Meryl and Charlie

Gold medal winning ice dancers, Meryl Davis and Charlie White are going to be on Dancing with the Stars. 

I've been wondering for weeks the following question...

Why does she look so much OLDER than him?

Possible theories:

1.  She IS 1 year older than him, 26 to 27 could be where "old age" happens.

2.  The inch of make-up they force that (beautiful) woman to wear is aging her.

3.  Maybe I just notice it because Charlie White looks like the infant Baby New Year from the Rudolph cartoon.  I keep waiting for his giant ears to pop his top hat off.

4.  I should say something serious about how society focuses on a woman's age and looks more than a man's...but I'm frankly too tired to do that.


Best of luck, Meryl and Charlie.  Meryl is dancing with Maksim Chmerkovsky so she's already got her hands on more GOLD.  Lucky lady.

Abby is...

Abby is intelligent and hard-working.

She got straight As again, for the second time this year.

Abby is caring and sweet.

We had to leave a meeting early last night because Lucy was acting up.  I apologized to Abby and she said "That's OK Mom, nothing is more important than family."

and Abby is a damn liar.

Doctor:  "Is Abby eating any vegetables yet?"
Me:  "No."
Abby:  "I keep telling them I need to eat some vegetables." 

Rock Star Mom

This morning, I felt like a rock star mom.  I looked out at Abby, waiting at the bus stop in the 2 degree weather, wearing her earmuffs, scarf and gloves and realized something...


I didn't tell her to put any of those things on.  She did it by herself.  Go Abby!

Success! Internal air guitar celebration!  Happy dancing in my pajamas!  "Wayne's World!  Party time!  Excellent!"  I'm a rock star. 

But for every "Walk the Line", there is a "Walk the Dinosaur"
For every "Disco Inferno", there is a "Disco Duck"


And just like life, when you are on top  - someone knocks you back to reality.  Even when you are a rock star.

Moments after Abby boarded the bus and was off to school, Lucy took off her left sock and handed it to me.  She then walked around the house wearing only the right sock for the next 3 hours.

Oh, Lucy.  You are a funny little stinker. 

In the cah...to the bah

Lucy must be from Boston.

She has my briefcase and is walking through the house with it.

"Where you going, Lou?"

"A bahhhhhh"

"Do you have a meeting?"

"A baahhhhhh"

"You going to the office?"

"A BAHHHHHH"



Apparently, Lucy needs a beer.

(Truth be told, so does Momma)

Stay warm, peeps.

If ACS CAN, I Can

I recently took on another volunteer position (ssssshhh...nobody tell Rob) with the Relay for Life, benefiting the American Cancer Society.  I am one of the co-chairs of Advocacy and Mission for the Relay in our area.

I am still feeling out what is involved with this job, and have discovered the group ACS CAN, American Cancer Society Cancer Action Network.

So my first job is to see how many people I can get to email their Congressman, with the help of the website below and ask them to increase funding for cancer research.

Please take a moment and check out this website....a cure can be found, together we CAN.

http://acscan.org/research

peanut shells

Lucy has been watching a lot of Charlie Brown cartoons lately, and there is one called "Happy New Year, Charlie Brown" that you may not have seen.

Without ruining it for you, Charlie Brown gets assigned to read "War and Peace" over Christmas break and misses the big New Year's Eve party thrown by Peppermint Patty and Marcie.  Patty and Marcie both want to dance with "Chuck" at midnight but he is still crushing on the little red haired girl.

Conversations I have had with myself today:

Why is Charlie Brown more well-read than I am?

Why are these cartoon characters so relationship-obsessed?  The Peanuts Gang must live in Peyton Place 

Why is Peppermint Patty so mad that Charlie Brown invited the little red haired girl to her party when Peppermint Patty set the precedent by inviting herself, Marcie AND Franklin to Thanksgiving?




It is quite possible that I need some adult-time.  Thank God it's Friday.


Thanks everyone for the advice regarding Abby's Kindle and the charging of it overnight.  I'm glad to hear it won't do too much damage to it, but I refuse to accept that "Abby was right" since she didn't listen to her mother.  Am I right Moms?  Thanks again, peeps!

70% is bad, bad, bad

The numbers.

I'm not talking about the Lost numbers (although the G4 Channel is gone, and so is my Lost reruns fix which depresses the crap out of me, but I digress)

Numbers are Abby's thing.  She's excellent at Math...always has been.  But her structured way of thinking has moved over to numbers and is causing us grief.

We have always had issues with time.  Don't wake Abby up at 6:59, she'll yell at you about waking her up "way too early".  Wake her up at 7:00.  She helped me the other day by telling me not to trust Grandma's clock.  It was a minute off.  Abby looked at me like, "Told ya."

The other night, waiting at the mall for Amber to meet Abby for a movie, she said "What time is it?"  I said, "4:43"  She said "Awesome, Amber will be here in 2 minutes because she is supposed to meet us at 4:45."  When Amber was late, Abby was sure my phone had the incorrect time on it.

Our newest issue is with the Kindle Fire, Abby's Christmas gift from her dad, myself and Grandma.  The other night as I tucked Abby in, I noticed that her Kindle was on the charger.
"What percentage is your battery at?", I asked.
"70%"
"Un-plug it while you sleep please.  It isn't good to keep it plugged in overnight.  If you over-charge the battery, it will start to go bad."
"OK, Mom."

Well, long story short, I discovered that she plugged it back in after I left the room.

It's the numbers. 

70 is bad...100 is much better.  She relates the battery number with the school grading system.  70 is bad (average, but "bad" to Abby) and 100 is much better.  100 is essential.  100 is ideal.  She can't concentrate or sleep unless it's at 100% or charging away to get there. 

We discussed this with her therapist today and Abby said she was "distracted" by the 70% battery and needed to "fix it" to relax.

These are the things that keep Abby up at night, and the repercussions then keep ME awake at night.

I am 100% positive that we will get through this and 70% positive that the Kindle battery will fail early.  Pick your battles, Sarah.

Something STINKS in Crazytown

Well, January is in full blast and today, I must say that it STINKS.

Tonight, I somehow managed to get a big mysterious chunk of poop on my foot while changing a diaper.  I don't know where it came from...I mean, I KNOW where it came from but how it arrived on my foot, I do not understand.

20 seconds after the "stinky foot incident", a giant stink bug walked across the living room floor, causing Abby to lose it. Completely lose it.

1 hour later, assisted Abby with her bath, helped her dry her hair and asked her to give it one last brush before bed.  Cue freak out #2.

Stink bug on the hairbrush.

"That's disgusting.  Completely disgusting.  I mean, SERIOUSLY?  Why won't they go away?"

I feel the same way about January...it can go away.  Like now.

I'm dreaming tonight of anything to distract me from my January blues....

The Olympics
Lucy's birthday
Spring
Vacation
No more diapers
Death to stinkbugs

Improving Crazytown

Well, 2013 has come and gone, and 2014 will hopefully be even more full of life, laughter and mayhem.

In 2013:
I walked a 5k for Multiple Sclerosis

I was chased by bees through the woods
I watched my brother marry the love of his life

I drove 11 hours to see Justin Bieber in concert
I missed seeing Justin Bieber the next day at the Columbus zoo by 20 minutes

I celebrated my step daughter's graduation from high school

I became the Service Unit Manager for Girl Scouts in my town
 

I turned 40
I started a blog
I slacked off on my blogging





In 2014:

I will jog a 5k, or several of them
I will continue to take the girl scouts to fun activities, with an epi pen for now on, just in case

I will renovate both the baby's bedroom and my living room
I will stop calling my almost 2 year old "the baby"
I will continue to work with Girl Scouts, Relay for Life, Autism Speaks and other charitable groups
I will live a healthier lifestyle, eating and exercising for a long, long life
I will watch Abby head to high school in the fall, and probably have a nervous breakdown
I will blog more


Stay tuned, the fun never stops around here...unless it's 3:00 am and the baby  Lucy is still awake  - then NO ONE is having any fun.

Happy New Year, 2014.

RIP, Larry

When did it become customary to list your "Dislikes" next to your "Likes" in an obituary?

Direct quote from an obituary in today's local paper:

"Larry disliked beets, drive thrus, musicals and Jane Fonda."
(Yes, Larry was a Vietnam Vet, in case you were wondering)

This has me wondering what I hate enough to request that it be listed in my obituary.

Yardwork.
Bees.
Ray Lewis.
Soccer.  (Known in my house as the "S word")
Pea soup.

What's on YOUR list?

22 years ago

I have a "dark day".  It's September 2nd.

22 years ago, the phone rang and my world collapsed.

It wasn't even my phone, it was a pay phone.

It was my freshman year in college and my room didn't have phone service yet, so I would get a phone call every night from my mom.

I couldn't figure out why she was calling me this night though.  She had just dropped me off that day, Labor Day, after 3 days at home with friends and family.

"I have bad news", she said.

"Grandpa's dead.", I said.  One of my worst fears.

"No, it's Brian."  I think I was held up off the ground, by the phone cord.

His name was Brian Wilhelm and he was my world.  He was funny, charming, and flawed.  He was 10 years older than me, but I loved him.  We both thought he was invincible.  

And he was killed by his best friend who was drinking and driving.

Make good choices, everyone.  Don't create a dark day for someone who loves you.

Rest in peace, Willie.  I miss you very much.  Every time I pick up a friend at a bar to give them a safe ride home, I do it in your honor.

To the Point

Lucy is reaching for a bag of BarBQue potato chips.

I say to her "Momma, can I have a chip, please?  Use one of those words to get a chippie, Lucy."

She looks at me and says "Yum."



Close enough, kiddo.  Close enough.

Hey Mom...

Heard at my house today...

"Hey Mom - was Justin Bieber at Selena Gomez's birthday party?"
"I don't know, buddy...I wasn't invited."

Jumble Madness

Abby loves doing the jumble in the newspaper.  Today she asked for some help.

"Mom - the 5 letters are P...U...Y...S...."  (What the ...???)

"and O."



Yeah...that's "SOUPY"....close one.

Yep, no doubt about it

Lucy is standing up, bent in half, with her head resting on a chair, farting and laughing.

Yeah...no DNA test required....she's mine.

Lookie Loos

Crazytown has relocated for the week...in other words, we are on vacation.

On our second day of vacation, we met up with some members of my family for lunch and a trip to the local zoo.  We decided on McDonalds for lunch and due to the warm weather, decided to eat inside.

There were 7 of us:
myself, Rob, Abby, Lucy
a new friend who is a 7 year old girl, and
my aunt and uncle.

We ate lunch rather quietly for such a large group.  When we were leaving, I noticed that nearly every person in the room was openly staring at us.  (Rob noticed too)

I have had people look at us before, sometimes they think Rob is someone famous (he's been accused of being a former professional athlete) or sometimes when one of the kids is disruptive, but I ABSOLUTELY believe we were being stared at because we were with a biracial couple.  I asked my aunt, who said that in the neighborhood we were in, that was likely the case.  Sad.

Get over it, people.  My aunt and uncle have been married for nearly 40 years and have been living in your town for 24 years.

If I had a few more days, I would organize a flash mob of gay couples (some of them with different skin colors too) in the parking lot to really freak out the lookie-loos from McDonalds.

Tolerance and acceptance for everyone.  Get on board.

what the What?

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I still laugh...

Before I begin this story, I want to state in advance that I received my father's permission to share this hysterical tale.  My dad told me this story several years ago and when I think of it, I still laugh.  I hope you also enjoy it.

My dad is a funny guy.  He loves corny jokes and puns.  In fact, one might say he is "punny".  And if they did, he'd probably chuckle.  Dad is a big guy.  He once towered over us at 6'4", but 60 some years of hard work now have him closer to 6'1".  He fluctuates between a 2X and a 3X.

So one day, my dad goes into the bathroom and takes a shower.  He steps out of the shower onto a bathmat and pulls his towel off the rack.  He begins to dry his body, and bends over to dry his feet.  While he is drying his feet, the shower curtain finds it's way between his butt cheeks.  After his feet are dry, he straightens up, the shower curtain stays in it's new invasive home and my father rips the entire shower curtain off the hanger.  With his ass cheeks.

I'll wait while you stop laughing.




Last week, on Father's Day, I asked my dad if I could share this story.  Later that day, my cousin passed away and it didn't seem appropriate to share at that time.  My extended family has spent a few days together, mourning the loss of my cousin and then attempting to enjoy a rare weekend together.  Many times will come when life punches you in the gut, and when it does, I hope you think of dad, laughing in the bathroom, shower curtain rings flying.

Picture this

I've been neglecting this blog...sorry, just busy here in Crazytown.

Today, Rob takes my cellphone and says "Oh so Lucy is your picture on your one screen and Abby is on the other screen.  Why don't you have any pictures of me on here?"

"I do have pictures of you.  One where you were carrying groceries and your pants fell down around your ankles.  And another when you went grocery shopping and didn't wear a shirt, just a zipped up jacket and shorts.  And the one when Lucy barfed on your nipple and it looked like you were lactating...

...I'm a horrible wife."

"Yep."

Quit bashing my home!

Bashing the underdog is easy.  Too easy.

This is frequent lately when referring to my hometown, and by "hometown" - I mean the city I was born, raised in and continue to live in.

Yes, our city isn't "the way it used to be".  Not many cities are.

We do have drugs, prostitution and buildings in disrepair.
We also have businesses popping up, eyesores being demolished and some people with an extreme pride for their neighborhood.

A local PTA recently got an entire playground build from the ground up, with the hard work from not only parents and teachers, but with financial AND physical assistance from local businesses and clubs.

Yes, we have crime.  A man robbed a local bank a week or so ago.
That man was arrested less than 10 minutes later with the help from local witnesses who were brave enough to give information to the police.

We have people like Mr. Rowe, who taught at our high school for many years and continues to teach into his retirement through his involvement with the Community Center.  He taught history, but more importantly, he taught things like dignity, respect and pride.

I am proud of my town.  Proud of people like the late Grace Girardi who organized a Veterans Day parade from her hospital bed.  I'm proud that when I once called City Hall with a question, the Mayor personally called me back and had the answers I needed.

I'm proud to be from the town where the great Willie Thrower was born.  I'm proud of the statue that stands in his honor at our football field.  I'm proud to have served many cups of coffee to Willie and to have had the opportunity to hold my tiny hand up against his giant palm.  Those great hands were and ARE the pride of New Kensington.  (Don't know about Willie - go google him)

My grandparents on both sides raised their families in New Kensington.  My grandpa on my mother's side owned a restaurant and fed many hungry families.  Our priest sent anyone with a hungry belly to Andy's restaurant and we welcomed them with open arms.  And when he was done serving his customers, he cooked for church functions.  I cannot serve canned green beans without thinking of the yearly dinner for 200 that my family prepared and served for the Anointing of the Sick mass.  It was service to the community - and you did it, without complaint.  I loved serving those meals - I felt like a celebrity being associated with Fran Datres.

My grandmother on my father's side was a girl scout leader, boy scout den mother, raised 6 children and organized crafts at the local park for FUN.  We would do crafts at the park and then the library lending bus would stop by to loan us books.  She also wrote, typed and delivered the neighborhood news letter, on her down time.  Her "down time" - quite a fallacy, Mary Elston never stopped moving.

These people are no longer around, but many like them exist.  KS and JR - girl scout volunteers whose own daughters graduated high school over 10 and 20 years ago, but they continue to volunteer.  KM - who has organized the local fireworks display for years.  There are many, many more I could mention.

New Kensington's citizens are ready to take back the streets from the crime and drugs.  Complaining isn't getting us any closer to "the way things used to be".  Getting off our butts and doing something might just get us back to where we were.

And with any luck, we might just get better than we used to be.

And that would make Willie Thrower, Eddie Adams and my grandparents even prouder to be from New Kensington.