to let the trash people haul away a fridge containing nothing but 6 year old eggs and rotting meat. The crazy cat lady with 70-something dead cat carcasses in her garage. The angry woman who looked her grown daughter in the eyes and told her to her FACE that she was picking the house full of garbage over her and her grandkids. Then there's group B. The people who need to be hauled onto Oprah so she can slap the shit out of them. The suburban housewife in the very respectable looking house who LOST CUSTODY OF HER FUCKING KIDS because she accumulated what can only be estimated as 25,000 cubic feet of CRAP. Well, half crap, half trash. When the crew hired to clean out your shit has to use snow shovels to get through waist high piles of trash and rat excrement and you're sitting on the stairs bitching about how you just hope they aren't throwing away anything that you want to keep, its time for your husband to drag your ass to Chicago and sit you down in front of Miss Winfrey for a come to Jesus meeting. Her house was actually one of the ones they got all cleaned out and downgraded from a biohazard to an acceptable domicile for human beings but thankfully the state still didn't give her kids back. Her husband finally wised up and filed for divorce so he could regain custody. It should be noted that the ONLY reason her house was cleaned out was because she finally walked out "not able to handle the stress anymore" and the cleaning crew boxed up everything and cloroxed the ever living shit out of her kitchen. Usually the hoarder doesn't take more than 10 steps away from their beloved piles of crap and not much is accomplished in the TWO DAYS A&E so wisely allotted to cure these people of their disorders. Seriously A&E? TWO DAYS? You think pairing up a sick person with a therapist they've never met and a cleaning crew from 1-800-got-junk is going to fix them? The only person on the show worth anything is the legitimate doctor from the institute of living they bring in to try and give these people the wake up call they so desperately need. He doesn't just 'hug it out' with the guy holding onto the book of tax laws from 1988. He gets in their face and makes sure they realize they have a problem but understands it can't be fixed if they don't want it to be fixed. So far from what I've seen, the majority of these people don't want their problems fixed. I've also learned that for some people, losing custody of your kids isn't much of a wake up call.
That said, I still love the show and it keeps me cleaning my kitchen and putting the toys where they belong and bagging up stuff we don't use to be taken to goodwill.

eh

2009-09-03T18:38:00.001-07:00

I haven't posted much lately b/c I haven't had anything to say. Other than my usual 'pissed off at what I see on tv' rants that is. I had a good one going on having about enough of hollywood/music industry spawn being all that is left in the media but I couldn't really get it off the ground. Nothing like finding out a new artist who you dug and reaffirmed your faith in the system (that people truly talented can make it) is really the child of someone who was already in the industry.
I've also been too focused on what I've come to refer to as my 'weirdness'.
Context:
I've never been an excessively neat or orderly person. I'm not filthy or anything. I prefer when things are clean and historically have not been one to leave heaps of dirty dishes in the sink or an overflowing trash bag in the trash can. That said, I could happily leave laundry in the dryer for a week or clean dishes in the dishwasher for up to one month. Lately though, I've found myself becoming a little odd around the house. I've been chalking it up to 'well if I don't stay on top of things, they'll pile up too much and then it will be too hard to catch up' syndrome. This however, is a lie. I didn't realize it until today when I was half watching the news and half watching Alby and Delaney pull every dvd off the dvd rack. Since I was only half-paying attention to what was on tv, I didn't immediately put it together when I stood up and started cleaning out my pantry in tears. It wasn't until the job was done (90 minutes and 2 kid bedtimes later) that I realized what happened. What was on tv was NBC Nightly News and they were talking about the upcoming flu season.
I'm preparing for an emergency. I'm doing it all the time. Its why I can't leave any dirty clothes in the hampers or toys on the floor. I get itchy when there's more than 2 dirty bottles on the counter (like I'm going to run out since we have about 15 total). For some reason I'm expecting either a natural disaster or sudden death in the family. Most probably my own. I'm in a state of constant preparedness in case someone else has to step in and take over my role. There's always a full pack of diapers organized in Alby's changing table. There's no crap left on dressers or floors. The pantry is full of a week's worth of baby food and a month's worth of kid snacks and formula. Its absurd. Now some of you live this way all the time. You guys are the people who don't leave your house unless everything is put away and all the windows and doors have been checked. You hate clutter and mess and dirt, so you never let things get out of hand and every evening as soon as your kids are in bed, you take care of the last odds and ends of mess. There's a difference between us. I used to leave coffee in the coffee pot for weeks at a time. Today I alphabetized my kid's dvd collection in case my brother has to come take over for me. Because you know, otherwise he couldn't find Delaney's copy of The Incredibles.
I can only assume this is some sort of manifistation of a post traumatic stress disorder from Steve leaving the house for a doctor's appointment and never coming home. Or I've just gone fucking crazy from play-doh fumes. Either way, my house is tidy and organized and clean. The laundry is done, folded and put away. The dishes are washed. And The Incredibles is on the bottom shelf of the dvd rack in the Disney section in between Imagination Movers and the Lion King.

Why is it still 102 degrees outside?

2009-08-22T07:47:00.000-07:00

I'm SO OVER SUMMER. Me and everyone else who lives south of Kansas probably. Its been the most brutal summer on record. In the past 3 months, it has rained twice. That is not hyperbole. Its the f'n truth. And they weren't nice cool dark rainy days either. Just an hour or so of clouds and rain followed by scorching sun and heat. The first time it rained was right after we moved in. So around the end of June. It was actually comfortable most of the day but when the clouds cleared late afternoon, it still hit 91. The last time it rained was the day after my last post. It POURED in the morning for an hour and then was hot and sunny. That's it. The rest of the past THREE MONTHS have been horrible. Its over 100 every single day. We just hit day 61. For the rest of the days for the past 90 days or so, its been at least 97. I FUCKING HATE HOT WEATHER. Usually I'm ok with it in the summer since its supposed to be hot in the summer and its hot everywhere. This year has been ridiculous though. I know we've got a good 70 days left of it too before it gets comfortable enough to go outside or put the kids in the car without getting all sweaty and wondering why I bothered showering in the morning.
You may wonder where I'm going with this...
Target put out their halloween outfits last week. For those of you who aren't in the know, (meaning everyone who doesn't have a little kid) every year, Target has the f'n cutest halloween pants and tops. Yes, the girls' ones are cuter, but they have boy ones too. I learned 2 years ago, to snag the pants and top I want early or else you miss out. Yes, gap has halloween outfits too but the target ones are $5. I save the gap for valentines day. For some reason, they are the offical retailer of kid's valentines day clothes. Last year's target outfit had candy corn on the pants. I about died. I put Delaney in them every 3 days or so for the entire month of October. They do the same thing at Christmas. Every little girl between the ages of 1 and 5 rocks the target holiday outfits. They are comfy, adorable and seem to fit everyone. Did I mention they cost the same price as a happy meal? I picked up matching ones for the girls (barf) and Delaney's winter wardrobe yesterday during tax free weekend. I also went through all of Delaney's old clothes which are now property of Alby and organized everything in her dresser so she's set until November. Then I came downstairs and saw that it was already 90 outside and wanted to cry.
My fun fall fantasy morning has been effectively ruined and I'm off to sulk until winter comes. Because we don't get fall in Texas. One day its 92, and the next its 55. Usually happens in December sometime. Unless one of my friends schedules an outdoor birthday party thinking it will still be super warm.

I'm leeeeeeavin' on a jet plane...

2009-07-29T18:50:00.000-07:00

My lists are made.
My bags are packed. (relatively so)
My phone, ipod, dvd player and camera are charged.
My boarding passes are printed.

My conscience is clear.
I know I'm doing the right thing. If this isn't where he wants to be, he should have mentioned his request for a final resting place in the 7 years we were together. Since it never came up, I made the decision and I feel its the right one.
Its meaningful. Its beautiful
And its perfect.

Wish me luck.

-K

p.s. If my plane crashes or I get run over by a taxi walking into the airport, please scatter my ashes up at Mt. Nittany with Steve. We will forever enjoy days in July where its 72 degrees.

You know who's a total fuck..

2009-07-22T19:28:00.000-07:00

These fucking morons:
http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/07/22/wisconsin.book.row/index.html?iref=newssearch

Its time for a good ol' fashioned book burning, ya'll! Round up all the evil literature that contains anything a group of eldery residents in a midwestern town find offensive and add it to the pyre! Anything that keeps them from having to read, I guess. These are the kind of people who keep two by fours in their garage next to a can of gasoline and their klan uniforms. And here I thought this kind of moronic display of ignorance only occurred in my part of the country. You know the part. Save for Utah and South Dakota the part that exists mostly below the borders of northern Oklahoma. Not to stereotype, but southerners do have a tendency to love a book burning.

This is the best part...

"Ginny Maziarka, 49, said the books in the section of the library aimed at children aged 12 to 18 included homosexual and heterosexual content she thought was inappropriate for youths.
She and her husband also asked the library to obtain books about homosexuality that affirmed heterosexuality, such as titles written by "ex-gays," Maziarka said.
"All the books in the young-adult zone that deal with homosexuality are gay-affirming. That's not balance," she said.""

Ex-gays? Are those like gay kids who got sent to straight camp and then penned memoirs over how reading the books in the young adult section of their local library made them turn their back on their christian lifestyles and head straight for the local gay bar? What the holy fuck is wrong with these people?????
Don't get me started on the old guy who actually requested the books to be burned. His quote:
"I don't sit on the fence when I do these things. When I make a decision to speak up on something, I go for it."
I'm sure many members of lynch mobs felt the same way. I suggest you watch your back; gays, lesbians, anyone from the continents of africa, asia, south america, italians, democrats, librarians, college graduates and literate americans. The eldery population of West Bend, Wisconsin has their eyes on you...

Fuck you, to the following

2009-07-20T19:22:00.000-07:00

I've been busy and a touch moody lately so here is a couple weeks worth of fuck yous.
Jon Gosselin for being such an enormous douchebag. His new Ed Hardy uniform suits him well. I actually have begun feeling sorry for his shrew of a wife who may have deserved for her husband to file for divorce but didn't deserve his post-divorce filing ass parading around the carribbean with her plastic surgeon's 22 year old spawn.
The trailer for The Time Traveler's Wife. Seriously. Haven't I been through enough lately to not have to watch Rachel McAdams cry over losing Eric Bana over and over again? Not that I wouldn't cry too. He's damn beautiful.
All the rainstorms that I can see in the distance from my backporch but never make it to my house.
K.C.'s cell phone company for treating her like total shit and giving her the run around. WTF? I guess I was mistakenly under the impression that living with cancer might grant you SOME sort of free pass from having to deal with that sort of unnecessary bullshit.
AT&T for calling me every fucking day asking me to switch back after I canceled them because they couldn't offer me A. DSL and B. U-verse and C. keeping my own phone number. Everytime I ask if any of the above has changed and they always say no. Why on earth would I change my mind then, dumbasses?
Every episode of Grey's Anatomy that deals with kids dying or someone having cancer. Enough already. Give us more of the patients who suffer from the constant orgasm 'disease'. Ungrateful fuckers.
KFC for making me wait 35 minutes for fried chicken only to finally come clean and admit they didn't have any more chicken strips. Delaney ate mac and cheese and a biscuit for dinner that night b/c of those morons. (It was already after 7 by the time I got home from dealing with that) Fuck them twice for only sending me a $5 coupon for my trouble.
All the spiders and scorpions. Literally. Every last one. Especially the one the size of a mouse that was in my driveway. Although I do appreciate the fact that it was dead. I would have appreciated it more if it could have died across the street where I didn't have to sweep it out of the way before Delaney could pick it up.
Radiohead for writing a song so beautiful that I cry every time I hear it. And not just because it reminds me so much of Steve.
The universe for putting my friend Marsha through any pain. She's been through enough, thank you.
The dishes in my sink. Nothing personal. I just don't feel like doing them.

I hope I'm less moody when I get back from my Pennsylvania trip in a few weeks. Unless I get stopped at security b/c TSA thinks the box containing Steve is a bomb. Because it actually does look like what I think one would look like in an x-ray machine. I'm going to make a nifty wrapper for the box out of his favorite koozie that has the half-naked women's asses on it. The one he always gave my dad a beer in when he was in town. Although my dad may be bummed to see it go. I want Steve to travel in style. :)

The crackpot doctors on the Today show can fuck off.

2009-07-09T18:55:00.001-07:00

Middle-aged America needs to get a fucking grip. They need to get the fuck off of teenaged-Amercia's collective back. I caught a horrendous piece on the today show this morning about sleep. The focus turned mainly slanted towards how teenagers sleep habits are ruining their futures. To anyone who finds this as 'news' I pity you. The "doctor" was flipping out over how DANGEROUS and TERRIBLE it is for today's teenagers to engage in such horrific activities as "watching tv in their bedrooms before bed" and "drinking caffeine in the afternoon". She literally pleaded with parents to search their kids cars to make sure there were no warning signs of such DANGEROUS activities. That was actually the sentence when I started paying attention. I saw the warning sign items on the table behind her and thought for sure she was talking about drugs or guns, but I shit you not. It was a 20oz bottle of pepsi and a box of milk duds. 2 things. First...kids dont eat milk duds. This is not 1967. Kids today have much better candy. The Today show needs to fire the intern who placed that candy there as what surely must have been an inside joke. The only thing less appropriate would have been a roll of necco wafers or some black licorice stolen from your great-grandfather's house. Second...If the biggest fear keeping you awake at night is finding a bottle of soda and a box of candy in your kids car, you deserve a wake up call in the form of a vial of crack cocaine and a positive pregnancy test in the backseat of your teenagers corolla. Perhaps a recently fired gun with some bloody fingerprints on it would do the trick too. No wonder recent college grads are showing up at job interviews with their PARENTS. Dr. Nancy Snyderman has tapped into the previously un-exploited fears of teenage caffeine intake and has turned an entire generation of parents into a big hand-wringing mess who have no idea what real parental fear is. Those parents need to spend 5 minutes in the living room of a parent of a high schooler in detroit. Or insert any other number of cities here. The parent who is worried their kid won't come home at all. Not that he'll come home post-20oz pepsi and then shockingly head upstairs to his bedroom and watch tv before going to bed. Dumbasses.

We're in

2009-07-09T18:51:00.000-07:00

The closing went smoothly. The move went smoothly. The painting, not so much, but its DONE and we're finally unpacking. The house is still one big baby death trap, so my parents have been here helping with the girls while I try to get the place unpacked and baby-proofed. Alby pulls up on EVERYTHING, so it makes it kind of hard. You literally have to watch her every second. Delaney wasn't nearly this curious. She was always a rather lazy baby and I loved that about her. I've been without a computer for two weeks. Its nice to sit in front of one again. I've missed a lot lately and I'm sure I'll have some commentary on our country's current state of affairs once I catch up.

Prayer for the moving

2009-06-24T19:24:00.000-07:00

Dear God,
Please make sure nothing gets shot all to hell tomorrow. We are closing on our current house at 11 and the new house at noon. I would really REALLY love to not be surprised tomorrow. For once. No offense. But, seriously. Enough of the horrible surprises. Please remind the buyers to remember all their paperwork and documentation and money. Please remind ME to bring all MY paperwork and documentation and money. Please don't let my bank get robbed in the morning before I pick up my cashiers check. Please make sure the girls are good for my mom when I'm gone at the closing so I don't have anything additional to worry about other than these two houses. Please don't leave any more than the 6 current dead scorpions in the new house. Please convince Joe to pick them up and throw them out for me so I don't have to do it. Please don't leave any dead animals in the garage or attic. Please protect our new house from lightning strikes, fires, floods, termites and jehovah's witnesses. Please make sure babies r us has a baby gate that can be installed at the top of the stairs in stock. Please keep Delaney from pushing Alby down the stairs when I'm not looking. Please don't let my new neighbors be total douchebags. A good looking single dad would be acceptable too. Please give me the strength to say goodbye to this house and all the memories I'm leaving in it. Please make sure the Kempers are as happy here as we were. I should hate them for messing up this whole closing, but I don't. I want them to be happy in their new home.
Also please make sure I don't accidentally leave Steve in the closet. It felt wrong packing him in a box for the movers to take so I'm taking him in the car.

Oh yeah and please smite AT&T for telling me that not only could I not get U-Verse in my new house but that I couldn't get DSL or keep my phone number either. They are morons.

fuck you, netflix

2009-06-19T21:30:00.001-07:00

For sneaking in some crappy made for tv bbc version of 'the other boleyn girl' when I was adding movies to my queue that were in no way related to anything that would be aired on bbc. I was very much looking forward to my evening with the hollywood-softcore-porn-eric bana movie I thought had arrived in my mailbox.

Lucky for me, fight club was on spiketv. Because all my dvds are packed since I thought I was moving TWO WEEKS AGO.

I'm still here. I still know nothing about the move (or lack thereof). I forgot this weekend was father's day. Guess we have that hurdle to look forward to.

I gots nothing

2009-06-18T18:30:00.000-07:00

No news yet. We don't know if the sellers are going to grant the extension or not. I hope like hell they do. We looked at 2 other houses today just to get a head start in case they kick us to the curb.
They sucked.
One needed 2000 square feet of new carpet. Plus new shower doors. And a sprinkler system. And new sod. The other needed an exorcism to rid it of the heinous black lacquer 80s furniture and zebra print motif. (and new floors and a sprinkler system and shower doors) They had it decked to the nines with the ugliest stuff your eyeballs have ever seen. It burns into your head. My realtors mom said out loud 'I wonder if she's a decorator' I told her I sure as hell hoped not. I am not joking. Every square inch of that house was covered in animal print or circa 1985 miami style furniture. I can look past people's ugly shit. If they would take a 15k lower offer I could fix the inside and put in sprinklers. That's a lot of work though. And I don't know what priests charge for exorcisms.

Supposedly my buyers are still buying this house. I can't help but not believe that though. I'll let everyone know when I hear anything. I'm tired of waiting.

On a side note, I tried to assemble the 'easy pop-up canopy' we got at Academy to put some shade over the baby pool. The picture on the box of the thing in its folded position looked just like Alby's pack n play. I figured it'd be perfect. I tried putting it up this afternoon. I opened the directions and you need TWO FUCKING PEOPLE to do it. It even had a picture of two dudes setting it up. Easy my ass.

I hired someone to come rake the yard tomorrow morning. I'll hit him up to help me pop the thing in place so I can fill up a baby pool and create our own little toddler cabana for the kiddos. Covered by 100% sun protection giving canvas. My kids are half Steve. They'll catch fire in direct sunlight.

Fuck Moving

2009-06-16T11:37:00.001-07:00

I can't remember who I've told what to and when so this blog is back to a means of informing people of our progress (or lack thereof)

We were supposed to close on both houses last Tuesday. The weekend before, we got an email from my buyer's realtor stating that they were having issues with their bank and we would be delayed. At that point they claimed we would be closing on the 15th or the 17th. As the days went by we got more and more information on what was really going on. Apparently our buyers didn't turn in their stuff on time and it wasn't the banks fault. They were just now getting to underwriting which would take several days and we didnt even know if they were approved.

The seller for my new house got a back up offer. A full cash back up offer. They said if we didn't hear by last monday, they were sending a cancellation over. Last FRIDAY we got word from my buyers bank that they were finally approved. All they had to do was turn in some documents and meet the usual last minute conditions and we'd hear monday when our closing date was. My sellers of the new house gave us until this coming Thursday to close, otherwise the deal is off and they are giving the house to their new buyers.

Following me?

We didn't get a close date yesterday. The buyers bank was waiting on my buyers to turn in one last thing that their realtor claims they turned in at the end of the day. So far our update today is that the title company is verifying they have all the docs. Its Tuesday. We have to close tomorrow (not likely) or Thursday (slightly more likely but still not what I'd call LIKELY)

If I lose the new house, I start from scratch. I have to get prequalified again and kiss my awesome interest rate goodbye since rates shot up a full point in the past month. I'm not sure what to do. I have a couple options I guess. I'm taking votes.

Scenario A.
If my buyers can still buy the house but not until after my Thursday deadline, do I

A. sell it to them anyway, put all my possessions in storage and immediately start looking for another new house, albeit a smaller cheaper one since rates went up and I can't afford as badass of a new house.

B. Say FUCK YOU to my buyers and relist my house out of spite and see if someone else is interested? - This option sounds petty but it actually makes sense in the fact that I wouldn't have to move twice or rush to find another house suitable. I'd wait til we were under contract with new buyers (should we get new buyers)

C. Say FUCK YOU to my buyers and just take it as a sign from god to stay put. This option sucks in that I really do want to move. I want to move on. Plus my house is 99% packed. Unpacking it is not something I want to think about.

Scenario B
My buyers fall out at the last minute and can't buy the house period.

A. Relist it

B. take it off the market and stay put.

Cast your ballots now.

I love my kids

2009-06-13T07:55:00.001-07:00

but its fucking awesome having them stay with their grandparents for a few days while I pack.

I miss them, but I don't think the feeling is reciprocated. When I called this morning, my mom asked Delaney if she wanted to talk to me. I heard a shrill 3 year old voice in the background yell 'no way'.

I'm packing all your toys up right now, you little booger.

my house is the poltergeist house

2009-06-12T15:48:00.000-07:00

Michael and I figured it out. My house is evil and haunted and hates me but won't let me leave. Its like the house in poltergeist. Observe photo on right.

It will collapse in on itself with me inside it and our neighbors will come home to a big empty lot where my house once stood. Maybe for good measure, the t.v. will be left on the sidewalk.
If you don't live in Austin, let me inform you that we got hit with a MASSIVE hail/tornado storm yesterday. Hail the size of baseballs. I was out of town waiting for word on the sale of our house (its not going well). I'm NEVER here when the massive storms hit. When we lost out kitchen window in a hail storm last year, I was in San Antonio for Steve's surgery. My friends called me last night to let me know there was substantial damage in our hood and to see if I wanted them to check out our place. Sure enough, we had a hole in our window. The hole is the size of my fucking head. Its HUGE. I was sure I was going to come home to extensive water damage and maybe a hole in the roof, but somehow we got REALLY lucky. Just a broken window. Few shards of glass. No biggie. Not even any water. Thank you, jesus.
I was miraculously able to get the window lined up to be repaired mid week.
Just when I think that one freaking thing can't go wrong with the deal on my house we hear that the sellers of my new house got a back up offer. Not only a back up offer but a full price cash offer. Mother Fuckers. Who has that kind of cash just lying around waiting to spring up at the last minute to attempt to screw a young widow out of her dream house? They told us if we didn't get the clear on the deal that they would send over a cancellation monday. I have placed a gypsy curse on the potential new buyers and am awaiting word that they have turned into lizards and can no longer proceed with the sale. Don't fuck with someone with nothing left to lose. :)
I am happy to report that as of 4:30pm today, my buyers have approved financing. Nothing like waiting til the last minute. We've sent over the amendment paperwork to all interested parties and have been given a verbal ok by my sellers through Thursday. If we can't close by then, its bye-bye new house and hello crappy rental house while I find something else. If that happens, I will be posting the address of what was supposed to be my new house for anyone interested in burning a cross or caringly placing a flaming bag of something or other on their porch.

I also finally got the opportunity to tell Progressive to rev up and fuck off. It felt good. I switched my auto insurance over to the same company doing my home owners insurance and while it wasn't much less, on principle, progressive had to be told off. I was hoping they'd ask for a reason and gratefully, they did. I told her where they could shove their widow tax and that it made ZERO sense for 1 single person to cost more than 2 married people. She said 'I'm sorry that had to happen to you' several times which is not technically an apology. I added their accountants to my gypsy curse list.

closing should be next week. The earlier the better. I won't count my proverbial chickens until the keys are in my hands. There's still several days for locusts or rogue thunderstorms that produce lightning and no beneficial rain to ruin this whole thing. Oh and the evil spirits who don't want me to leave.

It craaaaaaaawls

2009-06-07T21:32:00.000-07:00

Alby started crawling yesterday. I'm a single mom. I spend 24 hours a day with my kids. And my MOTHER saw her crawl for the first time. I swear Alby did it out of spite when I was taking a shower. Since she's been crawling for almost 48 hours now, I have taken the following things out of her hands.
1. speaker wire
2. lamp cord
3. unknown wire sticking out from behind entertainment center (seeing a pattern here?)
4. ball of lint
5. wrapper from Dora fruit snacks (this one is Delaney's fault not mine)
I saw NONE of these things on the floor. That little stinker can find anything she's not supposed to have. I don't have the house babyproofed since we were supposed to be moving on Tuesday and Delaney didn't crawl until she was a year old. Hopefully I find out our new timeline tomorrow and can plan accordingly. Good thing its not Christmas time. Poor Alby would be like that cat that ate the Christmas tree lights on Christmas Vacation.

a whole lotta suck

2009-06-05T14:09:00.000-07:00

I've been really busy with the pre-packing organizing and post-organizing packing the past few weeks. We were due to close on the 9th (both houses). Yesterday we found out that its not happening.
Long story short, the buyers are having issues with their bank. Their loan is STILL in the underwriting stage and they found out that there are going to be 'conditions' associated with the loan but they don't know what they are. I'm assuming they could range from 'fork over 10k more dollars to secure the loan' to 'explain this credit inquiry'. We were supposed to find out today but of course we haven't. And of COURSE its Friday so now we wait til next week. According to their realtor, the earliest we could close is the 15th. The latest would be not at all since they may not get their financing. Depending on how long it could take even if they CAN get their financing, we don't know if the sellers for my new house are willing to extend our closing date.
Once we know for sure if these buyers can still buy my house, and whether or not the sellers let me hang onto the new one, I've got some decisions to make. Do I sell to these people anyway even if I can't move into the new house and just rent a place for awhile until we find a new house that we liked as much as the one we wanted to buy? Do I tell these buyers 'tough shit, deals off' and just take it as a sign to stay put? Do I re-list the house and hope someone else can buy it? On top of all that decision making, my house is 80% packed. I will never again pack a house myself. I will make the movers do it and won't have them come until the day after closing. No one should have to pack up their entire house just to undo it all 5 days before they were supposed to close. Especially not a 30 year old widow with 1 baby and 1 toddler who doesn't know the meaning of 'I just put that in that box, do NOT take it back out and hide it when I'm not looking'. I also accidentally packed all the coffee mugs when I meant to leave 3 out. I don't know what box they're in.
My karma sucks.

shameless product reviews - Sprout Baby Food

2009-05-17T07:05:00.000-07:00

Betcha didn't know you were going to get product reviews on here did you??? I found something cool recently that I didn't know existed and figured I'd share. I was at Central Market lunching with my pal Allison when she whipped out a pouch of baby food for her 10 month old. She asked me if I'd tried it before and when I said I hadn't she told me how freaking awesome they were and that the food was actually really good. Judging by the name 'pasta with lentil bolognese' I figured she was right. I picked up a few at our grocery store. I had seen them before in the baby aisle but never really looked at them. They cost the same as a jar of earths best organic baby food for .5oz less. Rip off but not ridiculous rip off. PLUS our store had coupons. Buy 2 get 1 free. I picked up 3 that looked tasty.
First off, the packaging is both its benefit and achilles heel. I hate hate hate the plastic tubs of gerber baby food b/c they are such a royal pain in the ass to open. Its impossible to get the foil top off without squirting the food on your shirt or pulling back a finger nail. Then the fucking thing curls up on itself and you get baby food smeared all over your table. I by far prefer the jars but you cant get everything in jar form. Anyway these pouches are really easy to open, BUT its hard to get the food out. A lot sticks to the sides and in the corners and creases of the bag. You get the spoon all messy trying to get it out. BUT its totally awesome for travel. It takes up no space at all in your diaper bag and you don't have to worry about breaking it. Both good things to me since my diaper bag is already needing wheels at the bottom so I can pull it around with me. It also makes a lot less trash. The food is DELICIOUS. Alby isnt a very picky eater so she's not the one to be the judge, but I tried all of it and its amazing. Like real good food amazing.
I figured Sprout was just some division of kraft or gerber or something and didn't think it was an acutal organic non-evil corporation company. Not that I cared. Because I don't. But after a few bags worth, I read the back of the bag and its actually co-founded by Tyler Florence. Steve always thought he was kind of a douche but I really like his food.
Anyway that's my plug. Maybe he'll read this and shoot me over some coupons. The extra cool thing is that the only places that sell the stuff are Publix, Central Market and HEB! How random is that?? Lowly little HEB actually getting thrown a bone from a cool food company. We don't get anything first.

Happy Mother's Day!

2009-05-10T19:15:00.000-07:00

My first mother's day without Steve. It was actually not too bad. Special hugs to Rachel for including me in her family's Mother's Day celebration. I had a great time and Delaney took a rock star nap afterward. Awesome food, even awesomer company. One of those amazing wonderful families that accept you as their own even if you've never met them before (which I actually had since I'm at Rachel's house a lot) Last Mother's Day was the day before Steve's marathon 14 hour surgery in San Antonio. He actually forgot it was Mother's Day since he was so distracted. I let it slide. That was really the start of this whole long cancer trip. We spent the night at the hotel in S.A. since he had to be at the hospital at 6am. We had Pappasitos for dinner. I think it was actually the last time we went out to eat. This year I got a 'bear family' with our names on them from my mom (Delaney stole them) and BEAUTIFUL flowers from my brother. Come to think of it, I really made out better this year than last year!
Happy Mother's Day to all the Mamas out there! I hope your day was filled with homemade macaroni necklaces and back rubs!

House update

2009-05-10T19:12:00.000-07:00

We put an offer on the new house last Wednesday. It was accepted! The inspections for BOTH houses are tomorrow morning. I'll keep everyone updated!
Also once the option periods are over and it looks like everything is a go, if there is anyone who has any special interest in packing up my house, let me know. Seriously. I'd love to oblige anyone's affection for it.

puppy karma

2009-05-05T20:52:00.001-07:00

Today while on my way home from costco, I see a puppy sitting on the sidewalk on my street. No people. Just puppy. I stopped the car, backed up and decided to see if I could get close enough to him to see if he had tags before he would undoubtedly run away. He had tags and ran off. I was only a couple houses away from home and had Alby in the car so I pulled into the garage, put the baby to bed and grabbed a doggie treat from the stash we no longer give our dogs because I hate them most days. I went back outside and saw him jogging down the sidewalk headed for the street. He was 2 inches away from getting hit by a car and I was still a good 15 feet away from him. The car saw him and stopped but didn't realize he hid in front of the rear tire. I saw them start to drive again and yelled "STOP" at the top of my lungs. Miraculously they stopped and the puppy ran towards me. My own dog would never come to me. Especially not after yelling. This little guy ran right up and rolled on his back, tail wagging. I scooped him up and carried him inside. I knew someone loved him and would be missing him. He was freshly groomed and had a collar with tags on. Plus he was super sweet and was obviously well taken care of since he was so comfortable with strangers. I took him to my back yard and gave him water and more treats and called his owner. I could tell I freaked her out when I asked if this was the Koford residence. She paused before stating her full name. I told her I had her dog. She freaked out and asked me where I found him. The little bugger was only a few feet from his house. He had apparently dug a hole under the fence and escaped. She said her kids would die if anything happened to him and asked if I minded holding onto him for an hour or so until her lunch break. I told her I would keep him as long as she wanted.
My own dogs hated him. Darby growled at him when he jumped at her (he's half her size) so I locked her and Anna in the pantry and played with the new puppy until his owner picked him up. If he didn't have tags, I would have kept him. If I didn't believe in karma, I would have kept him regardless. He was that stinkin' cute. I needed some good luck though so I did the right thing.
7 hours later, we got a full price offer on our house.
karma isn't a bitch all the time.

Celebrities I hate

2009-05-04T19:27:00.000-07:00

Any celebrity who thinks that because they are on television, they are automatically qualified to write a parenting book.

You're all dumbasses.

Seriously.

All of you.

Tori Spelling. Put the pen down. You're cute. You're famous. You're wealthy beyond all imagination. You're not qualified to write a book. Unless its a diet book. It only has to be one sentence. "I only eat a bite of my kid's hotdog and a couple pieces of carrot for dinner". Sign it, print it and sell a million copies of it and add to your millions of dollars. Rub it in your mom's face too. She deserves it.

Nancy O'Dell. Really? I don't want any parenting advice from you. Technically I think her book is more pregnancy advice. The 'what no one tells you about being pregnant' kind of advice. But if you had no idea that your emotions change and your skin changes and you get fat when you're pregnant, you're a fucking retard. I'm not joking. This is from the editorial review:
Nancy's friends didn't think to warn her about half of the things that happened to them during pregnancy -- like how those red dots might appear on her chest in the third trimester or how her calves (not just her feet) would swell too much for those cute new boots.

You need new fucking friends. Or an internet connection. Or a library card. Or EYEBALLS. Have you NEVER SEEN ANYONE PREGNANT BEFORE???? "No one told me I'd be so emotional or that I'd gain weight!"
My theory is that she spent too much time in hollywood interviewing pregnant celebrities who aren't REALLY pregnant.
The only celebrity who has the right to pen a pregnancy/parenting book is Jenny McCarthy and that's because she gained 100lbs when she was pregnant.

Why I hate going to the grocery store

2009-05-04T19:12:00.001-07:00

Thankfully this is one activity that is bemoaned by 2-parent households as well. There's a lot we run into these days that are strictly the domain of things that suck about being a single parent. Grocery shopping is misery shared by all. Delaney was being perfect in the cart (she rides in the main section, not the designated kid part). I handed her whatever item I grabbed from the shelf and said 'thank you' as she arranged it in the cart. 'welcome, mom' was her response. Perfectly pleasant and lovely. Anytime she asked for her fruit snacks, I reminded her that she'd get them on the way out if she didn't scream. No problem. She knows the 'be good, get fruit snacks' routine by now. For those of you without small children, there is no actual fruit in fruit snacks. Its like gummy bears but a little bigger and in the shape of whatever disney cartoon kellogg paid to grace the front of the box. We get to the check out line and she is happily handing me stuff from the cart to place on the little counter thingy. We get to the end of the groceries and I noticed she's holding onto a box of cheerios and scowling at me, just DARING me to touch it. Delaney could usually care less about cereal. It wasn't even her freaking cereal, it was mine. She hadn't been asking for it the whole time or anything. I didn't even think twice about reaching for it when we were checking out. My fingertips barely touched the box when she let out a window shattering scream. Nice. I asked her what the hell was wrong and she wailed 'MY CEREAL!!!' I told her the nice lady had to scan it and then I'd hand the BOX back to her for her to covet for whatever weird reason. She howled. The cashier laughed and said I could just wheel the cart a little closer and she could scan the box while still in my kid's possessive little hands. I thanked her, let her scan the box and moved on. Meanwhile the gentleman bagging our groceries looks at Delaney wide-eyed and says 'jesus'. Apparently his first day on the job at the grocery store. Being at the end of my fuse for the day I snapped back 'fuck off, she's 2.'
That's what I get for tempting fate by going to the store with a 2 year old. I'd say I won't make that mistake again but we all know I will. Probably tomorrow afternoon when I realize we're out of X, Y and Z.

What the fuck IS that????

2009-04-28T12:54:00.000-07:00

Delaney's favorite thing on earth (besides screaming for no reason and hurling shoes at the dog) is play food. She freaking loves it. She calls it 'tea party' and loves dumping the entire bucket on the floor and feeding Elmo, Blinky and Wellington Bear dinner. When she invites me to play along, I get to sit on the freaking floor while the goddamn bear gets to sit at the table. But, whatever. Its cute. Since she loves it so much, I was a good Mommy and went to the 'educational' toy store to get a bunch more of the plastic culinary fun stuff. They had 2 tubs. 1 was the jumbo whatever food set and the other was the multicultural set. Being a good steward of my planet and all its people, I wanted to expose Delaney to the educational fun of learning all about what other cultures eat. Things like spaghetti. No shit. Never heard of that. And ravioli. Are you fucking kidding me? There's ravioli in here? What's that? Mmmmmm. Tacos. How exotic. OOOOOOOH...Sushi! Lots of different kinds of sushi! Now we're in business. We're well on our way to diving into the bucket of racially profiled food when we reach the following...

What the hell is this supposed to be? Is that supposed to be food? It looks like the dog vomited on the floor. What poor race of people is forced to consume food that looks like dog vomit? Could there be anything worse in here? Oh yes. There can.

What is THIS?? Its not quite as disgusting as the item on the right, but seriously...what is it? Its nothing I recognize. Now I may not be very adventurous in the kitchen but I watch food network from time to time and I used to watch Iron Chef, so I've seen some pretty weird shit. I've never seen the pink rice patty with green and red flecks. Moving on...maybe if I put all these items on a plate, we can better visualize them as food...

mmm....nope. Still just looks like unrecognizable shit on a plate. Now I know all you smart asses will point out the green items as leaves. No shit. But what is a stand alone green leaf doing in a bucket of play food? Nobody eats that. And WHAT is the thing that looks like a severed big toe? What am I supposed to tell my child when she holds it up and goes 'whats this, mommy?' I need them to create a bucket of realistic food. Foods kids have seen in their neighborhood grocery store. Not severed appendage dog vomit platter. I wasn't aware I was purchasing the Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom playset. All that's missing is the monkey brains and eyeball soup.

My special ladies

2009-04-20T20:03:00.000-07:00

These are my 2 current favorite pics of the girls. They were taken over Easter weekend. They can stop growing anytime now. Really. I'm good with where they're at.

For Sale

2009-04-20T19:49:00.000-07:00

The house is officially for sale. Joe came by today and plunked the sign down. Its scary. I'll know I'm making the right decision based on any offers we get. If it sells for my bottom line price, I'll know it was meant to be and we should move. If not, I'll know we should stay put for awhile. The hard part will be keeping it clean. Not just clean, actually, but cleaned out. Its borderline impossible. Finding hiding places for the shit we use everyday. Also, following Delaney around yelling at her to pick up whatever item she lovingly threw on the floor and walked away from. I've decided its easier to vacate the premesis so we're going back to Rockport on Thursday afternoon and spending the weekend with the grandparents. Cross your fingers for lots of showings while we're not here. Hopefully some young lucky couple will come along and fall in love with it the way we did. We've done all we can do. New sod. New flower beds. Pretty flowers in boxes hanging from the railings across the porch. New non-broken kitchen window. New carpet. Now all it needs are new owners.

My man card will be arriving in the mail any day now

2009-04-14T19:51:00.001-07:00

I don't think I'll ever get over how weird it is to do things that were exclusively Steve's domain. I didn't even know where the controls for the sprinkler system were until recently. Since I'm now in charge of all landscaping duties (ie paying the landscaping people and the mowers) I needed to make sure the sprinklers were set up. I read through the manual and figured out how to set the program and set it up for 2x a week since we'll be under watering restrictions around here soon enough anyway so why not go ahead and comply now. I run them at 4am so the water has time to soak in and not evaporate but not long enough for fungus to grow in the grass. I checked it last week on the watering day and the fence was wet! Woo hoo! I can operate sprinklers! Then our landscaping guy asked me to run them tonight so the yard is good and wet and ready for him to plant some new sod. He's only doing the front and the back middle so I wouldn't need to water the whole thing. This posed a problem as I have no idea which stations those parts of the yard were for. I cracked open the instructions again and learned how to run them all manually. Station 1 - the flower bed. Runs for 9 minutes. Cool. Ready for mr. landscaper to extend bed and plant new flowers. Station 2. The very front next to the sidewalk, front middle of the yard where there's zero grass left. Dribble, spew, dribble spew.....sputtering noises...water running down sidewalk. Damn. Station 2 is a bust. Probably a bust last year too and if I know Steve, he never bothered to check them last year to see if they worked. No wonder our yard DIED. Not one sprinkler in the bunch is working. I'm not a gambling woman but I'd bet that costs a small fortune and takes a small army of men to repair. Pushed the arrow button to move to station 3. WOO HOO! backyard! Where we also have no grass left thanks to extensive drought. Also where some new sod is going to go. Peeked out back...Lots of water spraying all over. Doesn't appear to be broken! 3 more to go. Station 4 - side of garage, sidewalk on one side of driveway....busted as well. Fuck. Station 5 - side of house. Works great. OF COURSE it does. There's lots of shade there so grass would probably grow without water. Station 6 - the rest of the backyard. Works fine.

Guess I'm getting up at 6am to water the front yard with a hose.

Guess I'm also googling 'sprinkler repair'.

douche of the day

2009-04-08T13:16:00.000-07:00

The Osteens.

For stating (and I quote) "I like to shoot for God's best, and that is a father and a mother in the home. It doesn't always happen. I know a lot of people raised by single parents. And you know what? We bless them and pray for them as well. But I think God's best is a male and female."

How sad for my girls. To know that we aren't God's best. We are apparently the silver medal winners in God's family dynamic olympics. I guess in the Osteen's family hierarchy, bronze would be all the single parents who are single by choice, not by death of a spouse. Congratulations. You may all pick up your medals at the door. You have to wait in line behind the gold winners though. You know who they are. That couple in New Jersey who named their kids after Hitler, Himmler and a concentration camp. Score. They were the 'chosen' man/woman combo though, so they win.

You know what God's best is? My friend Brian who is a gay single parent and does a better job at it than the VAST majority of man/woman parenting teams out there. God's other best? My friend Michelle who did what was BEST for her daughter by realizing two happy parents apart is waaaaaay better than two miserable parents together. She is my role-model for motherhood and its BECAUSE she made the tough choice to leave the safety and financial security of being married to do what was best for herself and her child. She's now happily re-married with 2 more kids who wouldn't otherwise exist had she followed the Osteen's proverbial definition of what was 'best'.

We thank you for your prayers, Joel and Victoria, but you can keep them. We're doing fine on our own.

By the way, I'm sure God is very very honored to have people as 'holier than thou' as you speaking on his behalf. Nice mercedes too. Created by the germans in God's own image, yes sir!

SELL! SELL! SELL!

2009-04-07T19:29:00.000-07:00

I've been busting my ass for the past couple weeks getting the house ready to sell. For a house that's only 4 years old, you'd be shocked at the amount of work I'm having to put in just to get it ready. We were apparently lazy home-owners and had no idea. I'm getting the master bedroom carpet replaced tomorrow (Darby's fault), the kitchen window replaced next week (hailstorm's fault) and the tile and carpet cleaned after that (Delaney's fault). Note that I'm the one doing all the work and none of the damage is my fault. Not that its really damage (window aside) Just 4 years of 2 dogs, 2 kids, 2 grown-ups and life I guess. It already looks weird clean. There's nothing on the counters in the kitchen. The 2nd sofa in the living room is in storage. Half Delaney's shit is gone. The treadmill no longer blocks the window in the office. Hopefully someone will like the floorplan and the big backyard and realize if they hate the paint, they can get it changed in one afternoon. If not, I'll make peace with it and do some demo.

I cut myself off from looking at houses online. There's one that I REALLY want on the other side of Avery. I know it'll be gone by the time my house sells though. Then I'll be pissed. I feel kinda dumb moving 3 miles away, but then I'm reminded of when Steve and I moved across a parking lot to a different apartment and I don't feel so dumb anymore.

Its about that time

2009-03-29T18:49:00.000-07:00

Time to go. Time to get the fuck outta dodge. Time to box up everything we (I) own and then selectively decide what gets opened again.

I've decided its time to move. The tidal wave of shock and relief has started to recede and its left me with an empty pit of grief that can probably only be filled by not pulling into our driveway or sleeping in our bed anymore. I knew it was going to happen. Right on cue, it hit the day after I sold Steve's car and crossed the last item off of my 'things to do now that Steve is dead' list. It was a long fucking list and it kept me busy for almost 3 full months. For the first time in a long time I looked forward instead of looking behind me and I'm didn't like what I saw. I never thought about leaving this house. In fact I was scared to death I wasn't going to be able to keep it and we'd HAVE to leave. I love this house. I love how it felt like home before we turned the car off the first time we drove up to check it out. I love our obnoxiously steep driveway that lets us tower over the people who walk by. I love the paint. I love our huge backyard. I love living in Avery Ranch (the cheapest house in Avery is still a house in Avery) I love hating our douchebag next door neighbor.

I'd also love to never see Steve in every square inch of it. I don't think I'll ever really feel like he's gone if everything stays the same. It still feels like he's just out of town.

Unfortunately, I may not have a choice. There was this little thing you may have read about recently called the collapse of the financial system in this country and I think it *may* have affected how easy it is to qualify for a mortgage. Having no problems paying for your current mortgage isn't really enough for them to give you a new one. If I can't buy a new house, I'm not going to sell this one. I'm just going to gut it. Which could be fun. New paint, new floors, some new furniture. A new start.

I'll just need to hit up one of you to host my garage sale. People aren't going to scale my driveway to get a good deal on a kitchen table.

The universe owns my ass

2009-03-22T20:43:00.000-07:00

Everytime I make a tough decision to do something, it blows up in my face. Case in point. Alby is a crappy sleeper. She wakes up every couple of hours. Sometimes she can be eased back to sleep by ever so carefully slipping the pacifier back in her mouth and backing away from her crib towards the door while holding your breath. Other times, not. She goes to bed at 7 and wakes up at midnight, 2, 3, 5, 7:30, 9. I've found that if I feed her in the middle of the night, it makes it worse. if I let her scream it out for awhile, she'll usually sleep longer. I decided over our mini-vacation that when we got back, it was sleep training time. When Steve was sick and I was gone a lot during the day, she slept a lot better. I think it was because she was getting more formula. I figured I'd up the number of formula bottles a day from 0-1 to 2-3 and make sure her last feeding before bed was of the powdered variety. This worked well last night. She woke up a bunch but everytime went right back to sleep if I replaced the pacifier. Today however, she's a big screaming mess and I can't tell if her new pathetic cough is due to illness or from all the excess drool from her cutting teeth. Either way, it sucks and I am now going to have to start all over again when she's not so pitiful. I even got my room all set up for her to join me in the middle of the night if she starts coughing more. Her room is stocked with the super-duper warm mist humidifier cranked to high and a gentle vapors plug plugged in next to her bed. Your shirt sticks to your back after 1 minute in her room, but since they banned baby cold medicine, I have to make due with the voodoo cures of humidity and manufactured eucalyptus scent. How this has been determined an effective treatment for small children suffering the ravages of an upper respiratory infection is beyond me. I wish we lived in Europe where you can still give babies things like honey and robutussin when they're sick. But not here. Nooooooooo.....we have the magic of moist air.

And saline drops (seriously fucking stupid)

It was inevitable but I think we weathered it well

2009-03-09T20:18:00.001-07:00

One of my biggest fears of being a single parent is what the hell do I do when someone gets sick? Either me or one of the girls. There's really no optimal choice. I knew it would happen sooner or later (sooner in all likelihood) and I was honestly terrified.

We got lucky.

On our way to Delaney's friend Maddie's birthday party on Saturday afternoon, she decided to barf all over herself and her carseat twice. Adios, new car smell. It was all I could do to not wreck the car and kill all 4 of us (my awesome friend Brian was with us helping out) It took us 15 minutes to clean her up(and 2 trips into the CVS for paper towels, water, wipes, etc) and gingerly place her back in the disgusting carseat in only a diaper. I thanked God for 2 things. 1. I wasn't alone. 2. It wasn't freezing outside. She was more or less herself the rest of the evening and went to bed without incident. She woke up barfing again at 2am though. I felt SOO bad for her. Throwing up sucks no matter how old you are, but it never looks quite as pathetic as it does on a toddler. Couple that with her saying 'excuse me' after that little burp-hiccupy thing you do after puking and I offered her cartoons on the couch while I cleaned up her bed. She woke up feeling more or less herself on Sunday although she had a fever. Once the motrin knocked it out though, she was bouncing off the walls all day. Today she woke up acting sick but without the fever or barfing. By 11am she was fine again. Weird virus.

I'm praying she wakes up in a good happy healthy mood tomorrow so I can send her to school and run the 4 errands I have lined up.

Makes me cringe to think that when Steve and I were both here and healthy and Delaney was a baby, we would CALL MY PARENTS to come in town and help us when she was sick. We outnumbered her 2 to 1 and still thought we needed help. Now I can handle 1 well kid and 1 sick kid by myself. If they both get sick at the same time though, I'm in deep shit. I know everyone offers to help but we all live in fear of illness spreading from kid to kid. No one wants to risk their own family getting someone else's plague. And understandably so. Throwing barfy sheets in the washing machine in the middle of the night is no one's idea of a good time.

douche of the day part deux

2009-03-08T12:34:00.000-07:00

Today's douche of the day is Mattel.

http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Weekend/story?id=7033295&page=1

Someone needs to be fired. Like yesterday. Whoever the moron is who came up with 'tween dora' should have to stand in a suburban mom's living room while her and her neighborhood mom friends and their toddlers beat the hell out of them with dora merchandise. And some of that shit is heavy.

I hate hate hate when companies 'moderinize' beloved characters in order to sell them to a crowd who has rightfully outgrown them. 10 years olds should not be interested in dora anymore. They are 10. They should be watching stupid hannah montana and jonas brothers and whatever other indoctrinating crap the disney channel has for them. There is nothing wrong with growing out of something you loved as a TODDLER. You don't see me sporting big bird velcro shoes anymore, do you? But noooooooo, we have to whore up dora so older kids are still interested. And check out the silhouette mattel released. She looks like a goddamn bond girl. That is JUST the sort of role model little girls need. Its not like they don't already have prostitute barbie and the bratz to carry around with them. Dora was the last bastion of respectable girl marketing. Now it can be filed away with 'things I don't want my daughter familiar with'. My file box is filled with enough of that crap. Most of it of the disney princess variety. I despise how little girls are taught that the most they can ever aspire to be is a subserviant concubine in sparkly ball gown.

Now I must disclaim that i personally don't like Dora. I know EVERYONE wants their kids to be bilingual (at least) but we have a hard enough time teaching Delaney english. The kid didn't talk until she was almost 2. I'm going to have a hard enough time helping my kids with their homework since the family math genius is gone. I don't need one more class that I'll have to send her over to Katherine's house for help. Til then I respect others wishes to teach their kids every language they please but respectfully decline. That's not the main reason we don't watch dora though. Delaney is already addicted to enough television shows and I can't take one more. I learned my lesson with elmo. All that said, there is nothing wrong with dora. She's cute and wholesome and entertaining and of all the things your kids could watch on tv, she's a good one to pick. At least she was. Until mattel decided to turn her into one of the 'girls next door'. When I saw this story on the news, they were exclaiming how New Dora moved to the big city! She's fashionable! Well thats just GREAT. Big City Dora! Does she have a pimp? A crack den she frequents? A corner she works? "Big City Dora knows what she wants and isn't afraid to get it!" Complete with hooker boots and her own pole.

Boys don't have this problem. There's no man-whore batman. And you KNOW poor diego is getting left behind in imagination land or wherever him and dora come from. She's clearly moved on and has a new guy in the city.

I totally lost where I was going with this.

Oh yeah.

Fuck you, mattel!

douche of the day

2009-03-06T06:31:00.000-08:00

A new segment I call 'douche of the day'. Some of you will hate this one but I loooooooove bitching about people.

Today's douche of the day award goes to Rihanna. Sorry, everyone. Obviously Chris Brown is a huger piece of shit, but he goes beyond douche and therefore was not eligible for consideration. Rihanna however is the new poster child for women who give other women a bad name. She didnt' just stay with her boyfriend after he 'hit' her. Not that I in ANY way consider hitting an excusable offense. But he beat the ever living snot out of her and threatened to kill her. And it clearly wasn't the first time. Word is that he's copping a plea deal so he never has to go to trial since there is an even more horriffic picture of Rihanna from the day after the assault that would be released that they don't want anyone to see. Rihanna asked the judge to not keep Chris Brown from being allowed to see her. Awesome. Good move, moron. He practically beat you to death in a moving car, but sure...let's spend the weekend in Miami together at P-Diddy-Douchebag's house and pretend it never happened. She not only did a huge disservice to women by making them think its acceptable to be beaten up, but ENCOURAGED an entire legion of dirtbag boyfriends out there that they can get away with knocking their woman around b/c she'll take them back no matter what. Even beautful talented ones like Rihanna. The worst thing about all of this is that she is in a position to WALK AWAY free and clear. No having to hide with her children in a woman's shelter in the bad part of town. No having to live in her car b/c she doesn't have a job and her wife-beating husband was her only means of food and shelter. She is a bazillionaire who is hugely famous and talented and beautiful and doesn't need Chris Brown for anything. She pisses me off.

my kids are hella cute

2009-03-03T13:54:00.000-08:00

I don't do the 'look how cute my kids are' blog since I don't take enough pictures of them, but since some of you who don't know us have asked what they look like....these are the most recent pictures I have of them together. I've been meaning to take more but you've seen by my previous post that I have a lot to do. Today is Alby's 5 month birthday though so I HAVE to do her 5 month pics in her crib like I do every month. Oh and Delaney's hair is now way shorter. I don't have any pics of her cute new short hair-do yet.

The price

2009-03-03T13:10:00.000-08:00

and its a steep one, my friends.

Its 3:10pm. I've been listening to both kids screaming like they have gunshot wounds for 25 minutes. Alby NEEDS 2+ hours of uninterrupted naptime in the afternoon, preferably by 2pm if not earlier. Especially if she didn't have a good nap in the morning. Well today she didn't have a nap in the morning b/c we had several errands and a much needed playdate-mommy-catch-up planned with baby Grant this morning while Delaney was in school. THEN I bit the bullet and dragged both of them to run-tex so I could get new running shoes. THEN I went to McDonalds to get ice cream for Delaney (her bribe for being dragged to the shoestore and not throwing a fit) and had to feed Alby in the parking lot while Delaney shampooed her hair with a mcflurry. Fast-forward to 2:45 and I'm trying to get both kids quiet but Delaney had a SHRIEKING meltdown as soon as we got home which set off the baby and now we've reached a point of no return. I've tried repeatedly to pick up the baby and do the shushing thing but she's too far gone. The only thing that may bring her back is a bottle which I'm refusing to give her b/c she ate an hour ago and I know she's not hungry just overtired because mommy broke the rules. Delaney banging on her door and screaming at the top of her lungs only made it worse.

You may be reading this thinking (rightfully so) that this is all my fault. It is. I tempted the gods and didn't come straight home after picking Delaney up from school. I had also run out of options though. I've been trying to do 2 things for the past TWO WEEKS. 1. get new running shoes so I can use the treadmill without permanently injuring my knees by running on my 5 year old crappy shoes. 2. get a pedicure. Number 2 is not going to happen until Alby is in kindergarten. I've literally had absoultely no time without the kids to get these things done. So I picked the one that was the most important and the one that could only be done with the kids in tow, and made the 20 minute trek down to run-tex for the fucking shoes.

I know everyone offers to help. I really do appreciate it. I'm also realistic. Its no ones job to watch my kids day after day while I run errands. There's been a million extra things to do since Steve died in addtion to the normal stuff. We're still not done with all that. And I swear I do some of it everyday. I also used up an entire friendship's worth of favors while Steve was in the hospital. I don't technically HAVE to be alone to go grocery shopping or doctor appointmenting or errand running. Its just a million times easier. The price however is two screaming unhappy kids.

You can only hit up your friends so many times. I even try to spread the love around by doing stuff late at night when my awesome friends who go off to work for 9 hours a day can give up time with THEIR families and come help out. I hit up Blanchard last week for an entire day so I could get the new minivan. She has 2 kids of her own and her husband is out of town a lot. She didn't bat an eye when I asked if she could help us out. She didn't even look TIRED when I picked up the kids in the afternoon. I don't want to bother her again until at least April. I hit up Michelle last week so I could go to Target for stupid nutripals bars that HEB decided not to sell anymore. Everyone else is struggling with a toddler and a new baby too. Or else someone is sick. Or they're out of town. Or they have their own errands to run. Or their husband is home from work so they're doing family stuff. Like I said, its no ones responsibility to babysit all the damn time. I know everyone is overwhelmed with their own lives. Having two small kids is hard. No one would CHOOSE to do this on their own. There's a reason for that. The price outlined above. Given the choice, I'd be dragging Steve on our errands too on his days off too. The thing I miss the most is getting out and doing stuff on Saturdays. We'd go to Sams club, go to wingstop for lunch, go to HEB, etc. Its been well over a year since we did that though. Its not quite the same doing it with 2 kids and no other adults. Even when my parents are here, its a race against the clock to get stuff done. I have to weigh what is the most important and just do what I can. Last time they were here, it was go to the grocery store and go to academy b/c I had promised Steve's best friend that I would go to his kids school play that night while I had a free babysitter. In between, I rush home to feed the baby and then rush back out again. Its exhausting even when I have help b/c there's never enough time to get everything done.

Granted now its 3:35 and I've spent half an hour typing this when I could be scraping dried up hamburger helper off of my counter instead of complaining. I think complaining is better for your soul though.

I also just realized its quiet. Hell help the person who rings my doorbell and wakes up my kids.

"I'm not a woman anymore....I'm a mom."

2009-02-23T19:04:00.000-08:00

I bought a minivan today. I'm one denim vest away from being the 'mom jeans' mom. I'd like to say I'm the Amy Poehler but lets face it...I'm the Rachel Dratch.

thats it...run away your grief!

2009-02-19T18:28:00.000-08:00

Dear Steve,

I owe you an apology. I made a promise to you the Monday before you died that I would take good care of our girls and that you had nothing to worry about. I'm thinking I lied to you. Not in a 'I let Delaney play with matches' or 'got liquored up before feeding the baby' kind of way, but still. I can't take care of them if I can't take care of myself. Lord knows I've been hard on my body for the past 30 years or so. Now I live in fear of leaving our girls with no parents at all. They're already down 50%. I can't let them be raised in a house where they're told Rush Limbaugh has some really great points (no offense, Uncle Chris) because I was too stupid to get off my ass.

Actually this is sort of all your fault. If you weren't so nice and wonderful and caring and kind, I may not have been so lazy. I totally took advantage of you and for that I'm truly sorry.

Today is my 4th day on the treadmill. Well, technically 3rd. I walked outside yesterday. I'm ever so slowly working my up to being able to run for 30 minutes straight. It will take months to get there. But that's ok. I vow to be healthy enough to play with our kids without getting tired. This isn't about being afraid of being fat. You know as well as I do that I'm not afraid of that. If it was possible to be healthy and full of energy and still be a size 12, no problem. I don't care how I look in my underwear. Its not like anyones looking (one of the 'cosmic benefits' my friend Rachel came up with. Another is no one eats the last cookie). I just don't want to be a poster child for dying young. You were the picture of health before you got sick and cancer got you anyway. You used to work out all the time and did things like drink water. I'm imagining my odds are that much worse if I don't start taking care of myself. Judging by the traffic on this blog, I've got 33 or so witnesses to my pledge. Please don't punch me in the face if you see me at mcdonalds though. Delaney still needs to eat and I'm going to be too tired from running on the treadmill to make her chicken nuggets myself. :)

I'm sure you've all been waiting for this one...F-you, you crazy fucking psycho with 14 fucking kids

2009-02-16T18:53:00.001-08:00

Seriously...who the fuck does that wack-job think she is? Aside from all the moral attrocities that I can think of when the idea of implanting half a dozen embyos in what can only be described as a greyhound bus of a uterus comes to mind, how the hell can you even stand up and walk across the room without having your vagina fall on the floor behind you? How is it humanly possible for ONE woman to gestate 14 children? On top of that, how is it humanly possible for that one woman to think people are in awe of her and not disgust? Did she really not see the death threats and legal investigations coming? What moron goes on national tv and admits they are using student loans for anything other than SCHOOL???? And you KNOW that bitch gave those kids bible names to appeal to the deep pockets of some evangelical church in either California or Houston. I have TWO kids and I'm ready to shoot myself at the end of the day a good 2-3 days a week. This bitch has 14. They're not donuts, lady. They're children. You should have stopped at 3 like the rest of America and counted your blessings (and whatever remained of that $160,000 after the IVF and silicone lip injections) But NOOOOOOOO....you sat back and figured the planet didn't have enough needy unfortunate children who will someday need extensive therapy. You wanted MORE. ELEVEN more to be exact. Who needs a husband (or their own home, car or bank account)? You'll raise them on love and love alone! You have Dr. Mengele willing to shove god knows what in that winnebago you call a womb. "8 babies are such a blessing" My fucking ass they are. You should be charged with child endangerment just for refusing selective reduction. And if ANYTHING EVER happens to ONE of those babies that can be attributed to complications of being 1 of 8, you should be charged with murder. Plain and simple. You greedy, fuck. You gotta love the smug sense of self-satisfaction on her fucking face too. She thinks she won the baby lottery. Until that is, those 8 babies are released into her care and then she's going to have a scathing case of buyers remorse. I can't fit 2 children under 3 feet tall into a 1900 sq foot house. How on earth do you think you can fit 14? And how will you get around? Paint up a schoolbus and pretend to be the partridge family? You have royally screwed all 14 of those kids. Not to mention your poor mother. I hope she sells you out to the highest bidder and writes one hell of a tell-all book about your unstable dumb-ass. THAT I'll buy. I will not however watch you on Oprah (b/c you KNOW that shit is coming as soon as little miss billionaire gets her ass back from vacation and shoots some new episodes). nor will I watch any upcoming reality shows on TLC (unfortunately you know that shit is coming too). The sad truth is that those kids are in need of some shit that you will never be able to afford without 6 figure interview and book deals. Things like diapers and formula and clothing and food and electricity and living space and cell phones to call child protective services when you fall off your rocker again. I'm sure the tax payers of California are more than happy to foot the bill for your 'miracle'. What with them getting IOUs for their tax refunds this year b/c their state is officially out of money. FYI residents of California: Alby spent 3 days in the NICU and it was something like $14,000. Mutiply that by 8, and then multiply THAT by 30. Then go vomit and move out of state.

time to teach delaney the important things

2009-02-10T20:15:00.000-08:00

Like the names of all of the superheroes on her DC comics t-shirt that I dress her in at least twice a week (basically whenever her darth vader shirt is dirty). We'd been over it 50 times but she still isn't catching on. I guess b/c they are upside down to her, its hard to put names with faces. She made me cry yesterday though. It'd been a few days since I cried and I guess it was about time. I figured I'd start with an easy one and I pointed to superman and asked her 'who's that?'. She replied 'thats daddy!'.

Ouch.

It gets better though....

I pointed to wonderwoman with her enormous jugs and said 'who's that?'. Her reply...'that's mommy!'

Sweet. Now where'd I put that fucking cape?

mini-vacation/sabatical

2009-02-09T19:23:00.000-08:00

We just got back in town from our first family of 3 road trip down to the shore. I would have stayed longer but I'm afraid if Delaney misses any preschool she'll start screaming when I drop her off again and my mornings suck enough.

Since we were in the happy shelter of my parents house, nothing interesting happened to us the past 4 days. Since you all know, I can't make this shit up, if nothing note-worthy occurs, I don't update anything. My to-do list is still a mile long. Although I DID apply for our new health insurance today. I still need to get some paper filed with the court stating that I'm in charge of Steve's shit now that he's gone. Once that is done I can sell his car, do something with the 100 shares of worthless ford stock he bought last fall, and finally put that whole nonsense to rest. As soon as the title to his camry is in my name, I'm taking it AND my car to carmax to unload. Then I'm sucking it up and buying the minivan we were planning on getting this spring. Nothing says 'hot' like a 30 year old mother of 2 in a toyota minivan. Its a necessary evil though. I learned that the hard way when trying to transport the dogs over to Diego's house for the weekend. There's nowhere for them to fit in my car other than the passenger seat. I tried putting Darby in the back between the carseats but (no lie) the little fucker SHAT on the backseat and then had the balls to jump over the center console and into my lap while I was driving. I had to pull into the good ol' burger king parking lot to beat her.

I'll make sure not to share that tidbit with the people at carmax. "yes sir, no accidents, new tires and no sireee, no dogs have treated the backseat of this fine automobile like a toilet".

goddamn that dog.

We're so sorry to hear about the loss of your husband...please hand over 28 dollars.

2009-02-04T16:03:00.001-08:00

FUCK YOU, Progressive!!!!

They are now at the top of my shit-list for companies run by piss-poor examples of human beings. We've had progressive for our auto insurance for a couple years now. We've never filed a claim, gotten a ticket, had an accident or anything. We always pay our bill up front instead of over the 6 month period. We do everything online, etc. This week I've been trying to stay on top of all the "stuff" that needs to be addressed now that Steve is gone. Everything is in both of our names and for legal reasons, he needs to be removed. I could just see me getting in a car accident 4 months from now and them denying my claim since I'm not the primary insurance holder, I'm only on the policy. So I call the douchebags. Explain that I need to update our policy with just my name instead of Steve's. Explain that for the time being we still need both cars covered since I've been too busy to deal with selling his car. Explain that yes I'd like to keep the policy the same, etc. The lovely 'lady', LAQUAN, puts me on hold while she updates everything in the system, then comes back and tells me that they will be mailing out new insurance cards that only have my name (waste of paper, but whatever) and that the date will be effective today, yada yada. Then LAQUAN has the BALLS to tell me that my policy has increased by $28.00. My response "excuse me? Clearly I wasn't listening b/c I KNOW you didn't just tell me my policy went up?" (I just paid it 2 weeks ago for the next 6 months) LAQUAN'S stock response "yes, well, um, your policy went up b/c it costs less to insure married couples than it does to insure single or widowed people"

Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME??? Talk about a punch in the fucking face. FIRST of all...how is it mathematically possible for two people to cost less to insure than one person? I can understand one person costing more than one half of two people, but there's no way it makes sense for 2 to be less than 1. SECOND of all...WHAT THE HOLY FUCK? WHY WHY WHY would any company slap a $28 fine on someone because they went from 'married' to 'widow'????

Since I've got enough on my plate for the next month or so, I paid their fucking $28 increase and made a silent prayer to god to afflict whoever at progressive implemented their stupid 'widow tax' with a raging case of herpes. Rest assurred that as soon as I sell Steve's car and its time to update the insurance again, they will be cancelled and I will be going with ANY other company.

temptation, thy name is queso

2009-02-02T20:15:00.000-08:00

Most people probably say that meaning 'oh I shouldn't eat queso b/c its so bad for you and my figure and my health are important to me'. I am not most people. I care not of waistlines and cholesterol levels. I cannot eat queso for the simple fact that my 4 month old daughter cannot properly digest dairy and she has been a screaming mess for 3 weeks now. I cut out all dairy out of my diet about 10 days ago and changed her to a 'gentle' formula (read: costs more and probably doesn't do anything). I've been REALLY good about not eating dairy on purpose. I have forgotten a couple of times and put a spoonful of Delaney's mac n cheese in my mouth or a couple doritos. But overall...really good. I made a huge batch of Steve's baconated queso on Sunday for our girlie superbowl party and its STILL NOT GONE. I had a dozen people here the past 2 days munching on all sorts of goodies and the queso is still fucking here. I SAW EVERYONE EATING IT. HOW CAN THERE STILL BE QUESO LEFT??? I have ZERO self-control. Period. With anything. I can't diet, I can't properly 'train' my hair by only washing it every other day. The second something gets hard, I stop. That's the other thing you need to know about me. I'm a big quitter. So having my all-time favorite cheesy pleasure mocking me from my refrigerator for over 48 hours is just getting ridiculous. I was THIS CLOSE to saying fuck it, and microwaving me up a big ol' bowl of liquified saturated fat when I heard Alby LAUGHING in her high chair. I looked at the clock and realized it was after 6pm, her fussiest time of day. It hit me then that she hadn't been fussy AT ALL. Not once all day. Save for the 5 minutes when I was at Sams club shopping while my friends were babysitting and she was hungry and had no patience to wait 20 seconds for a warmed up bottle. Maybe my semi-self-control had actually worked. Maybe she wasn't going to scream and cry all the time anymore now that her body was adjusting to the lack of dairy. Alby has been pitching screaming fits for 3 solid weeks. I mean seriously screaming and crying like she has a broken leg. I even took her to the doctor last week when she already had her 4 month appt scheduled for THIS week. The doctor said it was probably a dairy sensitivity and to try modifying my diet and her formula supplement. I was willing to give up the obvious sources of dairy (whole milk, yogurt, ice cream and queso) but if any more was required of me, she was just going to have to learn to like the taste of $25 per 8oz of hypoallergenic formula. Considering all I'd lost lately, I didn't want to give up breastfeeding. Not yet. I fully plan to wean her in May before I take my 'vacation' in June, but that is still 4 months from now. For now, feeding her has been part of what gets me through the day (*ahem* night) It gave me something to focus on other than the obvious stuff. It gave me a greater purpose and kept me from doing bad things to myself when I was sad. Its a guaranteed way to get her to stop crying at ANY time. Even if she's not hungry. It burns a crapload of extra calories a day that would otherwise not get burned. I did NOT want to give those things up yet. So I thanked god for my reward of a smiling, happy, not crying baby and stepped away from the queso.

Until tomorrow. When I open my fridge again. And see it sitting there. Mocking me.

30 is the new suck

2009-01-31T19:33:00.001-08:00

In 2.5 hours, I will be 30 years old. To all of you "30 is the new 20" people...

you're a bunch of dirty fucking liars.

Or you're already in your late 30s or early 40s. :)

Or you're thin.

Or you're happily married.

For the rest of us...turning 30 is the proverbial 'dog turd in the punch bowl' in an otherwise stellar year.

Smoke 'em if you got 'em.

Not necessarily a bright side but I'll take it

2009-01-30T20:16:00.000-08:00

I've been trying to come up with any positive sides of all this (there are none) but there ARE some slowly emerging benefits to being on my own again. I'll share them as I think of them in case anyone else out there finds themself alone.

#1. You can watch Mamma Mia on ppv without anyone judging you for your lame crappy pick of a movie on a Friday night.

and today's 'thumbs up' goes to.....

2009-01-29T11:26:00.000-08:00

Thumbs up to you, functionally retarded young Burger King employee! I know it must be hard bagging those TWO item orders! Thank you for remembering to put my daughter's chicken tenders and french fries in the bag UPSIDE DOWN. Also good job on those 2 packets of ranch dressing when we ordered bbq sauce not once but twice. My 2 year old enjoyed dumping the contents of the bag in her lap when she got tired of reaching her little arm all the way in to grab a piece of chicken that would have been more easily accessible had it been placed in the bag right side up and remained in the tiny child-friendly paper container.

Kudos.

And seriously...fuck you guys. Learn to work the drive-thru and maybe they'll promote you to fry-maker. Ding. They're done.

Why I'll keep the dogs

2009-01-28T08:00:00.000-08:00

Most days I'm tempted to open the front door and release the hounds into the wild. Today I was reminded why I keep them.

I had Alby up on my shoulder at the computer while I was checking stuff this morning. She let out a big burp and barfed a good 6 ounces of milk all over my shoulder, the back of my arm, the desk chair armrest and the floor. While I sat in shock for a few seconds deciding whether or not to move, the dogs ran in and licked it all up off the floor.

Good puppies.

F-You, Kate Gosselin

2009-01-27T18:22:00.000-08:00

Just who the fuck does she think she is???

That bitch is making waaaaaay too much money letting the TLC camera crew follow her and her family around. They just bought a multi-million dollar house on top of some beautiful mountain in central Pennsylvania and she's surrounded by all of Gods glory and 8 HEALTHY kids and a tolerant husband who doesn't beat the shit out of her for being such a nag and all she could do for the entire 30 minute episode was complain about how filthy her BUILT-IN fridge was. Well, EXCUSE THE SHIT OUT OF ME!!! Life sure can be cruel and hard can't it? However will you find the strength to go on being responsible for cleaning a 6000 sq foot house? You might as well just kill yourself now.

I loved the show when it first came on and it was about how hard they had it. 8 kids, regular jobs, etc. I remember back in the beginning she still had to work as a nurse on the weekends just so they could pay their mortgage. THAT was worthwhile tv. Plus her kids were hella-cute. This shit has just gotten out of hand though. As soon as they started partying down with their waaaaaaay too rich friends, I realized the show was changing. Sure enough, it doesn't look like the dad even has to work anymore, they bought this ENORMOUS house that any of us would kill just to spend a weekend in, and all she still does is complain.

Granted, I'm sitting here complaining too, but I'm complaining about the audacity of others not my own circumstances. I'm pretty complain-less about my own situation today. Delaney's nose quit running. Its nice and cold and gray outside (yay!) I had yummy leftovers from Roxanne's dinner last night and my own dinner on Saturday I poached off of Judy. Alby is a little sick but she's still sleeping well so I can handle some sneezing and coughing. I managed to get the trash AND recycling out to the curb before the rain stopped. My awesome friend Rachel hooked me up with her father-in-law who is a lawyer and he is helping me with some legal stuff. Just your standard "what do I do when my spouse dies" kind of things.

I also just realized its 30 minutes past Delaney's bedtime and she's still on the couch watching the Incredibles for the umpteenth time today while I get my affairs in order. By 'my affairs' I clearly mean catching up on celebrity gossip and researching minivans.

Hugs.