Look what I found today. Cute green, blue and pinky fabric. And what, you ask, will I be doing with this? You'll just have to wait and see.
But here's a hint.
I learned how to do a set -in elastic waist. 
I love the internet. You can learn anything.
We did something we've been wanting to do for a long time. On Saturday, after the kayak voyage, we loaded up the coolah, and headed over to slum it gangsta style in Zion on the beach of Lake Michigan. I'll be honest, it's a little scary over there. But that never stops us from having a great time. We were blessed with Kate and Pat's presence, and had some good laughs, mostly at their expense.
See that blue chair crumpled up on the ground back there? Yeah, Pat broke that one as he sat down. Oops. Now look more closely at Kate's perch. Yeah, she sat down and busted right through the fabric on that chair, too! Now if that had been me, I would have had the lowest self esteem moment of my life. Not that it would have been the first time I'd broken a chair, but that a whole nother post. But Kate, she just sat there and took the jokes. She's a trooper. A Super Trouper, maybe?
See that huge resort in the background? Doesn't that look like a nice place to spend the weekend? I don't think it's a place you'll be making a reservation at any time soon. It's a nuclear (nucular? GW Bush, anyone?) power plant. You'd think that would make the water a little warmer, no? No. Still freezing. I think the icebergs just melted last week, though.
Here's Maggie and her long lost twin, Madison. These two are soul sisters. They dress alike. They act alike. They're almost 2 years apart, but sometimes we can't tell them apart from afar.
And here's jungle Sean. As soon as he lied down, the kids were all over him. Notice Cayden (I fixed it, are you happy now?) head over heels over him. He thought that was pretty neat, and I think Sean liked the idea of having a boy to play with for a change. Don't get any ideas, that's not happening.
So aside from hanging in satellite Ensenada, and watching all the kids bathe in their Spiderman undies, and the freezing cold water and rocky shore, and biting flies and sand in every morsel of food, we had a pretty good time. Next time, no food items at all. Especially of the chocolate variety. Too sticky.
One of the benefits of having your customized road bike stolen out of your garage in the middle of the day is the fact that the insurance company is very kind, and gives you a big fat check. The other benefit is that you can choose if you want your butt to be sore after a ride, or your arms, neck, back, and abs to be sore after a paddle. 
I chose the latter. This is moi, paddling out on our lake. It was a gloomy, overcast day, with a brisk wind, and only in the 60's. Meg, you would have hated it. Me, I was in heaven. I paddled out to the island, around the other side, and back again. Only an hour voyage, but we had other things to do that day.
And here's what the kidlets did whilst I paddled away. Don't worry, I didn't just leave them alone on the beach. Obviously, since someone had to be there to take the pictures. Sean stayed on shore (he's not an agua lover) and made sand castles and rivers with the girls. Here you can see Gretta does not share his fear of the water.
And Emma showing off her Olympic debut. I remember doing this when I was a kid. We called them "cherry drops". Jill was always way better at them than I was. She was better at a lot of things than I was. Still is. Man, I miss you guys.
Anyhoo, I love the kayak. Love.it. There is just something about being out on the water, nothing but me and the waves, the sound of the paddle slicing through the water, and knowing that I can be out there as long as my heart desires. Or until the kids are ready to leave.
I admit it. It's hard. It's hard blogging, and posting adorable pictures of my adorable kids. (I'm humble, what can I say.) It's hard knowing that my mom won't be on the other side of this blog to appreciate all the latest upgrades. She won't be there seeing Gretta's curls. Or the fact that she only has 3 teeth on the bottom. 
She won't be there to see Maggie's big blue eyes, and strong lips. She won't be sitting in her office chair, taking a break from the latest phone call, or game of Free Cell, to take a look, and be transported to my world for just a few minutes through this blog.
It almost makes we want to stop blogging.
For some reason it just feels more empty now. Don't get me wrong, I blogged long before my mom ever even knew the internet existed for things other than porn. (Wait, that makes it sound like all she did was look at porn. She never looked at porn. She just thought only sickos used the internet, not good upstanding moms like us.) And before she read this blog, it made me feel more fulfilled just because I was keeping a journal for myself. But now, since she used to read and comment every day, I feel like I'm not even blogging for me anymore. I used to look so forward to the latest pic or story I would post, because I knew it would make her day. And maybe make her less mad at me for moving away. I guess I'm just in a blog funk. Bear with me.
I just know this picture would make her day. Little footprints down the driveway. And for anyone that knows my mom, knows how much she loved the poem "Footprints", so it's just perfect. So mom, this one's for you. I love you. And I miss you every day.
Again, sorry for the sad, lame-o post. Stay tuned later this week for some mad beach action, the Latin Festival, the Maiden Kayak Voyage, and the Aquarium. I know, you're on the edge of your seats.
Alrighty. It's been a long, gluttonous summer. A diet of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups (mmm), and Diet Pepsi does not a flattering figure make. So it was off to exercise class again. It's the getting there that's the hard part. No, I don't have to scale large mountains, or cross large rivers. I don't even have to pull a handcart or walk, for that matter. I get to drive my comfy Vangina a total of 2 miles, to a nice air conditioned church cultural hall. But still, it's, um, harrrd.
But I made it.
And when we arrived, it seemed the door was locked. But there were kids in there! It took them a few minutes to realize there were no parents around. I guess the key-lady opened the door, the kids ran in, she reached back out to get her new baby, priorities!, and the door was closed. Oops. I saw it as a sign that we should go back to bed. Nobody else really did. Losers.
So we did a little jumping and kicking and stretching to a very cool mix of excellent 80's music. I love some of those songs, they bring back the best memories of sitting in my brothers room in the basement, it had carpeted walls!, and thinking I was da bomb because he was (is) so cool.
And then, on the way home (not really on the way, more like the total opposite way but whatever), I had to stop and get a $1 large Diet Coke. I mean, come on people, I can't just give it up cold turkey. Remember, I've tried that, and lasted approximately 2 hours. But here is proof that I can still stretch. Yes, that is my leg all the way up on the counter top. I guess the exercise thing isn't so bad. I just need the getting there part to be better.
Yesterday I was an uber motivated mom. G woke up all sorts of pissed, which I don't really understand, seeing as she's sleeping with a cashmere blanket these days. Really, cashmere. I wouldn't leave my bed. Anyhoo, she was mad at the world, and ended up going right back down for a nap. Meanwhile, a neighbor kid came to play with Mags. This is wonderful because then I have more time to blog, play solitaire, and download music. Not that I neglect them or anything, but they just entertain eachother so well, they don't really need me. Unless we have a pee-your-pants incident, and then I'm so there with new undies and shorts.
Okay, on with it. Comcast had to make their seemingly bi-monthly visit to fix my internet. I know! While they were here, I swept and mopped the floors, chatted with Kate and Dubyah, and folded 2 loads of laundry! After that, G woke up, much better I might add, although I'm sure the big dose of Tylenol helped, and the kids were super sweaty and stinky. What's an uber motivated mom to do?
No, it's not that kind of birthday booty, sicko's.
I was treated to a very very sweet necklace courtesy of Laura, and her renowned gift giving skills. This is a wish necklace, from Dogeared jewelry. Seriously, she knows all the newest, trendiest, funnest, most appropriate gifts to give. 
How cute is that? And I'm not talking about that mole, or "beauty mark", under my chins. I mean the necklace. Have you ever tried to take a picture of your neck? Not an easy task. 
No, it' s not a pair of testicles dangling from a noose. Sorry. It's cherries. On a silk thread. You make a wish when you put it on, and when the thread breaks, your wish will come true. Hopefully the thread will break and those 40 pounds will come off before, say, Christmas? That would be awesome.
So thanks, BFF. You rule.
What does this look like to you? Am I showing off my pedicure? Nope. Am I showing off the last remaining skinny part of my body? A little. But mostly I'm showing you my dance. Yes, as you may remember from last year, it's the annual "Back to School Shout for Joy, and Dance on the Table". Today is THE day.
I'm so glad to be back home, and getting into a routine. Early to bed, and all that jazz.
I'm also very, very sad. Yesterday we went school shopping. Nothing like leaving it to the very last minute, eh? Anyhoo, Maggie got these sweet light up Care Bears shoes. She loves them. My first thought in seeing her run so fast in her new shoes? Call Mom. Yep. And this morning after I dropped Emma off at school, I actually picked up my cell phone to call her. Do you think this will ever end? Part of me hopes so, and part of me hopes not.
Emma and her first day of school photo. The first one in front of our new house.
Also, dear reader(s), this new schedule brings me back to my (almost) daily postings. Thanks for the patience and support over the last few weeks of summer. I plan on returning with stories and hopefully more pictures than words.
All righty, dear reader(s), you've redeemed yourselves. I'm rather impressed that you would take my challenge and run (or drive) with it. Good job.
Moving on.
I missed a very important date on this here blog. I missed Emma's birthday! Well, I didn't miss it miss it, but I missed posting about it. It was on the 1st, and she is now a ripe old 9. I am honestly crazy surprised that I have a 9 year old. I mean to think I have kept a human being alive long enough to make it to 9 is shocking in itself, but then to look back at how fast it went, that's even more shocking. Seriously, wasn't I just changing her diaper, and then sending her to preschool, and then watching her ride the school bus for the first time? Yeah, I'm pretty sure that all happened yesterday.
For her birthday, she totally scored in the gift department. First of all, Sugar Daddy was here. That was a great treat for all of us. She also got "Rub-N-Color", which is pretty cool, and then there was the LPS VIP. You mom's all know what that is, right? And we gave her a $100 gift card to Kohl's, so she can pick out a new backpack for school, and also buy some useless crap that will be lost or broken in 3 days time. Sugar Daddy also has another big surprise for her when we get home. She'll just have to wait.
All in all, it was a great day. We went to the zoo the day before, but that is definitely going to be a whole nother post, considering I was the one who was marked for death after that trip.
That's more of a statement than a question, for sure. I'm referring to my previous post. I was so excited to see what my dear reader(s) dream cars were, conjuring up images of fast sports cars and pimped out SUV's. I'm sad to report I got a total of 4 actual car responses.
So COME ON PEOPLE, use those thinking caps, or at least find out what your hubbies would want you driving around town.
Do you need a little inspiration? Okee dokee.
Meg says she needs a car for each day and each outfit, but she would take an Audi A4 convertible for Sunday drives. Good girl.
Kelli needs a blinged out wagon to haul her kids around in, and it must be very, very speedy. An Audi S4 Avant. Nice.
Heidi would take a cute little Itty Bitty BMW with which she can weave in and out of traffic. I concur.
And Laryl said a Mercedes SLK 230. I like specifics.
Would you like to know my list of must haves? Of course you do!
It's my birthday. Yay. I'm 32. Not old, not young. I'm officially middle aged. And if you consider the fact that my sweet mom didn't even make it to 60, I'm past middle aged. Does that give me permission to run out and buy a new sports car? Okay.
If you had enough money to buy what ever car you wanted, and could only pick one, what would it be?
Let's also consider you had enough money to pay the gas and insurance and other incidentals. That's just to get all you "realists" involved. Live a little.
This is the speech I was asked to give at my mom's funeral yesterday. When she asked all of us kids to speak, I was a little shocked, seeing as it's me and all, and I tend to say exactly what she doesn't want me to say. But I figured she must really want me there, and how could I deny her her dying wish? Some of the references are to inside jokes, so you may not understand. The hump refers to my buffalo hump on my back, it always sweats. The sweaty eyeballs are because I don't cry, my eyes sweat. So here it is. Enjoy.
This summer our family took a vacation. Not the kind of vacation that involved sun, or sand, or even a tropical Wal-Mart. It was a completely different kind of vacation. This vacation consisted of finding the meanings of colors. Let's call it cancer summer camp. None of us wanted to go there. We were afraid of what we might find. But once we got there, we had the time of our lives.
The first color we discovered was Yellow. Also referred to as flavescent, sallow, or xanthous. But we'll just stick with yellow for ease and proper pronunciation. Normally associated with flowers or the sun or a baby blanket, our yellow became a frightening signal that life was about to change. We knew that things would be different from then on, but we had no idea how. After a weekend of joking about sharing bottled water and spoons, and contracting the dreaded yellow, things suddenly felt different, and we knew it was time for answers.
The next color we explored was black. The telephone that taunted us late into the night was black. Finally it rang, and all I could see were black ants circling on the floor as I heard words coming from the receiver. I felt the blackness of unconsciousness encroach, but it was staved off by sheer determination to get answers. Blackness of night, as we sat rocking in the swing outside, crying, groaning, and even laughing. Blackness of sleep, welcome yet disturbing all together.
Blue. Mom's favorite color. Dad has blue eyes, I know she always loved them. The hospital had blue carpeting in the hallway, and we brought her her favorite blue robe. The now infamous "Cancer Sucks" pin, written in blue was pinned on, and never left. The scrubs on the doctors and nurses were blue, and they whirred in and out as the days passed by. The sunny blue sky outside the hospital room window seemed to be ever present, somehow keeping us all in a better mood.
As we saw how all these colors became representative of an emotion or condition, we each began to take on our own roles. We suddenly became aware of the years, yes years, some of which may have involved me making out with one of our male nurses 15 years or so ago, of preparation that have taken place to bring us to this very moment in our lives.
Meg became our personal assistant. She was ever willing to run errands, make phone calls, and chat with visitors. She knew when something needed to be picked up, washed, or dropped off. And it was always done in high style.
Jill is the proxy mom. She cleaned up the house for Frieda, ushered muddy kids back outside to wash off, provided towels and swimsuits effortlessly, and kept the groceries stocked. She even shops like mom, up and down each aisle, picking the perfect bag of ranch rolls and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.
Troy became the favorite. I only say became, because after all these years of us knowing it, Mom finally admitted it. And we completely agree. Troy is the rock. He says the right thing. He knows when it's time for a time out, and he makes things happen. But he is the most tender hearted, and finds inspiration among daily life. He held mom's hand, kissed her cheek, and gently guided her where she needed to be. A true gentleman.
I, of course, became the meek one. Humble, and quiet, I kept the air of reverence abounding. Even though no one but Mom could ever understand my problem with heat, I think we crossed over that hump. I'm fairly sure it was I that got us kicked out of the hospital. Twice. I'm also fairly sure it was I that invented sweaty eyeballs. One thing I know for certain, is no matter how flabbergasted mom pretended to be at my latest "too much information" comment, she knew she was thinking it, and I was the only one that dared say it. I hope she is thankful for that.
As our roles became more established, our summer camp continued. More colors were to be found and mapped.
Purple. Bright, vibrant, elegant. The color of choice for my wedding day, and many others in the early 90's. Not exactly the first color you think about when you hear the word cancer. But from now on, purple will represent the fight against pancreatic cancer that mom fought so well.
Gray. Those last few days were shrouded in a mist of gray. Unanswered questions, words left unsaid, and looks of pity filled our minds with confusion. Was it time? Was she ready? There was so much gray area that we all had an opinion. Dad knew. And he fought hard for what he knew. It was time to make that call, and she was ready for whatever lay ahead.
That gray area was the hardest day of my life. Inspiration was not hard to find that day, but still it became easy to dismiss. It was no accident that we were all in the same place at the same time that afternoon. It was no accident that as we lay at her bedside getting in those last precious moments, the kids entertained themselves effortlessly, leaving us with more precious time than we ever expected.
White. Pure, peaceful, graceful, cleansing, final. The heaven on earth we knew it would be. Mom fought a good fight. She fought hard, but knew when it was time to surrender. I think Troy said it best when he said some people are just too good for this earth. Mom is definitely one of those people. She was too good to too many. She worked hard, and prepared us well, and we are so proud of the life she lived. "Birth and death, near and far, it all depends on where you are." Carol Lynn Pearson.
As we depart this summer camp, we are grateful for the weeks we spent with each other. We were so scared of what we may find, but as it turned out, it was one of the best experiences of my life.
Wow. This has been an eye opening week. You wouldn't believe the amount of vegetables I've consumed this week. Seriously, this never happens. I have a fear of veggies. And fruit. Especially fruit. Unless it's in a shake or baked into a pie. In those cases I love it! But veggies are scary. I'm so afraid that they will taste warm or gushy or rotten. It only takes once, people.
But this week has been one for the record books. I think it has to do with cafeteria salad bars. I've been frequenting those as of late. We even ate outside at the hospital yesterday, how very Grey's Anatomy of us. But this doesn't just end with my consumption of veggies. I know! It gets better.
I ran today. And no, I wasn't being chased. I deliberately ran. I think I got my heart rate up and even perspired a little too. But oh no, there is more! I deliberately ran, and then people, I got on my bike and rode! Oh, yes I did. And I plan to ride again later today. I know! So, if only I could swim a few laps today, I would have done the lazy white girl version of a triathlon.
So if I only do two of those events, does that make it a Di? I like the sound of that.
I admit it, I've seen this movie twice.
And I'd see it again. 
And I like to be happy.
Setting: Watching TV last night. A commercial for some anti-aging miracle face cream comes on. It's the one with Diane Keaton, whom I love, by the way.
Maggie: Wow, mom, you should try that stuff for your face.
Me: Oh yeah? Why?
Maggie: Because then you wouldn't get all those moles on your face.
Me: Really? What moles?
Maggie: You know, pointing all over her face, The ones right here and here and here and here, and everywhere.
Me: Oh, you mean zits.
Maggie: Yeah, zits. Long dramatic pause. Mom?
Me: What?
Maggie: Will I get lots of zits when I'm a mom, too?
Me: Nope. You'll always have perfect skin. Sigh.
I guess this is where I 'splain 'bout my face. I'm stressed. Waaayyy stressed. And we all know what comes along with stress. Zits. And then I eat crap like Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and Noma's home made awesome chocolate chip cookies, and drink too much Diet Pepsi. And I wonder why I have zits? Maybe I should get some of that magic face cream.
Okay, I'm terribly sorry about the melancholy mood of the blog as of late. You can certainly understand, but we all know that is not my nature. So let's go, and get off this sad train, and have some fun, shall we? I borrowed this from Carli, thanks to her, and I think it should conjure up some wickedly fun comments.
Please comment below, and include your favorite memory of me. I realize some of us haven't met, or haven't seen each other in years, so feel free to make something up, or to reference your favorite post of mine. I realize this may take some work, but I need some serious comment mojo right about now.
