Ok, we have a dog, a mutt really, named Lucy. She is a pain most of the time.  She steals toys and things that are not hers and chews them to bits.  when she was a puppy, I can’t tell you how many pairs of my daughter’s shoes were destroyed by those little teeth!

So for her to do something naughty is not beyond the realm of possibility.  Flash back with me, to Thanksgiving, just a few days ago.  My daughter was beautiful in a denim patchwork jumper and white cable-knit tights.  Really adorable.  She went outside to play in the back yard.  She knew what she could and couldn’t do out there, i.e., no playing in the sandbox but she could swing. 

She had been outside for about ten minutes and came running in, “Mom!  Lucy has my tights!’

“What?  How did Lucy get your tights?” A brand-new, only worn once before pair of tights, I might add.

‘She took them off of me!’

“Excuse me?  LUCY took your tights off?”

“Yes! Lucy took my tights off!’

“How on earth did Lucy, the dog who has no opposable thumbs, take off your tights?”

“I don’t know, but she did and she won’t give them back!’

I went outside and sure enough, the dog is running around playing her ‘chase me’ game with my daughter’s tights.  Anna and I cornered the mutt and got the tights back.  They were dirty, to be expected, but unfortunately, there was a large hole in the side of the calf. Great.  Brand new freaking pair of tights destroyed.  She never would ‘fess up to it, but she did get in trouble for it.  I don’t appreciate spending money on something like that, only to have her ruin them the second time she wears them.

I’m telling ya, never a dull moment at our house!

Tanjil. You will believe a horse can cry.

By Christi Wales, Accountant and Mother.

For her twelfth birthday, I took my daughter Dana to Judy Oldmeadow’s Morgan Horse Farm.

I never thought it’d be an amazing, life-changing day for me.

We began by bringing all the mares and foals to the round yard to see how they interacted with toys and us. Dana sat in the yard and the foals loved her, perhaps because she’s young too.

Judy and I noticed that one mare, Folie, was overprotective of her foal, Echo. The poor thing wanted to play, but Folie wouldn’t let him. So we joined Dana and I spent some time massaging Folie all over – which she loved. Before long, she let me near Echo and encouraged him to interact with me.

I held out my hand and let Echo toddle past me, just brushing his back to get him used to my touch. I then massaged some of the other mares. With three children myself, I figured they’d like their necks, backs and rumps massaged.

After a while, Folie was so relaxed that Echo was able to break away and play. It was a fantastic sight that I was proud to be part of. I kept massaging the mares, plus any foals that approached.

Then Tanjil decided that no other mare could have me.

I’d rub her and try to move on, but she’d come next to me, right near the other horse. Though she didn’t touch the horse, it knew she was boss and walked away.

At first I thought it was funny. Why did Tanjil want me to herself? She did it again and again with every other horse I tried to rub.

My hands were getting sore and Folie was giving her foal a chance to explore. So I decided to wait to see what happened. Well, little Echo headed in my direction with his mum’s full support – a fantastic breakthrough for both of them.

A bit later, Echo was hanging around so I gave him a rub and Tanjil just stood near me. I found it strange; had I done something wrong? Then Tanjil came and stood with her head right over me.

I started rubbing her neck thinking, ‘Why me? Was I was a strong leader? Did she feel I was a strong mother?’

Being a mother is hard. Sometimes I feel I don’t have the strength. But I find it and keep going. If I don’t, no-one else will do the things I must do to keep my family safe, together and running smoothly.

I don’t get a break from being leader of my herd. At times I hate being the one who has to pull rank, keep everyone in line and be tough to be kind in the long run.

At that moment my emotions overwhelmed me. With her fantastic intuition, Judy yelled out that the last time Tanjil had stood this way with her, it’d made her feel like everything was going to be OK.

I glanced at her and nodded; a huge lump in my throat. Then my tears flowed.

I looked at Tanjil and couldn’t believe what I saw. She was crying with me! Not just watery eyes; these were full tears, rolling down her face, one after another along with mine.

Was I delusional? No. This magnificent mare was helping me with my doubts as a mother. I thought then that maybe she also felt the pressure of being the leader who kept her herd in line.

Tanjil gave me what I never got from my mother. What I needed to know when I became a mother myself: I’m a good mum. It won’t be easy, but it’ll be OK. We can only do our best. We make mistakes, but that’s OK too.

I then thought that maybe Tanjil also needed reassurance that she was a great mum and leader. Because when I saw her with her foal and the herd, it was exactly how I felt.

I’ll never know if she felt my empathy. I’d not seen a miracle before, but that’s the only word I can use.

I have a horse named Major. When Judy took Dana and me to the rest of the herd, Major stayed with me while the other horses went to the car.

He was so affectionate. I was rubbing his body when he moved – uncomfortable with the slope. I thought he was going to walk away but he simply ambled to level ground and waited for me.

I hugged his neck and said I loved him, that he was a good boy and that I wished I could see him every day. As he wrapped his head around me, a tear rolled down his face.

It was very moving. I remembered that Major had lost his mum when very young. Maybe he perceived my feelings of abandonment.

Had I not experienced my miracle with Tanjil, I wouldn’t have thought a horse could cry.

Now I know they feel pain, sadness and love.

Ok.

First let me state for the record that I love my mother very much. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t have had the reaction that I had on Friday.

So Friday afternoon, Chief closed the shop early and we went for a ride out to a local farmer’s market. While there, my cell phone rings and it’s my mother. She immediately starts telling me something about my grandmother’s heating bill and some application that they never received from the gas company.

Had a great Thanksgiving.. thanks for asking, Mom.

So I tell her that I wasn’t home but when I did get home I’d call her and look up whatever information she needed online. She asks where we’re at and I tell her.

HER: Make sure you buy me something nice for Christmas.

ME: What are you Spaz? What do you mean make sure I buy you something nice for Christmas?

HER: Just what I said.

ME: Are you implying that I don’t buy you something nice for Christmas?

HER: Well, just make sure it’s from a nice store and not from the farmer’s market.

I was like, are you fucking kidding me? It may not seem like a big deal in print, but you had to hear the tone in her voice and the little sarcastic “hmph”.

And the thing is, I never shorted her on a gift.. regardless of what my financial situation was.. and now this year, since I’ve been laid off and money is tight I’m already feeling guilty that I have to be extra frugal and can’t go all out like I used to do. I figured people would understand.. I figured MY FAMILY would understand because really, when the hell did the true meaning of Christmas become how much money you spent on a gift?

IN FACT .. this year, I was going to get her one of those 200.00 laptops.

Key word: WAS

It just really got under my skin and really fucked up the rest of my day.

So when I got home, I called her like I said I was going to but was my usually chippy self. She picked up on it right away and asked me if I was mad about something.

But the WAY she asked it lit the neon sign that made it clear that she knew exactly what was bothering me.

So I tell her that I was upset.. that her comment about her Christmas gift had hurt my feelings.

Her reaction would have made you think that I was accusing her of smuggling drugs in puppy belly’s or something.

She said she was only joking :: of course she was only joking. .that’s EVERYBODY’S excuse when they say something that hurts somebody else’s feelings :: and that there must be something else bothering me. I told her there wasn’t.. she got all defensive again and pulled out her violin. She said that everybody can tease but her.. which is bullshit and I told her that. Then she said, “.. OH, GO FIND A JOB”.

Like.. what the FUCK?

What the FUCK does THAT have to do with anything?

By then, the wall went up and I was like, “.. yea. Find a job. Real nice.”

I didn’t even want to talk to her anymore. So I told her that the online application that I filled out was submitted and hung up.

Chief knew how upset I was.. and he was getting upset for me. Especially the whole job thing.. because she will never accept that working in the shop that I OWN is work. And that gets under his skin big time.

The thing is.. when your a child, you see your parents as “parents”.. but when your older and see your parents as the adults that they are, you also see their flaws.

My mother is, deep down, a good hearted person. She’s generous and funny and devout. But she’s also very judgmental, negative and opinionated on things she has no business having an opinion on.

She uses the fact that I’m her daughter as an excuse to say and do whatever it is she says and does and thinks it automatically gives her a free pass.

And it doesn’t.

Because there is never a justification to hurt someone’s feelings and not own up to it.

I am very proud of my daughter who just recently launched her singing career for juggling her entertainment career and her family and for doing a great job.

http://www.MusicaDePrishka.com

This site is exclusively for bragging purposes. Is there someone you are really proud of? Is there that guy or gal that has you going crazy and you just can’t seem to stop talking about him or her? What about your faithful dog, did he or she doing something totally awesome? Did your son or daughter bring home those straight A’s? Perhaps you are proud of your Mom or Your Dad. Whatever you feel like sharing, you can post it here.  Have fun!  Know that this is the type of energy that brings a warm fuzzy feeling in our hearts.

World's worst dog, clearly disappointed in her mom for her poor goal completion

Well, these goals just aren’t going too well.  Not well at all, actually.  A quick summary of my progress, or lack thereof:

1 – Do something nice for our neighbors. Nope.  Oh, unless you count the incredible self-control I exercised in not staring at our creepy neighbor for more than a few seconds as he angrily paced his yard today.  (Normally I stare through the windows for a few minutes at least, trying to figure out what in the hell he’s doing out there.  What are you doing, neighbor?  Why not mow your lawn now, when it’s light out?  You’re outside, you’re not doing anything except angrily pacing…why wait until dark to mow?  So weird.)

2 – Exercise. Nope.  Well, that’s not entirely true.  I did climb up to the attic about 100 times yesterday to bring down boxes of holiday decorations.

3 – Make a pie crust from scratch.  I’ve already admitted to failing on this one.  However, I did make the chocolate-bourbon-pecan filling and it was divine.

4 – Donate some time and take my daughter along for the ride. Not yet.  However, I will complete this goal at least once in December.  I promise.

5 – Donate to soldiers. As above.

6 – Perform random acts of kindness. Sadly, not yet.  At least, I don’t think so.  In my defense, I have been shut in the house with the flu since Wednesday afternoon.

7 – Eat breakfast.  I’ve started doing this.  Breakfast bars, mainly.

8 – Make all kinds of trifle. I’m not worried about this one.  There will be trifles-a-plenty in December.

9 – Watch my favorite Christmas movies. Yep.  I did have Holiday Inn on in the background today as I made dinner.  It was, as expected, as good as ever.

10 – Give my husband some kind of meaningful gift. I still have a few weeks to work on this one, but I’m stumped.   Must keep mulling this over.  I welcome suggestions (read: I am really stumped).

I’m not giving up.  I will complete these goals this December.

So, my hope is that you’ll read this update and say to yourself, “hey, there’s an honest lady who’s trying to do the right thing but has no problem admitting when she falls short.  I like her.”  Please don’t go for the other option and say to yourself, “hey, there’s one lazy lady with some serious trust issues when it comes to her neighbors”.  Now, the latter part of that last option may be true.  As for the former part, I swear I’m not lazy.  I’m just a regular lady with the flu (who is great at rationalizing).

Heidi Klum’s husband, singer Seal, posted photos of their new daughter Lou Suola on his website, www.Seal.com. In the family portraits, baby Lou is shown with her mother, her father, and in one shot she’s surrounded by her three older siblings — Leni, 5, Henry, 4 and Johan, 3.

Our Christmas tree this year. We changed up the theme!

So, I’m sitting at my parent’s house on their PC while I enjoy my time off this week! And if you already don’t know, how absolutely uberly, insanely excited I am for the holidays. It’s not even about gifts. I mean, I absoloutely adore giving them but if I don’t recieve… Well, I’m perfectly content with that.

Although that is never the case.

To me, Christmas is about having everyone home for once and the bustle of everyday life almost slows down. Even if it’s just a few paces but we are able to spend relaxed times together and create many memories for years to come. I also love seeing the glow of the Christmas lights, the smell of Christmas cookies baking, that feeling you get Christmas morning when you see your child and loved ones open their gifts with excitement, surprise and happiness!

Can’t be beat.

Anyways, this year will be great. As every year with Hubby, Gabs and the fam has been. Preparation for baby is well under way, just yesterday Gabriella was super excited to buy a warm coat onesie thingie to bring baby home in. She was super proud and so was I. She is going to be a great big sister. I have been gifted with such a kind-hearted and well-behaved daughter. Truly, I can truly say that.

Anyways, I have been doing lots of shopping the last few weeks and I think this week I shall be done! Which is exciting. I also have my OB appointment coming up as well as my 3D/4D ultrasound. I can’t wait! This baby keeps me on my toes though, always kicking which although at times painful, a relief. I know the baby is doing well! I wonder if this baby will be as musical as Gabs is, considering my constant singing and surrounding of music 24/7 practically! One day soon, Gabs will be playing like Orianthi Panagaris! I have faith in her ability and in the patience that my dad has to teach her!

Well, I’m out. I had a bit of time to just babble! Have a good week people!

NPC

 MEMOIRS

(Abridged)                                                                                         

By K.K.Subramanian

Waterfriend remembers his childhood

           Kunnathur Mana

My mother was born in a very illustrious family Kunnathur Padinjaredath.You can see the ancestral house near the Peruvanam temple south gopuram (gate)

I have vague memories of sitting upstairs; looking at the road. I must be four at that time.

The family came there in search of livelihood and became the tantry (main priest-they still are) of the temple. I can imagine mother (kali was her name-a goddess) walking towards the temple, holding the hands of the maid servant, almost naked, with only a plantain leaf strip to cover nakedness, not knowing what fate awaited her…tears swell in my eyes, even as I write these lines

She was married off at the tender age of thirteen or so to Subrahmanian Nambudiripad, aged forty plus, already having two wives, one living and the next one and her son still fresh in memory, and a daughter of mother’s age whom her brother married the same day, probably. Mother was dark, uncouth and short; my step sister was fair, lean and very handsome whom mother hated heartily!

I do not remember any one caring for her,  except her younger sister and some cousins. Uncle (eldest) never talked to her or even to her children (in all six, two died early). She had a sharp tongue and was outspoken but had a heart of gold. She was very lazy and father was the laziest!

I digressed…

Around 150 years ago, mother’s ancestor was married to the sister of the king of erstwhile Cochin State who was known as Shaktan Thampuran. He bestowed on the Kunnathur family tax free land. The family became rich.

Maternal grandfather was very intelligent, so too was my uncle. At that time a rich local Nambudiri of Chittoor mana established a school, where we all studied, and uncle was the first student, duly initiated before a lighted lamp etc. Of course the student was without a shirt! I had a few classmates, topless, in primary school. Grandmother was wise, cultured and well versed in puranas (old legends of Hindu religion).When she got angry and shouted like a lioness, her husband shivered like a mouse! She did like my mother, always told me to look after her well but did nothing when she needed assistance. In fact no one accompanied her when she left the house built by father, and we were travelling in a country boat, through the swollen river. Being a fool, I enjoyed the trip!…

Earliest memories centre around a small village Thalore, near Trichur. I was about four. Mother had given birth to a dead baby and so she continued to feed me. I just came in from the spacious orchard where I was playing, lay down in my mother’s lap and started sucking her big breast. (In those days our women folk did not wear blouse.) “Ma, who put sugar in your milk?” -I asked. She just pushed me off and that was the end breast feeding !

I had a playmate Bhagi about eight years or so . She was attached to our maid servant Madhavi. I always thought she was her daughter.

 One day the girl was mopping the kitchen floor. I said something .She didn’t listen and I gave a blow on her back with an iron ladle. The poor girl cried out aloud inviting the attention of mother and paternal grand mother I felt guilty and wretched. Perhaps that was the only time I used violence against any living creature…..

With just a piece of cloth tied like lady’s bikini, I used to accompany Madhavi to the grocery shop owned by a Tamil Brahmin .He would give a piece of jaggery. We never got chocolates in those days.

Father and mother slept in the upstairs bed room. I slept with them. Mother used to tell stories. Elder brother used to sleep with grandmother. He was her favourite. Paternal uncle Krishnaphan was an occasional visitor. We loved him, as he was a good storyteller. About Lilliputs we heard from him. He was dark and fat unlike another p. uncle Vasudevaphan who was slim and fair, the first person to go to school from K.K. family. He was teacher and a close friend of E.M.S. Namboodiripad.

One day an old lady came, covered up to the neck in pure white dhoti (in north India only a widow will dress in white) Do you know her? –they asked. When I blinked, they all laughed . I felt ashamed. It was mother’s ma. As a girl, she was born and brought up in the same house where we were staying temporarily-the great Veembur Kadalayil Mana (which was lying vacant at the time. Mahatma Gandhi visited the house in 1929). Father who was a good architect and astrologer was making our house near the river, about four miles away. One day brother and I accompanied him to see the construction work. My legs were paining like hell. I earned the reputation of having walked four miles when four years old.    

 At that time , another paternal uncle, Parameswaran by name, took me with him to fort Tripunithura where royal family members lived. By custom, only a nambudiri may marry a princess. And, in a nambudiri family only the eldest can marry; others may have legitimate relationship with women of other upper castes, the latter not entitled for a share of nambudiri property. They are not allowed to share meals with us.(My grandfather’s younger brother’s daughter was my schoolmate .I never knew about the blood relationship, though I somehow liked her. Of course I was too shy to talk to her! )

That is how uncle married a real princess and lived in Palace no.11. I was too small to notice the clean bed, the sumptuous food (at home we had it only on birthdays or during Onam) The great festival was going on at the Poornathrayeesha (Krishna) temple and there were any number of elephants (I wanted to become a mahout-I am never tired of watching these majestic animals)

An elephant was being fed. Uncle asked me-do you want to mount it . I shook my head. The mahout lifted me and handed over to his colleague sitting on the elephant. He placed me on its neck. I felt uncomfortable, its hair pricking my naked bottom and I being lifted up and down by the motion of its head while eating; still I enjoyed it .

One day we were taken to Akavoormana near river Periyar. We enjoyed playing in the shallow swift flowing water. I lay down in the water and was carried away some distance. Flapping my arms I managed to remain floating. Thus I learnt the rudiments of swimming. I do not know how to swim really. Like cattle only my head remains above water.

There were two young elephants there. As a baby Ramankutty used to roam about in the house and snatch things from the kitchen. Even now I like to have a baby elephant ….

Vasudevan uncle (the youngest among five brothers, father being the eldest) was working as teacher in Namboori Vidyalaya at Trichur. I would look with admiration  the fat books in his shelf. One day when I grow up I shall read them!

Savithri was born. I refused to see the baby. I wanted a brother. This dislike of girls remained for a long time to come.

When Vas uncle brought a wife I was too shy to meet her. Afterwards the words “cheriamme “automatically escaped from my mouth and all exclaimed “today it will rain” 

   Recently, during morning walk I reached the church and, turning right, easily located the arch, proclaiming entry towards the Shiv temple. I went through it and turned right. A little further, I had hardly turned left when I could easily spot the old gate as it was in 1937! It was something like a flashback in TV screen! The front yard was very small. (in my mind it was very big.)The main building was intact, though concretised. I saw mother’s bedroom upstairs where I slept. Through the left side I traced a few steps and saw the workplace where women husked rice .It was locked. I could easily see the rope swing and Bhagi and I playing there. The reddish brown cow must be somewhere nearby. Bhagi showed me how to pick silky smooth, egg shaped thing (she called it pattunni) from the cow’s skin. She would place it on a stone and crush it with another stone spilling blood. Ma must be in the kitchen. The great surprise was when I turned to the east courtyard and looked to the flight of steps leading to the orchard. I was expecting at least thirty steps. I could count hardly four! To the child everything appears on a mega screen. To the grown up, it is all on TV screen. The surroundings had been cut into plots and sold. There are flats now. But the main structure is unoccupied till now.

Originally, it belonged to Moothedath Kadalayil which was merged with Veembur Kadalayil. On shifting to Pazhai, the house was sold to Akavoor Mana, my paternal grand mother’s maiden house (illam). We were just living there. The Akavoor namboodiri even suggested,” sister, why don’t you live here, why build a new house?” But father wanted to be near our village. 

I don’t advocate domestic violence by any one, and I support abiding by the law, and being as helpful to the police as possible, but I also think that is wise not to make any incriminating statement’s to the authorities, given if the statement’s may be interpreted as a confession.

I understand…

In that case, I suggest saying nothing, unless your attorney is present,no matter what the police threaten,…

..especially if you may find yourself being guilty.

That is why I am not surprised by Tiger and Elin Woods reluctance to make any further statements to the police today, and I do not blame them for postponing the police interview until Sunday.

I do not expect them to make any statement on Sunday,outside of whatever minor announcement by whatever attorney the Wood’s managed to hire this holiday weekend to help them resolve this messy domestic incidence.

The interview was supposed to take place after 3 p.m. Saturday but was postponed shortly beforehand by Woods’ agent, Mark Steinberg of IMG.

On Friday,troopers were asked to return today, said Sgt. Kim Montes, a FHP spokeswoman.

 Woods’ wife, Elin, told troopers seeking to interview Woods that he was sleeping. They agreed to return the next day.

“The Florida Highway Patrol has received information that Tiger Woods and his wife were not available to be interviewed by state troopers, as we had previously scheduled,” said Sgt. Kim Montes of the Florida Highway Patrol. “Troopers were asked to return tomorrow (November 29th).”

Sgt. Montes has said in an interview that Mr. Woods could be charged with violations but “we always want to give the driver an opportunity to respond first.”

Hopefully they will take some quality time and hire some good legal counsel, and maybe seek some advice from Kobe Bryant , Shaq, Lionel Richie, Michael Jordan, and his many wealthy sports star peers for some good strategy to get out of this very embarrassing public domestic dispute .

They all been through similar issues with their wives and ex-wives. Make an appointment with Kobe Bryant’s jeweler,you may need his services right about now.

This is gong to cost you Tiger, way more than the 4 million dollars that Kobe spent on that make up ring, but it was one of the reason’s why he did not end up in divorce court.

All of this over his little fling with some skank, RachelUchitel,…it could not have been worth it.

The 2009 Cadillac Escalade sustained between $5,000 and $8,000 in damage to the front right and left, troopers said. The left and right rear-side passenger windows were also broken out, but the FHP hasn’t determined how that happened, Montes said.

I think that Tiger is more concerned with the cost of the damage to his family, his wife, his reputation, and his career.

He can always buy a new car…

For more details on this story, click on these links below…

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB125943335530168067.html?mod=rss_Today’s_Most_Popular

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/11/28/police-tiger-woods-wife-u_n_372815.html

http://www.tmz.com/2009/11/28/tiger-woods-elin-nordegren-florida-highway-patrol/

The l on my keyboard has been acting up for some time now.  When I strike the key nothing appears.  Or else I strike too many times because nothing appeared and then I get a slew of l’s.  Remember this.  It’s important later.

This morning my daughter and I ventured to the mall in hopes of cashing in on last year’s gift cards.  I know what you’re thinking – how could you let a whole year go by and not spend one dime on these valuable cards.  For me it’s easy.  I really only shop once or twice a year and frankly fall is my favorite time.   I can easily talk myself out of buying something or else purchasing it cheaper somewhere besides the mall.  So I had full balances on two mall gift cards.  First I wanted a pair of Earth shoes.  I had already tried them on several times but talked myself out of them.  But today I was ready to buy.  And I did.  Then on a whim we stopped at the Apple Store.

Love that place.  Started near the ipods when a red-shirted guy approached and asked if we needed assistance.  We did.  I asked him why I could not upgrade Safari in order to use itunes on my laptop.  Turns out my computer can no longer meet my needs.  First,  Apple no longer manufactures Power Books and they have upgraded their processors.  My computer was ready for retirement.  So I’m happy to announce that I’m typing this post on my brand new Mac Book Pro!  I love it.  It’s fast.  It has features I didn’t have on my retired one – like photo booth and a built in camera. There’s lots of memory.  No more messages telling me my startup disc is almost full. I finished off the gift card balances and more and now I’m the proud owner of a MacBook Pro and couldn’t be happier.  Lucky me.

Heidi Klum and Seal’s fourth child is a little girl named Lou Sulola Samuel. Born on October 9, 2009, we had yet to see her until recently when images of the baby and parents were posted on Heidi’s official website, HeidiKlum.com and Seal’s official site Seal.com. The family took some lovely pictures.

From HeidiKlum.com:

“Anyone who has a family will tell you this.Where will one find that extra love? If you love your existing children with all of your heart, how then can one possibly find more heart with which to love another?
On Friday October ninth 2009 at 7:46pm, the answer to this question came in the form of our fourth child and second daughter. Lou Sulola was born and from the moment she looked into both of our eyes it was endless love at first sight. She is beautiful beyond words and we are happy that she chose us to watch her grow over the coming years.”

Here are a few of the pictures…

Luo Sulola Samuel

Gorgeous photo

Seal and Lou

—- Stay Juicy!

The holiday season has begun and I’m in rare form.  Whereas previously I’ve done things like gone to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in Manhattan (spectacularly awesome) or shopped my ass off on Black Friday (exciting enough that I’ve very nearly sh*t myself)  . . . this year would have none of that.

* * * * *

I bought Thanksgiving cards, none of which I mailed or even addressed.  Well, I did send one, probably to the person least likely to care, cause that’s how I roll.

In my refusal to participate in this thankful thing I didn’t buy food, cook anything, or even wash a dish.  Pretty sure the reason my daughter hasn’t spoken to me in over 24 hours is that I didn’t want to sit at a decorated table, not when there are only 3 people, no dead grandparents, no screaming babies, no conversations of  political dissension, no familial hatred, irritation or annoyance.

Yes, I realize some bizarre oddballs would do it just for themselves, put out a big fat brown paper turkey and a plastic tablecloth, but personally I prefer to make myself and everyone around me miserable.  It’s a mind-set and you have to work at it to really perfect something so wicked.  If I cannot have the agony of family past then by God I will re-create it for a new generation.

When the phone brought Thanksgiving greetings I didn’t answer it.  Although I always think I will make calls on holidays, be a good friend or relative, I never do.  I’m more likely to just stop talking to the elderly blind woman who enjoyed my company so much that I decided I didn’t have time for her.

My niece called twice — the kind of enthusiasm I appreciate when I’m not thinking about how annoying it is when people love me & want to tell me about it – but I didn’t answer.  Maybe if she’d tried 5 or 6 times I might have acquiesced out of exhaustion.

(I’ve been supportive since she got out of prison, but could no doubt have done so much more.  I like telling her stories about what a fuck-up I am.  I make sure she knows details of ALL the familial sins, not wanting her to fall into that addictive thought thing where she believes she’s an original.  There is hope for the future.  She too can marry a decent man then years down the road ruin his perfectly controlled life when she lets her personality come to light after years of denying it.)

My brother Scott called too, but I missed it entirely.  At least that way I don’t feel guilty.  He’s decided he no longer wants a life of depravity & brought up religion recently.  If that wasn’t a downer I don’t know what could classify as such.  I mean REALLY?  You’re going to go from stories of swinger escapades where you accidentally left a condom inside another man’s wife to tales of meeting potentially sweet chicks at church, just as I’m ready to tell you I’ve gone off the deep end?  It seems so unfair!

When my son rang, of course, I answered and put on a smiling face and perky attitude that must have made him think I was popping amphetamines while decorating the tree with a martini in my left hand. 

“Yes, son, we can’t wait for you to come home at Christmas!  This family is all about happy tradition & by God we’re looking forward to seeing you my dear.”

* * * * *

I fantasize about holidays spent serving turkey to AIDS patients and wiping the asses of foster children, burning gravy while sporting gray hair that hasn’t been tended to because I’m so busy caring for others.  But none of that has ever really come to pass.  Well, it’s never even been attempted.  My mind is so much busier than my legs or arms or dialing fingers.

My alter ego believes in tending to others so much more than my real self can conjure up the motivation to actually do it.  Oh, but the thoughts of humanitarianism I’ve had could fill an orphanage with children who love me beyond words AND a homeless shelter with dirty bed-bug ridden strangers who would no doubt speak very highly of my loving nature.

* * * * *

I did eat a lot, all things that I am not supposed to: the french silk pie (a deep dark chocolate cream) was cut into around 4 AM the night before the day, but still technically on Thanksgiving.  Then it was creamed corn casserole (made incorrectly), stuffing (to perfection), mashed potatoes and gravy, plus vitamin & fiber-free white rolls with butter.  It’s a dreamy kind of diabetic recipe for leg loss.  (I hope if I ever do end up in a wheelchair someone just wheels me out to a deserted location and dumps my ass near a red ant hill.)

During most of the festivities I watched 8 hours of a Godfather marathon.  Part I was great, Part II not so much.  It ended at 4:30 a.m., so I finally went to bed.  The marathon was a lifesaver, all that blood & sadness, cause I didn’t think too much about anything else as I worried about Michael & poor, poor Sonny the emotional hothead who’d fuck anything that walked.

It did however annoy me that my husband stayed up until 3 just to keep me company, when I didn’t want it.  Instead I’d prefer he disappear into thin air.  That’s a whole other story and of course I don’t want that for my daughter.  He needs an invisibility cloak that works only for me.

Yes, I know I should be on anti-depressants but they make me gain weight and take away my ability to orgasm, which obviously would depress me.  Stupid, stupid fucking pharmaceutical companies.  Combine an anti-depressant with a diet pill that makes me orgasm without a penis and now you’re talking.

* * * * *

Holidays don’t bring out the best in me, if you hadn’t noticed, instead they make me want to fall in a hole and be covered by just enough dirt that I can continue to breathe.  I’m not QUITE suicidal, I have too much hope for the future.  It’s that schizo thing that alternatively saves me and frustrates me until I want to peel my skin off with a fork.

* * * * *

So yesterday was the day after Thanksgiving.

First, I slept until 11.  When my husband brought me the phone I looked at him with the hatred of a terrorist at Guantanamo facing her captor.  I spoke to my great friend Roxanne for a few moments from the toilet, nearly falling back to sleep on the bowl.  Promised her I would call back, which I never did.  (She puts up with a lot.)  Checked for a text that wasn’t there, then slept some more.

Coffee is the only thing that makes me smile every single day.  So I had some.

Eventually Lucille Ball and Henry Fonda were on the tube with “Yours, Mine and Ours.” It was beautiful & I cried tears of joy instead of the other kind.  But when it ended I was back to my real life and didn’t have 16 children and one on the way (because you know I am really incredibly fond of laundry and making sandwiches in bulk).

So we put in another film to further escape our hideous lives in this home that’s practically a mansion with its two acres, pool and flat screen televisions, a refrigerator full enough to feed a Sudanese tribe.  (Fortunately they were not here during my eat-a-thon because I might accidentally have popped one or two of those tiny people in my mouth without looking, mistaking them for licorice or beef jerky or a slim jim.)

I should be ashamed of myself but I’m way too white trash for that.

* * * * *

Did I mention I woke up this morning weighing 179 instead of the 249 I was at some point during a Weight Watchers weigh-in before the diabetic diagnosis?  179 might sound like a lot to those of you who live perfect American lives with women wearing jeans in a size 0 after a pregnancy that ended 90 days ago.

For me it’s a loose size 14 and the best I’ve looked in two decades.  It’s trading clothes with my 12-year old and doing dumb shit like wearing a t-shirt with a Miley Cyrus tag from Wal-Mart when I’m in the mood to be an asshole.  If I get any thinner my skin will further hang like fancy draperies.

My crooked bangs and big chiclet front tooth are still all I see.

Yeah, happiness comes from weight loss & a great house & a husband who adores you beyond his ability to express it without weeping (which if you’re like me will disgust you to no end).

Believe it & get a big surprise.  Happiness lives inside your head & you can make yourself totally fucking miserable in any situation at all.

* * * * *

So after Billy Bob Thornton and his dumbass movie “Daddy & Us” pissed me off completely I took 2 Xanax after sobbing on the toilet (back to my favorite place).  I went to bed at 8 p.m. and woke up & headed downstairs just as my husband was coming up at 12:30 a.m.

Holiday’s over.  Time to get back to normal life.

The problem is I haven’t known what that is for the past five months, ever since my brother died, I turned 49,  my son moved away, my daughter hit puberty & I XXXX XXXXX X XXXXXXXXXX XX XXXX XXXX X XXX XXX XXXXX XXX XXXXX XXXX XXX XXXXXXX XXXX XX.

So that is why I haven’t been blogging funny entries that are supposed to be entertaining and make you laugh, although this one did do it for me in spots.

Maybe I’ll try again later.

Breaking News- Legendary golf champion Tiger Woods has been seriously injured in a car accident in florida.

The AP reports Tiger hit a fire hydrant and a tree near his Florida home, authorities said.

The Florida Highway Patrol said the PGA star hit the fire hydrant and tree as he pulled out of his driveway in his 2009 Cadillac sport utility vehicle. His airbags did not deploy, and he was not wearing his seatbelts, which is a violation of Florida law.

Woods was taken to Health Central Hospital. Officials there did not have record of him as a patient, though the news release said Woods’ injuries were serious.

Tiger Woods is 33 years old, married and has two children.

It is being reported that alcohol was not a cause for this crash. The crash is currently under investigation, and charges are pending based on the findings of the investigation.

As news breaks on this story, we will be updating this post.

Let’s all send Tiger our best wishes for a speedy recovery, and for better days in the future…

For more information on Tiger Woods, click on the links below…

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiger_Woods

http://blogs.usatoday.com/gameon/2009/11/tiger-woods-in-serious-condition-after-car-crash.html

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/11/27/tiger-woods-injured-in-ca_n_372324.html

Especially grown children.   Today I wanted to buy myself one of these:

But since my daughter lost her phone today, I was force to buy one of these *for her* instead:

Yep, I had to buy a new I-Phone for my 19th year old daughter.

Sheesh! The things we do for our adult children.

But I am thankful that I had the money to pay for it.

*Always & Forever Smiling*

It scares the wee out of me.  Aggressive trampling crowd, elbows flying, sprints to endcaps, a tug of war over the last one, where you end up beaten bloody on the floor -crying Mama – while you rock back and forth sucking your thumb.

Um, no thanks!  Okay, I’m sure that’s not what really happens, but I have no desire to find out otherwise. I’ll just lounge in my PJs, thankyouverymuch.

Yesterday was my first Thanksgiving with Jason’s family. His mother graciously welcomed me, my mother, and my daughter Sydney to the grand feast.  The table was decorated with ceramic pumpkins, fancily folded napkins in rings, and beautiful china. The food was a foodie lover’s dream, so friggin’ delicious. She went above and beyond. That is one mother who LOVES with all her heart, and it spills over into all the hard work she puts into this Thanksgiving dinner for her family.

Even more beautiful was the children racing around, giggling, screeching, and constantly filling their bellies. I have decided my delight in  children comes from a long line of family genes. Goes back as far as we know to teachers in the previous generations. Except it ended with me, because I loved travel more, but I digress.

I got a kick out of watching my mother, mingle, laugh, and enjoy the meelee. Most of the children in our family are grown, so this was a sight to see and reminisce.  It was eerie how well she fit in. But I’m not surprised. Good people with the same values, and upbringings as ours, which is why I love them so much.

Black Friday kicks off the start of the countdown to Christmas.  Black Friday is a shoppers dream. Black Friday reminds me of the time my car was broken into. I was running on the trails in Fort Worth.  It was somewhere around six or seven miles.  I get back to find a policeman next to my car which has a shattered drivers side window.

That wasn’t even the worst of it. My purse was in the car. Yes, I know -  how dumb. I went to the back hatch opened it, popped the hidey hole, and voila there was my purse. Then I checked the middle console where my keys were (to the car, house, etc). Yep! Still there. Oh the cop was none to happy about that, but seriously – jogging with a big wad of keys? – or jogging with a very small remote to the car? Yeah, I chose remote – shamefully.

I was very lucky. I never parked there again, and at the time – I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to jog again. Husband 2 was a tyrant. He went ballistic over this infraction. Of course, it was my fault, and I was never to jog again, EVER. Insurance does not pay for that, so we had to fork over a few hundred dollars. Some Black Friday, huh? See why I don’t like them.

But the gift was that it could have been so much worse, being my purse was in the car, and keys. All I lost was a lousy tinted window.  I have never parked there again, in fact, I started parking in a shopping center and walking to the trails. I never, ever took my purse with me.  So, it all worked out, I got to keep running at my favorite park and learned some valuable lessons.

That brings me to what I promised myself, that I would begin a series of posts,  from now until Christmas titled Timeless Gifts. You know what those are – things you can’t price – just revel in the majesty of the gift. Instances of  kindness that blow you away, or movement of the season to make you really realize what Christmas is all about. An unbelievable act that has you falling to the floor, shouting  “I’m not worthy!”  Yeah, those kind.

I have a lot of those in my life. The car breakage is one.  Can you imagine right before Christmas to have your I.D and bank card stolen? It would have made for a tough time, to deal with all that, and wonder if you’d ever be safe again – not to mention the fallout, and punishment from #2.

I, for one, was very grateful it wasn’t that bad and still am. My eyes were opened to the Timeless Gifts that happen all around. I hope I can share them with you. I hope I do the stories justice in the coming weeks. Until then….

Happy “black” Friday! I hope you get gifts galore at half the price.

“If I ventured in the slipstream
Between the viaducts of your dream
Where mobile steel rims crack
And the ditch in the back roads stop

Could you find me?
Would you kiss-a my eyes?
To lay me down in silence easy
To be born again…
To be born again

From the far side of the ocean
If I put the wheels in motion
And I stand with my arms behind me
And I’m pushin’ on the door

Could you find me?
Would you kiss-a my eyes?
To lay me down in silence easy
To be born again, to be born again

There you go standin’ with the look of avarice
Talkin’ to Huddie Ledbetter
Showin’ pictures on the wall
Whisperin’ in the hall
And pointin’ a finger at me

There you go, there you go
Standin’ in the sun darlin’
With your arms behind you
And your eyes before
There you go

Takin’ care of your boy
Seein’ that he’s got clean clothes
Puttin’ on his little red shoes
I see you know he’s got clean clothes

A puttin’ on his little red shoes
A pointin’ a finger at me
Standing in your sad arrest
Trying to do my very best

Lookin’ straight at you
Comin’ through, darlin’
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah

If I ventured in the slipstream
Between the viaducts of your dreams
Where mobile steel rims crack
And the ditch in the back roads stop

Could you find me?
Would you kiss-a my eyes?
To lay me down in silence easy
To be born again, to be born again
To be born again, to be born again

In another world, darlin’
In another world
In another time
Got a home on high

Ain’t nothing but a stranger in this world
I’m nothing but a stranger in this world
I got a home on high in another land
So far away, so far away

Way up in the heaven, way up in the heaven
Way up in the heaven, way up in heaven, oh
In another time, in another place
In another time, in another place

Way up in the heaven
In another time, in another place
In another time, in another place
In another face”
- Astral Weeks by Van Morrison -

Ah man…Often I write about music here and what it means. How it feels and effects me. But Van Morrison. That’s another place to be all together. I just can’t…The words don’t work to express what he is to me. If Bob Dylan were my brain and thoughts, Steve Earle my legs and travel, Nick Cave my hands and touch then Van Morrison is my heart and spirit. I am so often reduced to this state of perfect Zen when listening to him, he takes to a place I shelter from all else. I just sort of venture into the slipstream, as Van sings. I close my eyes and it all comes. The joy, the tears and God. Love, love like a Van Morrison song is perfect an almost transcendent state.

Can you believe it’s been 41 years since Astral Weeks was released? That’s just amazing to think, an album can have the same power and effect over so much time. And the song itself. A lot of folks really like it but few really get it. What he’s doing in it and what he’s saying. You see he’s walking you through a photo album. And each line of the song (in some ways the pictures even overlap) is a description of a snap shot. A little boy, a teenager, a man discovering love, a lone soul facing into the eternal. He’s trying to let you see his life in seven minutes and six seconds. It’s such a powerful and bold thing.

A couple days ago I was talking to my friend about using music to worship and dancing in worship. Using it to connect to the greater thing…The Holy Spirit. And he was talking about Christian music and Psalms. I told him I do that with Van Morrison. He sets up a line to God himself for me, opened and receiving. That for my heart and soul Van Morrison is as powerful as a Sunday morning hymn. And just as sacred. Holy words and sounds. My friend didn’t really know his music and it was almost impossible to explain what it sounds like or feels like and I thought ‘I’ll lend him some, so he can see’ and immediately following that I was seized by a second thought ‘No way!’. See because if I let him hear it and try to see it and he didn’t like it or didn’t get it. It would be like rejecting my deepest parts. I’d be left with this sense of not being understood once again. And I wondered if being so closely connected to a guy singing songs is sane or healthy. Especially at my age. I don’t know but I am. Maybe it’s okay.

About 6 months ago my then 20 month old daughter was sitting in my lap with her head against my chest. She had her ear over my heart and could probably hear my heartbeat. The song Tupelo Honey by Van Morrison was playing and Ruby had her hand resting in the palm of mine and she was softly tapping along to the music with her fingers. So I asked her if she liked this music and she gently nodded and her eyes had that same far away look I get when I hear the music and it gets inside. She was in that place, my favorite place. It was truly a spiritual experience to share with her. Maybe it would be to share with any human but even more so with my little girl. Holy and pure.

Well there you go. There’s me for today.

Be well, be love.

The last 3 nights have been really good! She has slept from about 7:30 to 5:30 each night, when she wakes at 5:30 I fed her and then she went back to sleep until sometime between 8:00 and 8:30. I have come to realize that I can’t really ask for much more at this point I have decided to just keep the 5:30 am feeding and let her eliminate it on her own as I am sure that she will; over the last few days she has creeped closer and closer to 6:00 anyway. Honestly, I have to admit too that I would rather get up at 5:30 to feed her and go back to sleep until 8:00, than get up for the day at 6:30 or 7:00, selfish mommy decision. Well I guess it wasn’t fully my decision, this is what is working for her and we decided to go with it- don’t they call that a babyled schedule, lol! Whatever, it works, we are sleeping and we are all pretty happy (excuse me while I go to knock on some wood).

Happy indeed!

We are at day 36 for anyone who was curious. 36 days! All the information you read on infant sleep training says it takes about 2 weeks, what planet are those people on- the planet where they still give their babies rum to help them sleep through the night (do not try that at home!). Honestly, I think that all of these programs need to give us the gory details because it is debilitating to only hear about the “winning successes” of some assholes that you don’t even know. Yes, I called those people assholes, that’s how angry it makes me, lol. I want to hear a story about how hard it was on one family and that it took them 8 weeks, because maybe that will make me feel better when we hit day 36. I think that they are setting you up to quit if they don’t paint a realistic picture. You are going to think oh well this isn’t working… the thing I found interesting about the sleepsense program’s follow along manual (where you chart your progress), was that there were 30 pages for charting 30 days of “progress.” So why is there space for 30 days if it takes 2 weeks. Yes they tell you in all of the programs that every baby is different and that two weeks is an average- well tell us the worst case scenario too, not just the two week situations.

I think I have finally (knock again on wood) solved the protesting at bedtime thing. A few weeks ago we were not letting Everly have a third nap, we just would let her stay up until it was time for the bedtime routine. Some nights this meant that she was already up for 3.5 hours before she went to bed. She is usually ready to sleep after 2 hours during the day, so that kind of gives you an idea about how tired she might be! I thought that her being more tired would make her fall asleep faster, yeah no, did not work that way. What I have found is that starting bedtime routine 1.5 hours after she has been away is the hot ticket. She is just tired enough at bedtime, not so overtired that she is wound up and can’t relax into a deep sleep. We stumbled upon this haphazardly when we went out for dinner and noticed she went to bed better, so the third nap is back and in full effect!

Speaking of naps, they are going great also (make this the third knock on wood!). We put her down and she falls asleep quickly. It’s all about timing for Everly, not so much about sticking to the same schedule. I wait until that 2 hour mark hits and just feed her and put her down and she sleeps. Usually it’s a 30 minute power nap, but these past 2 days she has had a couple 1 hour naps. It amazes me how little recharging she needs in order to be ready to go again!

Happy wake ups!

She is so close to being mobile! She does the commando Mowgli crawl (elbows on the floor, toes on the floor and legs and tummy in the air) and will push herself backwards. She gets on her knees and on her hands, but not always together in one coordinated movement, lol! I am not encouraging it right now, but her dad is and you can’t stop development, so it’s just going to happen.

Getting ready to take off!!!

We have also noticed that she has become a music lover. We bought her a little piano and xylaphone and maracas and she just plays with them all day long. As soon as she hears music her face lights up and she just gives ‘er, it’s too funny to watch (which you could HERE and HERE). We have been told that she will be a musician, I think it might be a tad early to plan our retirement on her rock star paychecks, but who knows, I did play a lot of RockBand and SingStar when I was pregnant, lol!

Linus

We had her 6 month well baby check up today! She was in the 90th percentile for her height and the 75th percentile for her weight, not to shabby baby! When she was born she was in the 25th percentile for her height and the 50th percentile for her weight, so she has done A LOT of growing. The doctor was very happy with her health and development so far, she was impressed by her skills thus far- every mother wants to hear that! So right now I am feeling pretty good about my job as a mom so far and I am so proud of Everly! To check your baby’s growth click here, that calculator is American though, am not sure if that makes a difference but it might, I think it’s handy regardless

Chubby monkey!