Margerie's Blog

Meow Love Rock and Roll

2009-05-19T11:13:00.000-07:00

Shame, shame, shame... has been eons since my blog groove has been on. Sometimes the brain gets overloaded with serious business~ like Department of Defense work and managing my career as a desperate housewife.

Speaking of ........ on yet another shift of Desperate Housewife, I caught Patrick using the microphone. You see our living room has been converted into a karaoke/hip hop haven by some little people that I sometimes yell at. Mr. Furball found the microphone abandoned....... easy on the teeth there dude!

So after photo taking, I thought I would put a Warhol twist on FuzzNuts.

And in Amazingly But True News, someone has recruited me to officially use my creative side and wants me to travel around with her promoting There Is Life After Breast Cancer- Volumes 1- Indefinite. I guess I passed the no drama test in DC. So stay tuned.

But be sure to visit the There Is Life After Breast Cancer site for a hint of the fabulousness that Hayley is cooking up. And for any breast cancer survivors out there, do not be shy. Let your creativity flow and submit some of your work :)

PIECES

2009-03-23T12:37:00.000-07:00

That is how I think my mind is constructed. Pieces of brain matter stacked, unstacked, rolling around, put on hold, empty, asleep, keenly aware, overworked, in need of a sugar fix, mixed-up, set on fire, multi-tasked to submission. Kind of like being schizo, only much more middle aged- wifey. My reasons? Here are some of the my current realities:

* My oldest son has a serious sports injury (pulled an arm muscle) that prevents him from even holding up a book, much less writing, doing homework, drawing or doing chores. Injury occurs while wii bowling. Now we have to explain said injury to his teacher and his baseball coach.

* My daughter is the Queen of Stubborn but she is no match for me :)

* My other son (the middle child) has been on his best behavior as of late, and it is also true that I probably notice him less :(

* I used to be a power feminist, but now if someone would consider me a trophy wife, I would consider that a compliment.

* I always said I would never have plastic surgery or get tattoos, yet I did lots of both. Oh yah, and I never thought I would need an oncologist either.

* I have been wondering what exactly "going to hell in a hand basket" means and is it worse than just going to hell plain?

* I have noticed we no longer get turkey turds all over the pool deck in the spring because we now have two German Shepherds. But now we have german shepherd turds instead.

* Speaking of the pool. I have at least 5 bathing suits, but I always need a new one. You know the fantasy one that is comfortable and cute and make you look 20 years old again.

* Your cat can and will screw up your Wii yoga session. Thanks Melissa.

* You can be an atheist with kids in Catholic school. Maybe there is a support group for that.

* And along those same lines, you can make a purple Jesus out of clay for a class assignment in the name of "it is called creativity Mom!" Did I mention that ivory/beige and brown clays were all available?

* Middle son is petitioning for a "rise" in his allowance and his argument includes "Show me the money Deep Pockets." Need to find second grade reading regarding the recession.......

* I can absolutely assure you that force= mass x acceleration because no force is moving my mass......

* I don't think the new parochial school would approve of one of my favorite youtubes of all time

And that is all for now folks. Play safe and sane out there!

I Like Your Tool

2009-03-09T11:42:00.000-07:00

So, many of you know about Lance Armstrong and have even maybe read his wonderful book It's Not About the Bike My Journey Back to Life. Hayley, Shannon and I regularly stalk him as much as we can. So when Shannon asked if I wanted to ride my bike with Lance this past Saturday night, I said "Hell, ya!" It seems Nike and Lance are launching their Global Art Exhibition "Stages" to benefit Livestrong and they just couldn't do it without the three of us and about 1,000 other rabid fans. Shannon has the best connections and I should thank her more :)

So our adventure begins and I am calling it:

It IS About the Bike: Our Journey Back to Von's

So when you throw Hayley into any adventure, there is bound to be a book deal. So after I blog this, I guess I need to find an agent for us and call Oprah.

OK Hayley has a tandem plan that involves a tandem bike (of course), some buffs, some tulle and some fabulousness otherwise known as being Hayley's friend means life is fabulous. She wraps some yellow tulle around the front spokes of the tandem. The yellow is a Lance thing :) Puts some pink buffs on our helmets. Then the three of us try to figure out how to load the two bikes in one, or potentially two, trucks. Mechanical placement of mechanical things is not one of our strongest skills. But we do figure out the tandem will fit in Hayley's Envoy with the tail closed, against ol' husband of Hayley's prediction. We go for one bike in each truck and head on out to LA. Sunset Blvd to be more specific.

Shannon has a little road rage along the way and I worry Hayley will have trouble keeping up, but it turns out she is furious with the same assholes and she predicts our every move and nimbly stays behind us. Our next challenge is parking somewhere near the start of the race without getting the trucks either towed, peed on, or both. We bank our hope on Von's and park there. They say they only want Vons customers and we drop in and buy a little somethin' somethin', not knowing that later on Von's will be crucial to the incredible journey known as Three Women in LA for Some Stalking and a Free T-Shirt.

We check in and get said free t-shirt. Go back and subtly unload 200 pounds of tandem and mountain bikes. Hayley has the brilliant idea, perhaps premonition, that maybe we should practice riding the tandem before joining the peloton. It seems she recently had the nightmare that involved each of us taking turns trying to ride the tandem alone on the back seat.

We hop on. Well, I hop on, Hayley is suspended on the front seat. Which. Is. Set. Up. For. Her. BIL. Who. Is. 6 feet. 7 inches. Tall !!!!!!! I am a little taller, I try it. NOPE. Need tools. No tools. Need someone with tools. No one with right tools. Need wrench. Run to car, after calling husbands who are doubtful trucks have wrenches, they are correct: no wrenches in trucks. VONS? Maybe we think. Run in with our buff helmets, check aisle 9 as directed. Light bulbs, extension cords, no wrenches. Another stock boy passes by and asks us if we need anything. We say "Yes, wrench." He says "Wrench?" We say "Yes!" He says "Follow me to aisle 15 and I will show you." We jog behind him to aisle 15 (condiments) and he proudly shows us the ranch. As in ranch dressing. We don't have time to properly laugh too hard and pee our pants, but we thank him anyway and run out to the parking lot. What to do? Hmmmm... Hayley with her wrench vision sees an AutoZone across the street and up a block. We run over. Select wrench. Buy wrench and run all the way back to the start of the race. As we both frantically try to loosen up the nut and push the seat down, another cyclist walks by and says "I like your tulle." Or maybe she meant tool. We will never know since the cosmos of this universe decided to converge tool and tulle for us at that very moment. Seat is adjusted down and I can reach my feet to the ground just in time to take off from the holding area. No practice. OMG didn't tighten the seat and it is spinning all over as I am trying to steer this bike. Tell Hayley we are going to have to go SLOW and she says "No problem" although I am sure she is biting her tongue trying to to laugh at my unstable ass. Thankfully the peloton stops again and we can secure my seat. I am not sure if I should tell Hayley that I also notice our front tire is flat. Decide to keep it to myself.

And we are off! Riding with 1,000 other people, and dear Shannon for two miles down Sunset Blvd. Strangely, we figure out that the three of us have had, on average, probably at least 3x as much plastic surgery as any of these other women and we are in Hollywood. The wind in our faces, as we ride right down the middle of Sunset Blvd. Strange and normal people talk to us, everyone is ecstatic, joyful, and we are definitely free of cancer for that 20 minutes. We make it and Hayley did notice the flat tires. There were actually two. It made for quite the work out. We get our bikes valeted. We go into the Montalban Theater and enjoy some snackies and some photo stories. Ben Stiller comes out to talk to us and then Lance and the Presidents of Nike and Livestrong. They also bring out Shephard Fairey (the famous artist that did that bold Obama and this huge mural of our boy) then there is music.

It was great! Shannon even noticed that someone was playing beer bottle bowling in the back of the theater and she laughed at every strike.

We had been looking forward to riding our bikes back to the Von's late at night, not, with the roads now open to junkies and cars. We go out at about 10:00 and ask the valets what we should do since we didn't see any taxis. "Take the subway, it is right there on Vine and Sunset." So we walk our bikes over to the corner and see no subway. Looking at the 4 foot wide sidewalk, it seems to be our best bet. We figure we will ride as long as we can, and maybe walk the rest.

And we are off! The flat tandem is challenging. We go through intersections, up and down ramps, dodge a few bums, newspaper stands, zoned out people, stoned out people, huffing and puffing. Shannon almost was speechless at our beauty with the wind whipping our buffs ever so gently as we glided along. OK that is not what happened. She was speechless because it defied the laws of physics, and really intelligence, to be riding this fast, in the dark, through so many obstacles on a bike that needs about 20 yards to come to a complete stop. We raced for our lives, huffing and puffing (at least I was) and we made it back. My legs tasted like chicken. We signed the wrench and plan on selling it on ebay after we reach fame and fortune. We then loaded up the bikes and moved on out. The next day we all had a yellow carpet hangover. But it was well worth it. Thank you Lance. Don't be such a stranger. We don't bite ;) And we have wrench.

And dear Lance, we would be happy to sport some of your new Livestrong Sneaks. They are sporty cool!

So My Son

2009-02-19T20:21:00.000-08:00

was practicing his cursive after school today. He is seven and full of energy. He can barely sit still. Eating for him is an experience in physics, texture, art and creative dance. For real. So when he said he was practicing his cursive ( you know, sitting sorta still for more than a split second), I must say I was shocked. When I saw that he practiced his cursive by writing me a poem, I immediately went into full mom-brag mode. So here it is (he is in the second grade):

Mom

I love you so much, I can't love you more.

I love you so much, you can soar.

I know it is not long, but I think it is spectacular :)

My Career As a Swimsuit Model

2009-02-05T10:25:00.000-08:00

Was launched in 1971 and short-lived. As you can see, I really did not have the right attitude. I don't know what my mother threatened me with to take these pictures, but it must have been good. I sported this lovely navy and white wrestling style one-piece swim suit. Considering we lived in Hawaii at this time, I am pretty sure my mother had much trouble finding a swimsuit so outrageous. My sister got a slightly more feminine style in some sort of pastel color. I guess the photo shoot was to contrast the tomboy with the not tomboy. I do give myself credit for perfecting the pout/scowl decades before this was en vogue. We are not sure about the contraption pictured behind us, we probably used it to restrain our youngest sister (not pictured) I am sure I could have tied dear Moira up to that thing, I was looking buff!

Sideboard Makeover

2009-01-23T11:44:00.000-08:00

My sideboard was a plain Jane. She asked for nothing, and didn't even cry when dear daughter smashed her head into her glass door and cracked it (the door). She is an old gal, of questionable background. So plain, we didn't notice her much. Well, she did have that one intersting tile inset composed of teal and white.....

I thought about getting rid of her for some flashy new thing. But, aside from the lack of redecorating funds, I decided to give her a chance. I repainted her and made her look unique. That is a nice way to put it! Anyway, if anyone is interested in the method of my madness, here is a step-by-step for painting glass doors. I really wanted to hide the secrets within (i.e. all my art and other crap stored in the shelves) and went all out on the doors.

First you pick a design. I copied some stained glass patterns. Tape the pattern to the outside of the glass. Trace the pattern onto the glass using a permanent marker. Paint the pattern with acrylics or watercolors, depending on how much transparency you want. I used both. Remember, you will be seeing the reverse side. Hang up the doors and voila! I painted the wood a cranberry red and used some antique gold paint as a highlighter.

And a big thank you to Hayley, who assured me I could do this!

No more sitting in the corner for my baby :)

Dear daughter saw the camera and insisted on a photo op for her blossoming little girl pout career. Style and pose by Ellen, age 5.

Aren't my girls somethin'?

I haven't replaced the glass since the head incident. The cats like to jump in there for now.

Mission Survival

2009-01-15T05:52:00.000-08:00

No, not talking about cancer, blah, blah, blah on that topic. Talking winter. In Chicago. Since we are hitting 70's and 80's this week in California and the Chicago forecast is butt-ass cold, I am fondly remembering my first winter in the Mid-West.

Mission: Survive Dental School

Launch Date: Fall/Winter 1989-90

Location: lake side, downtown Chicaaaaago

Enemy: besides gnarly teeth (not mine), nazi-esque instructors and a piss-poor student budget~ the wind, the below zero cold, the icy streets, the cab drivers

Cohort: my roommate Maria, who was from Miami

Mitigating Factors: none, OK maybe our youth

Fancy Gadgets: none (no cell phones or Internet, this was still the 80's)

Maria and I were talking in our dorm room one Sunday afternoon. We were pretty sure we had the proper gear to make it through the upcoming winter.

MINE

My coat, on the left, didn't have a hood and it was BRIGHT royal blue. Remember, this was the eighties. I was sure I would be fine, but I was not so sure about Maria. She may have had to wear a pashmina to the disco once or twice on a cold night in Miami, but her heavy coat was unlined leather.

So we call the experts~ our classmates from Canada, New York and the Mid-west. We asked them to come and check our gear.

They laughed. And laughed. And belly laughed. And peed their pants. Then they asked us did we have winter boots? Boots? we say. You need boots? OK more laughing. Then we pull out our boots...

MINE

.....MARIA'S

Then the experts lost it and dragged us to one of their rooms where they had actual winter gear. Their coats looked like sleeping bags with belts. They had hats. (OMG I was going to have to smush the chi-chi poof down?) and boots that were a combination hiking boot/top-siders. We had never seen anything more ugly in our lives.

We tried to be cool, and brave. But by Mid-October our chi chi was blown to bits, our feet were frozen and our dream fashion glamour was in the toilet. We had to catch the el to the Loop and buy some ugly-ass coats. We made it that first winter nicely in our ugly coats and survived many other indignities that year.

We petitioned the dean to assign dorm rooms matching each warm weather student with a cold weather roomie.

Maria, where ever you are, I hope you are nice and warm.

Camp Nukemboobies

2009-01-06T14:10:00.000-08:00

Well, I must say the whole breast cancer thing sucks. During active treatment, I especially despised the radiation therapy. It was literally cold. and impersonal. and exhausting. and depressing. Like the rest of it wasn't? But personally, I had the most trouble with the radiation both physically and emotionally.

When I decided to make my own cancer-related designs, the radiation designs were some of the very first to come to my chemo-laden imagination. They are still some of my best-selling designs, so I know other people share my sense of humor, or pain, or both. I revamped my Camp Nukemboobies this year and I think it turned out nice with the radiation symbol on the pink tent. Going to radiation treatment is a lot like camp: you meet new people, get a sunburn, miss home, get tired. Fortunately there are no bugs, but unfortunately there is no fun either! Camp Nukemboobies shirt may help you put a little fun into the marathon of radiation treatments for breast cancer.

And my generic radiation design Been There Fried That has a big dose of reality... Put a fork in me, I'm done!

If you know anyone undergoing radiation therapy, be sure to give them lots of encouragement and hugs. But check with them on the hugs, sometimes places can be a little toasty!

Discovery

2009-01-04T15:36:00.000-08:00

I. just. left. him. there.

OK confession... I put him in the microwave for a little bit and then put him back in the freezer. Some Rescue Hero. Can't even take on a Desperate Housewife. Or a fourth-grader's curiosity.

Multi-Tasking Manga Master

2008-12-30T10:30:00.000-08:00

For those of you begging me to come up with some non-kid material~ tough. My School is Back in Session Break is not for another week.

Looking on dear five year-old daughter's desk this morning, I see she had out her mini-manga drawing book that Santa put in her stocking. Santa was not sure she would like it. But he wanted to be fair since her brothers got the same kits. She was the first to try it. Here are the included instructions. Her sketch is on the left.

I think she did pretty well, especially considering she used a ball-point pen. I told her how impressed I was and she said "Oh, that. I just did it real quick while I was sitting on the pot."

Talk about a casual artist......

Hope Your Wife Is In Good Shape

2008-12-25T07:04:00.000-08:00

The kiddos are happily eating their pancakes, eagerly awaiting present time. I noticed the following note next to the fireplace:

Dear: Santa Clause
I have been a good kid this year. and I would also like to know how youre reindeer and wife are doing? Rudolph still got his nose bright for Christmas. Does Rudolph ever get his nose polished? Well, hows your wife? Is she in good shape? And health is doing good right? I'd really like these questions answered Christmas morning.

Sincerely, Scott

P.S. hope you are in good health and shape too.

No rest for the weary Santa. You had better get back to him on this :)

Merry Christmas all of my bloggy friends. Thanks for your friendship and support all year!!!

The Greaty Eighties

2008-12-12T14:24:00.000-08:00

Can't you just smell the Love's Babysoft now? I am going to post some old photos from my scrapbook, but gag me with a spoon for sure, don't know how it happened, but I sure remember looking cooler back then. LOL

This chick is not me ----------------------------------->
but I had that exact hairstyle for at least a few years. My kids will be so proud.

My favorite 80's memories:

* when a friend sprayed her hair for an entire minute with a can of Raid on accident~ DUH! It looked a little like the AquaNet can.......

* shopping at Miller's Outpost and a little store called Ragsmatazz for shiny, tight clothes and anything "ESPIRIT"

* going to SF with mom to hit the outlets, back when outlets were little hole in the wall stores or basements scattered all over the city

* feeling kinda left out when all my friends got perms since my hair was already curly

* dreaming of driving a new Datsun 280Z but really driving a Plymouth Satellite also known as "The Shark" which, BTW, can fit up to 10 non-seatbelt wearing girls with big hair and big talk and big aspirations. Also good for Chinese fire drills for the same reason

* Def Leppard, Van Halen, Flock of Seagulls, Duran, Duran, The Cars.....

* the birth of MTV especially the "Rio" video

* eating junk food, including TAB and all the Hostess stashed in my friend Bonti's freezer in her parents' garage, without worrying about fitting into those 501s or acid wash jeans with the high waist

* talking on the phone (the only line in the house) for HOURS about absolutely NOTHING

* dreaming of where to got to college

* dreaming of how the guys will be so much more mature that year......

* counting down the days until the braces came off and then when they finally come off, figure out nobody noticed the braces anyway

* staying out of "The Stoner Bathroom" at high school

* going to football games/the movies at night when it was probably 20 degrees out not wearing a jacket of any kind

* chewing green apple gum because it stunk like pot and somehow that was cool

* telling my parents I was spending the night at Jessie's house (oh so naive they were..)

* wearing bright red nail polish and matching waterproof lipstick, covering up curling iron boo boos and the occasional hickey

* cruising down Jefferson Avenue on Friday and Saturday nights in Napa~ woohooo!

* in college working in a store's lingerie department and seeing the look on the wife's face when I would say hi to my
professor(s) as they both walked by

* "Oh My God!!!!!"

* cassette tapes, empty hairspray cans and hairbrushes scattered all over the inside of our cars

* passing notes while driving in cars

*hard alcohol was wine coolers

* working out was aerobics. period. workout clothes involved leotards, headbands and reebok high-top sneakers

Well, found my high school portrait. You can even see the pink feathers, but you can't see the ugly tube top you had to wear under it. Sun-In in my hair and some ridiculous lip gloss and eyeliner. Also strangely preserved are some of my swim team photos. Notice the red nails and lipstick even under water...

I would love to have that old hair back.....

WORDLESS CANINE~

2008-12-03T07:16:00.000-08:00

Simple Enough

2008-12-02T08:33:00.000-08:00

Right? Taking the annual holiday kid photo for the Christmas cards.

Obviously I have parent heimers after an entire decade of kidhood. I was minimally prepared. Somehow each new session I think it is going to be easier than the last year.........
I did manage one good photo after small amounts of blood, sweat, tears and minor threats.

My back up plan was to use an old and somewhat embarrassing photo of the kids. So they can put it on their list of things I did wrong when they are in therapy. Some of my favorite contenders...

Merry Christmas from the Karate Kid Photokiller

Seasons Greeterings

Hark the Railroad Angels Sing.....

Deck the Halls with a Little Harmless Cross-Dressing

Not a Creature was stirring, not even a pissed off mouse (who's entire class had to be mice in the school play, much to his chagrin)

I'm Dreaming of a
Green-Haired Christmas

In the Christmas Spirit Already on the First Day of School

Jingle Bells, My Hair is in Swells, Mom Get the Brush

Silent Night Camping With Kids~ NOT!

Do You Hear What I Hear?

PEACE BE WITH ALL OF YOU DURING THIS CRAZY ASS HOLIDAY TIME!!

DAMAGED

2008-11-17T13:36:00.000-08:00

The art of damage. My lovely friend Susan, with her ridiculously neat handwriting and riduculously warm heart, sent me a note with a notecard enclosed for my mom. I got her letter in a plastic bag that says "WE CARE" compliments of the US Postal Service. The letter was torn open and the pretty stamp torn up. Hmmmmm... and Susan was recently seen with a shady character at a gas station rendezvous. Something tells me her life is much more exciting than my own. I don't think anyone has ever been that interested in some letter I sent. If letters could talk.....

And speaking of damaged, that reminds me of my damaged goods: stock portfolio, the retirement account, my car, my body and part of my soul. Once when you hear "You have cancer" you can't help but to always have at least one foot in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. I think I am down to just my pinkie toe. My body,heart and spirit are healed. But to move on after damage, that is something I did not do alone. See below.

I am rejoicing the launch of Hayley's website ThereIsLifeAfterBreastCancer. My poor pitiful story is there. It took me 6 months to write it. Hayley, on the other hand, can express her feelings easily and beautifully. Her hard work and dedication to the the cause of living after breast cancer is much appreciated!!!

Desperately Seeking Sanity

2008-11-13T13:06:00.000-08:00

HA! I finished holiday shopping. Boo Hiss from the crowd ;) Well, everything but 2 gift cards and some dolls for dear daughter's doll house. Shhhh. Don't tell her. Dear husband knows the secret: the doll house is really for me. I think I even have room for it in my room. Dear daughter's room is very crowded......

What have I been doing? Well, pondering life's great mysteries. Like why Tupperware can not ever stay organized? Why do I have to click "OK" twice to delete spam, but deleting important emails is instantaneous? Why do rude people exist? Are we over-parenting our children and setting them up for failure? Why can't girls join the wrestling team? Why don't I ever have any cute shoes?

And as Eminem says "Snap back to reality, Oh there goes gravity" Who knew that dude could be so prophetic?

So I have recently been fooling around with some snarky logos. Tell me what you think....

Get your Gossip Central gear here.

Get your Enablers Anonymous gear here.

I have a few others up my sleeve.

Peace!

It's Never Too Early for a Christmas List

2008-10-24T09:07:00.000-07:00

At risk of sounding materialistic, and not teaching the true meaning of Christmas, we have officially started the kids' Christmas lists. And as we all know, birds don't get much for Christmas, so starting a Christmas list in October does seem wrong on many levels. But the reality is dear husband and I were desperate for some down time and needed something for the kids to do with enthusiasm. In their rooms. By themselves. For a good hour. Writing up their Christmas lists (and really the relatives will start asking soon what they need/want) was just the ticket last night. Two of the three turned theirs in today. I guess we should have discussed a budget beforehand......

First, dear five-year old daughter, who must have had some help from older brother for the first 16 items. Yes, 16.

1. Nintendo DS

2. French Manicure Nails

3. Haircut set with Makeup

4. Hot Pink Cell Phone

5. Give All the Kids Toys

6. Shiny Shoes

7. Five Books

8. Toy Pony (thank goodness it was "toy")

9. Barbie Doll Stickers

10. Toy Wiener Dog (thanks Jan)

11. Toy Kitten

12. Remote Control Parrot

13. Remote Control Helicopter

14. Toy Ghost

15. Crown + Wand + Fairy Suit

16. Camera

and then she thought some more and wrote in herself:

That is "FAKE driver's license" for those of you not used to deciphering 5-year old spelling. I think she did pretty well.

I think I can take her extra passport photo and glue it on an old gift card.......

Dear 7 year old son had at least 30 items. A round up:

cheat book for Nintendo DS, ipod plus songs, art stuff, artist's stuff, fool's gold, sling shot, remote control motor boat and car, crystals, valuable coins, toy ghost, toy zombie, gift card, water gun, nerf gun, camera, bike helmet, pokemon cards, cloneship lego star wars, bionicles, droid ship, marsh mellow gun, books, action figures.

So there you have it. Still waiting for nine year old son's list. It should be a doozy.

I Am King

2008-10-16T13:35:00.000-07:00

Not of the blog world, obviously. I have been very naughty and let life and troubles distract me from this great venue. (Get well soon Mom)

I am in the mood again- hip, hip hooray!!

Now back to business. I read that some men are trying to snipe post-partum depression. I am not going to dis true mental illness*, but come on!!!! If you didn't just get over being pregnant, with accompanied hormonal changes, for 10 months and then top it off with a natural birth, medicated birth and/or surgical birth, just after which you started or feel guilty for not having started, breast feeding, then you DO NOT get to claim you are seriously depressed after birth. Now the mother of your child has to deal with your whiny ass too?? Get over yourself, change a diaper, settle your baby and deal with it. I hope these men don't try to take our menopausal martyrdom away, oops they already did. What does that leave us? Menstruation I guess. Oh that's right- men can have "mood cycles" too. Enough already. I hope they keep jock itch and roid rage to themselves.....

I have discovered that there is no such thing as "I pee peed my bed just a little." At least not in my house. I have also discovered that you can wake up, weigh yourself, go to the toilet and weigh yourself again and you can be a pound heavier. I won't watch the debates for the same reason I didn't like watching Siskel & Ebert~ can't stand people arguing. But, at the same time, I discovered some things are worth arguing for, like defending your own family from people with a misguided and wicked agenda.

And I learned that my mother, who will loose her hair any day now from chemo, ordered a head tattoo kit that came with a bunch of temporary tattoos for her head. She got three of the following design:

"I am King"

She is going to use them.

* Tom Cruise~ please honey, get yourself some medication before it is too late.

Momwork

2008-09-26T13:39:00.000-07:00

I guess I didn't know that Moms got homework. This is in addition to regular mom work. I understand the schools have a limited budget. And I appreciate all the effort teachers put into projects for my kids. But it drives me nuts when a note comes home Tuesday that dear son needs to bring a package of dried apples (always handy) in on Thursday morning. Which means I HAVE to go to the store on Wednesday. This screws up my "I only got to the grocery store once a week" creed. Hmmm.... I am beginning to see where my eldest's inflexibility may have come from.........

And if I don't hand everything as per requested- I will get a bad mommy grade.

I wish I just got a list at the beginning of the year with all of my momwork so I can get extra credit for getting it done early. It probably, with three kids combined, would look like this:

Marge's Momwork

* 10-12 snapshots of each child and family, pets, etc. (which may or may not be mangled, cut up and/or returned )
* 2 liter soda bottles- empty (chug-a-lug)
* birthday snacks for a class of 30 (nutritious, no nuts and something they won't think is gross and throw around the room) x3
* party napkins for 30
* juice boxes for 30
* 3 boxes Kleenex
* 2 inch binder
* ruler
* ice cream toppings
* sign a million papers
* collection of 100 something (buttons, cheerios, etc.)
* dried apples
* makings for a giant panda diorama
* 5-6 shoe boxes, some decorated
* 2 dozen hard-boiled eggs
* cake mix for the cake decorating contest
* hard candy for the carnival
* old holiday cards
* poster boards, markers
* report covers
* pine cones
* red glitter
* trombone (got a call from dear son at recess, he needed a trombone by 2:00 that day)
* music for trombone
* about 50 miscellaneous items- TBA (of course)

I am thinking my mom only got stuff for my science projects. She didn't know how easy she had it. So if you see me hightailing it to Von's with teacher's note in my hand, wave hi and make me smile. I maybe will smile back :)

Uhh...are you freakin' kidding me?

2008-09-18T11:31:00.000-07:00

Glitter Text Generator

is the improg word of the week. I felt it when my oncologist called me yesterday to tell me my last body scan was "fabulous," "normal," "the best one the diagnostic center has seen all week." Which also means I am done with cancer. Finito. I won b*tch. Not FOR SURE, according to the medical community, because I don't deserve that yet and they are too chicken to lay it down that way. But according to me I am most definitely done.

But just as euphoria hits, I remember my mom is in the hospital with newly diagnosed advanced ovarian cancer.

Big Yellow

2008-09-10T11:41:00.000-07:00

Coupon Code: NEVER

2008-09-07T12:53:00.000-07:00

That's right. I am physically incapable of executing a coupon in real life. I forget them in my wallet, forget to put them in my wallet, bring the wrong purse....... and if the coupon actually makes it out of my wallet at the store, it is expired. So when I saw that the improg word of the week was COUPON, I almost started to sweat. Then I realized I can make some virtual coupons for myself and all my good bloggy friends. So here they are.......feel free to use as many as you like and send them to your well-deserving friends!

Life's a Whirl

2008-09-03T06:46:00.001-07:00

Let's Make it Quat

2008-08-27T14:35:00.000-07:00

I had been suffering from blogherrea, then blog stoppage. I had no camera, and now I have no computer. The tech gods are punishing me for some deeds in my past life I am sure...... I have kids going to school, one not going to school and lots of other blog-interference. I hope I get regular soon. The discomfort is killing me.

Now onto my improg word Kumquat.

I grew up in lots of places. Navy brat. But spent my formative years (self-defined as ages 7-12) in Pascagoula, Mississippi.

We did lots of things as kids in Mississippi in the summertime including:

* playing baseball using piles of oyster shells as bases (whose lousy idea was that? I still have a scar under my eye from sliding into home)

* going into the woods looking for BigFoot

* fishing for croakers

* walking to the store to get a slushie

*singing Dixie songs (I have an 8-track tape somewhere to prove it)

*improving our 'girls only' tree fort ( we painted it in psychedelic rainbow)

* catching fireflies

* avoiding water moccasins

* finding turtles and frogs

* throwing cans of cream soda down under the clubhouse on a pile of oyster shells to make a tiny hole that would spray the soda into our mouths

*swimming all day at the pool or the beach (The latter stopped when Jaws was released...)

* piling our girl scout cookies into a red wagon and trying to deliver them in the neighborhood while fending off the boys trying to ambush us

* throwing dirt clods at the neighborhood boys

* setting traps in the dirt paths in the woods so the boys would crash into them on their dirt bikes (Hmmm.. we were pretty bitter about the cookies thing)

* playing barbies and riding banana bikes

* sweating always (it was humid)

* watching 'Solid Gold' and 'Soul Train'

* making up our own 'Gong Show'

* drooling over Scott Baio, The Hardy Boys and Leif Garrett

* playing our KISS album

* playing kick-the-can

and finally... we would sneak into the neighbor's backyard and pick off some kumquats from their tree. My mouth puckers just thinking about it. We would eat a few, then decide all of the peeling for the little bit of sour flesh was not worth it. They did, however, make great ammunition along with our stock of dirt clods. So we would load up our red wagon or banana bike baskets and be on our way.

Dirty Little Secrets.........

2008-08-16T20:06:00.000-07:00

I HAVE CAMERA PEOPLE!!!!!

So I thought I would celebrate by letting you know a little more than you bargained for........

Dirty Little Secret Number One

My new kitchen sponges are now SpongeBob/Smurf hybrids. I am not certain how this happened.....

Dirty Little Secret Number Two

If I get another piece of equipment that comes with another cord/connector/adaptor, I am going to strangle someone with it.

Can't there just be one cord that connects everything????

Dirty Little Secret Number Three

My daughter is an interior design extraordinaire. She has chaotic taste wouldn't ya say? Hmmmm... I think I see a sponge wrapper in there......

"Patrick (a live animal) run for your life!" The live animal is not the white furball just above. That is a dead dog. No really it is a purse. Yes, a purse.

Dirty Little Secret Number Four

I hardly ever wear a bra. Here are the ones I hardly ever wear. I have had these bras at least 8 years now and somehow they still do fit........with the new occupants and all....

Dirty Little Secret Number Five

One of our German Shepherd Dogs likes to swim. We are pretty sure he also pees in the pool, yet we let him swim anyway.............

Dirty Little Secret Number Six

My dear husband and I squeal with glee, almost pee our pants laughing, when we think about this old Staples commercial. Maybe we should do a reenactment since 'tis the season........

Dirty Little Secret Number Seven
Our oldest son is obsessing that he is not going to live forever and neither are his parents. It is heartbreaking........... In fact it is 10:00 pm right now and I am letting him watch the Olympics so he doesn't think about it as he tries to fall asleep.

enough dirty laundry for now...... going out to take some more pictures!

Can you guess the species of these big browns?

2008-08-13T07:21:00.001-07:00

SASSY

2008-08-05T07:55:00.000-07:00

Today I am improgging the word SASSY.

I used to be sassy. Of course, having a teen-aged body didn't hurt in this pursuit. They didn't call me Wonderbuns in high school for nothing ;)

Let's just say now I strive to be sassy. Sassy is a goal. I have some great sassy friends. Hayley are you there my brave and bold friend?? Trust me, you can learn a lot from her. Life is so much fun when you can dress up like the Mona Lisa, Danica Patrick, Betty Crocker and Miss Piggy all in one day.

Today in my Sassy Fantasy Life I would:

1) tell my husband I need a wife to help me get all my stuff done
2) watch Desperate Housewives and not be embarrassed to tell anyone that I love the show
3) wear clothes that were made for 20-year olds
4) go out on the field and help my dear husband coach his bantam football team
5) bring home some stray cats
6) drive a Porsche convertible
7) call people right away on their BS phony crap
8) wear a shirt that says F*CK CANCER
9) tell people that are walking around Target with their bluetooth to stop freakin' talking to me
10) honk and wave at the car with the bumper sticker that says "Honk if you're horny!"

So what are your sassy goals? Let's make them happen! Seize the day! I am going out to look for some stray cats now. See you later!

Facetious Recipe

2008-08-01T08:25:00.000-07:00

So today I am improgging facetious. My morning brain synapsed a facetious way to figure out how I ended up getting breast cancer.

After the shock and awe of my diagnosis I wanted to know WHY in a big way. Was very let down that no amount of asking or searching was going to get me my answer. So I came up with my secret recipe theory:

SECRET BREAST CANCER RECIPE

1 basic human body(genetics included)
many foodstuffs (eaten over a lifetime)
20+ years of various environmental factors
a few sprinkles of exogenous and endogenous hormones (pregnancies, nursing, birth control pills, HRT-pick one or more)
1 or 2 key viruses (exact virus and circumstances unknown)
some exercise (maybe not enough)
A few stress events
A dash of bad luck
A pinch of why me

Combine and bake at 98.6F for 30-60 years and voila!!!
the perfect breast cancer served on a silver pan, rush to pathology.

I am throwing out my apron....................

Are we there yet?

Close Encounters of the Feline Kind

2008-07-28T06:35:00.000-07:00

As some of you know, and as some of you may care, I have been having some interesting cat encounters as of late. And now that I think about it, it was really unreasonable to expect those days to be over......

So the story goes that we had family and friends on our boat on the lake. It was time to find a place to anchor and have lunch. Dear husband was under the impression that he could decide where to hitch up for lunch. Seeing that we had a boat full of people, I let this slide even though he was going very much away from my usual coveted lunch spot. So here we are zipping along in the middle of the lake, when I see.....

Of course this is not the real picture of the real cat we saw in the middle of the lake. I am still cameraless. And picture dear kitty from behind- one little wet black head and two little wet black ears. Farther away. My sister (we are both stricken with cat-love but are both on spouse imposed cat-max) spots him too. Dear husband had a stroke of sanity and pulled up next to him and I grabbed a beach towel and scooped him up. Kitty was big. I would say part Siamese and definitely not feral. Thank god for big favors. Now we had to deal with the age old question: What to do with a scared, wet cat on a boat with 8 people in the 100 degree heat?

Dear kitty was amazingly calm. Dear husband and dear BIL were silently panicked. Who was going to end up breaking the cat laws of domestic bliss? We decide to head for the marina to find the Lost Kitty Stand. Actually we find two park rangers and tell them about dear kitty. They tell us they find all kinds of critters in the lake, mostly snakes that crawl on boats which then are trailered to the lake. The critters jump off in the water, unbeknownst to the boat owners. The park service does have a wayward animal station and they would take care of dear kitty and see if anyone comes looking for him. Dear husband and dear brother-in-law heave a sigh of relief. One dear ranger said his kids had just convinced him to get them a cat. So if no one claimed him, he would take him home himself.

So we took stock-

cat inflicted scratches- 0

wet beach towel with cat hair- 1

lost cat found and safe- 1

our own desperate housecats who do not appreciate how good they have it- 3

So now I will be forever searching the lake water for wayward cat ears......................... we should rename the boat Destiny Cat.

Star cookies on chocolate cake...heavenly......

2008-07-23T10:00:00.000-07:00

Cookies made by Sweet Dreams

Awwwww.........hear that?

2008-07-22T08:45:00.001-07:00

I didn't either. The only sound I can hear right now is the hum of my laptop. I forgot it even hummed. The three monsters are in day camp this week. I love 'em, but it is hard not being able to complete one thought for a month straight. They are having the time of their lives. I pick them up each day wet, muddy, full of stickers and burs, exhausted, grumpy, stinky and happy. It is well worth the price of admission.

Now back to our regularly scheduled program.......

OK, my procrastinating got me out of improging plethora. Which is good, because Hayley and Susan did it much better than I ever could. The new improg word of the week is PONYTAIL.

I must admit I envy the adult woman in ponytail. Mostly because I used to look good in them and now my hair is short. Because it got all funked up when I had chemo, imagine that. But for now, this new hairstyle is better for me than growing it out because it would look like a cross between Kramer and a malnourished poodle*. Really. My hair does seem to be returning to it's old texture, slow......ly.

* this, of course, is way better than being bald and on chemo

For now I will just have to fantasize pulling my hair back and putting it in a pony tail holder.

It will be thick and luxurious. It will jostle as I walk. And have pretty, natural highlights. Awww...but to dream......

My daughter has entered the ponytail age. No one warned me this area is fraught with danger. If I am unable to execute the ponytail exactly as she had hoped (all laws of physics not expected...) then the frump face comes out. Believe me, this does not ever go well. So here I would love any ponytail....and she isn't happy with any.....as they say.... life's a ponytailed bitch.

I once read an article that some guy wrote that discussed what kind of grease to use on a man's ponytail. I think this is a crime against humanity. What exactly goes through a white middle-aged man's mind when he decides this is the look for him? I find it amusing that "macho" men are embracing such an effeminate hairstyle. It didn't even look good on David Beckham.

I am waiting for the men to break out the pig tails. That would at least be amusing.

Maybe I should become a vigilante girl with scissors, saving the world one horrible man-tail at a time. I could probably take care of a few rat-boy tails too.

Watch out boys, snip, snip!! Ponytail Bitch is coming for ya!!

Sad but true....

2008-07-14T16:25:00.001-07:00

I am completely lost, dysfunctional, sorta depressed...all because my digital camera has gone to digital camera heaven- again. I can't blog, I can't wordless wednesday, I can't take a ridiculous number of pictures of the kids or the cats.

I was a first time camera widow about 6 months ago and now my latest one died. As in DEAD. Cost more to fix it than get a new one. Arghhhhhhhhh. Going to get a better/more sturdy/ more like my old Minolta 35mm but digital. Because of the dreaded BUDGET, have to wait a few more weeks. Anyway, if anyone has any recommendations for a new one, I am all ears. Camera must be able to withstand sand and roller coasters. I can tell new camera can't wait to meet me and it's new destiny......................

Another sad but true fact is our dog Nikki is at her End of Days. Lately she has been having a lot of trouble getting up off her dog bed. She is almost 14 and really has not been herself since we had to put her 14 year old "sister" dog down a year ago.
Major, our major goofus young dog, gave her a gift today. He found a dead baby bird (tiny, fell out of it's nest I assume) and he brought it over to her and put it on her dog bed. The baby bird looked like it was sleeping (i.e. not chewed up) and Nikki wagged her tail as she smelled it. Of course I am inferring here. But there is no other way this little bird made it onto her bed by itself. Major is so sweet, in a disgusting dog sort of way. It is weird how they must know some things..... he has never passed up the opportunity to chew up some dead animal before.....

I am listening to the kids blasting "Under My Rock" by Spongebob and Patrick.

The housing crisis has hit home. My 5 year old dear daughter has a homemade sign on her door that says "Sorry, HOUS UNAVILIBL" Of course, I would post a cute photo of this sign, but *sigh*

The last sad but true fact for the day is I don't wanna make dinner, but I have to- waaah!!

Ceiling anyone?

2008-07-09T08:40:00.000-07:00

Things I Have Learned Recently- Part 3

2008-07-06T16:33:00.000-07:00

You can make a capri-sun purse. How is that for being green?

You can have two fashion seasons: UGG boots and flip flops. Oh so comfy, and you can be the envy of fashionistas everywhere!

If you eat 6 cups of watermelon including the rind, it is comparable to taking a Viagra. (Information compliments of my hubbie)

According to male, teenage , foreign-exchange students from Sweden, my dear hubbie looks like John Travolta. I am checking into a look-alike career for him as we speak. I wonder how cold Sweden is in the winter.....

My cat Melissa thinks dry Grape Nuts are just as good as dry cat food. Crunch, crunch.

It is possible to take one 6 year old boy to a BBQ party and come home 3 hours later with same six year old boy who has accomplished: playing numerous football, soccer, dodge ball and basketball games with 5 teenage foreign exchange students (half of whom do not speak any English), a new knee scrape, a new arm scrape, a new ankle scrape (all separate occurrences), dog wrestling (2 different dogs), block building, bike riding, scooter riding, muddy feet, muddy shirt, wet shirt, wet shoes, missing socks, muddy and wet shorts, silly string hair, silly string ball wadded up in muddy shorts pocket, lemonade and brownie stained face, pinata booty and wagon ride down a steep hill initiation. This kid does more in three hours than I do in a year (or two!)

My other son wants to open up a "baby food only" restaurant and call it Gums-R-Us

According to dear daughter, your day can be defined as "the greatest day ever" if you wake up and your toe nail polish is still on. I just love her philosophy......

Beep, Beep.... Driving the Pet Waggin'

2008-07-02T08:16:00.000-07:00

Smitten

2008-07-01T10:48:00.000-07:00

My improg word of the week is smitten. Hmmm...my smitten list....

Going for the rhyme first.....

I am smitten with my new kitten. His name is Patrick and he is a terror. In a cute way of course. Much like my next smittens.....

I am smitten with my three kids. No explanation needed here. Oh, you know I can't resist....
They are occasionally terrors, terrifying or terrified. And so am I.

I am mostly smitten with dear husband, but he is on another list today......

Why do men have no clue sometimes? I wish he would just read my mind already, LOL.

OK, he just called. He is reading my mind. Speaking of terrible, dear s-list husband just called to tell me that a couple we know were both severely injured in a bicycle accident. I think I will go straight to get over it mode.

I am smitten with my new cell phone. I had been carrying around an old phone (a whole four years old- a real dinosaur). Now mine is almost as good as our 17 year -old baby sitter's phone.

Isn't it lovely? Did I mention that my old phone met it's demise by the hands of dear daughter and an adventure over a balcony?? I still have the same # people, so call me already!

IMPROGGING NONSENSE

2008-06-25T09:42:00.000-07:00

OK, improgging is not nonsense. I am improgging the word nonsense. As you can see by the definition below, I am an expert in this area.

NONSENSE
noun: a message that seems to convey no meaning, or an ornamental object with no value

I know plenty of these:

* emails I send

* convoluted blog posts (see any of mine)

* a lecture from the sales rep at the tile store about how carpet is bad for my health (you know vapors, chemicals) as she leaves for her smoke break

* pink ribbons will cure breast cancer

* claiming seat belts mess up your outfit

* complaining there is no full-length mirror at a mountain cabin (AKA get over yourself)

* walking out of your child's dental office with your new iphone, hop into your new Escalade and claim you "can't afford" $50 to fix your child's decayed teeth

* using a paper napkin to wipe your mouth when your shirt is so handy (ages 10 and under)

* thong underwear

* a logical explanation for retail therapy

* fat-free candy

* most things George Bush utters

* my age and weight

* some kids are naturally neat

Now this next part is not nonsense- I am happily in the lovely Lake Tahoe area for a week. My blogging capabilities will be severely limited for the time being. I promise to then have a vacation-renewed fabulous blog style rolling upon my return.................

FIERCE

2008-06-19T06:21:00.000-07:00

is my love for this girl. This girl, who cracks me up with her spirit every day. Now, I know those of you who do not know my daughter will think I am a bored housewife enraptured with my daughter's youth......well maybe I am, but enough about me. She really is a force unto herself. And she is smart, funny and brave. At the age of three, she broke my heart when she saw me get out of the shower, mastectomy scars in full display, and said "Momma, I hope my surgery looks just like yours when I grow up."
I love my boys too. More on them later.

Ten Things I Love About Her

1. When a girlfriend of mine called me to report she finally had some no-kid time and wanted to meet me for coffee, dear daughter was HIGHLY OFFENDED that she was not invited. Because we are her peer group and that was a total dis.

2. "Bella, Bella, Bella Dancerella, pretty little swamp, I can see....." that is how she sings it because that is what they say Mom. Duh! (I am pretty sure it is "pretty little swan", but what do I know? I do like her take on it.....)

3. I was muttering about how to possibly do her hair for her ballet recital. She has a short bob and they want hair in a bun, completely pulled back from face. She came to her not a french-braid, bun or anything fancy mom's rescue by stating "Oh, mom I have it all figured out in my head. You do a little ball on this side, another ball on the other side and just see the back natural. It will be great!" And she is right. Of course.

4. All my friends want her to get a cell phone. Because she wants one and they want to talk to her.

5. She always insists that Barbie drives and Ken rides shot gun.

6. She has a good sense of good vs. evil and was a little disappointed to hear "policemans" don't have cameras everywhere and arrest people on the spot when they break the law.

7. She pointed at the platform stripper shoes her new Barbie, a birthday gift, was wearing and inquired "Mom, what is up with that?"

8. She asked me if girls "can be firemen too?" She also asked if they had to go down that pole, or can they just take the stairs?

9. When the family plays touch football in the park, she plays center and can catch a pass and score a touchdown too. Oh and the grrrrrr football face she makes is pretty hilarious.

10. I was trimming her fingernails, which is sort of a wrestling match, and she declared "Mom, you are one FIERCE nail cutter!"

One Hit Wonder

2008-06-18T06:49:00.000-07:00

Life Is Not Fair Kinda Funny

2008-06-16T08:53:00.000-07:00

I am participating in IMPROG MONDAY. Basically with improg, you blog about the word of the day. Please check out the improg site for more information. You will see there is also an improg Friday, but I have a problem with biweekly commitment at this juncture..... :)
Everyone is welcome to join the fun!

Improg word today is fair. Surprisingly, for a Monday morning, my somewhat youthfully old (see Your Brain on Menopause) and confused brain (why are we thinking so early???) spits out two meanings for fair. The first one is fair, as in county fair, which is quickly discarded. Why you may ask? Because I am a dentist and county fair=missing teeth= can't stop staring at missing teeth= why don't they get their teeth fixed?= they are on drugs= they are running the rides on drugs= why did we bring the kids here again= @&%$!#$^$@!!= alright, let's not think about this anymore. As in never!!

The second meaning is fair as in fairness. As in life is not fair. Well, I could go on and on about this. But if I really wanted to go down this depressing road- I would read one of my breast cancer books or think why they made the stranger safety video my kids are watching right now or look at the latest news. So I am going with Life Is Not Fair Kinda Funny.

LIFE IS NOT FAIR because......

* my husband has his own home office with official desk, nice desk chair, new desktop computer, ability to close door and lock it
* I have an old laptop, no printer, no privacy (in the middle of the living room which is open to the rest of the house), one of the dining room chairs, an old table
* I have a daughter that at age 5, without my knowledge or consent, wrote on my Summer Kid Project List (which was in my desk) "clay tawers" I am not really sure why Karen's Mom's Freezer Paper Project and the tie-dye t-shirts were not enough projects for her this summer. I am not even sure what clay towers are. But I am sure that when I see her after the video, she will let me know. It it is not really fair that my daughter is so funny, smart, loving, creative, cute and motivated- but the other mothers will just have to envy me ;)
* my kids caught a cold, from some kid at school, on the very last possible day they were in school and could possibly catch a cold from someone there
* now that the laptop, desktop, boat, pool cover and something else I can't remember are fixed.... the camera just broke
* it is so much easier to spend money than save it and so much easier to gain weight than lose it (see above camera just broke, and I still like cake)
* my brain has fallen and it can't get up
* my son was talking about how he knows "how to find portals" and my poor brain was trying to figure out how this relates to the field trip I had just asked him about (note: it doesn't, try to keep up mom)
* after returning home from the beach, I discover pockets FULL of decaying dead crab parts in dear son's jacket...............some big parts, hundreds of tiny parts, all stinky parts. I really hate dead, stinky crab parts and checking pockets at the beach would have been oh so convenient.......
* I need to find a Blogger Rehab Program or start my own. It's summer vacation time people! And I am officially on duty to preserve and protect and restore order as necessary!!

So there you have it folks! Happy improg!

Some More Things I Have Learned

2008-06-12T08:10:00.000-07:00

1. Take one hot concrete step. Get one pair thin pants and one pair nylon undies. Combine pants and undies. Sit on step and bake at 95 degrees for one hour at your nephew's graduation. Yield 2 hot buns. Burnt buns to be exact. Exactly 2 red, burned butt cheeks. Ask your husband to rub aloe lotion on and serve.

Recipe compliments of my sister ;)

2. If you SWEAR TO GOD that you will only go in and buy the baby boy gift for your daughter's pregnant teacher and not a bunch of clothes for your daughter at The Children's Place....well ... you are going straight to hell.

3. There is only one style of bra, in the entire Victoria Secrets store, that does not have padding. And it is $45. Let's see- plain bra with no padding, twice as much? What is up with that?

4. If you buy a manga cartoon kit for your boys, you won't see them for 2 hours. how convenient at times.... They will draw cartoons that combine killer bees, rock stars, pet stores and ninjas. All in the same strip.

5. You can and will be corrected on the lyrics while singing "Laugh Cuckaberra, laugh cuckaberra" by your five year old.

6. She sings better than you.

IMPROG MONDAY

2008-06-09T21:10:00.000-07:00

IMPROG = IMPROV + BLOG. This concept was masterminded by my friends Hayley and Susan. Hayley set up an improg site and anyone is welcome to join the fun! This is my first improg.....so be gentle......

OK. Connection. So easy, so hard to blog about this word. Each day in the life, making new connections and shedding some old. Well, thank goodness. Otherwise, I would still be dragging around a blue fuzzy blanky and sneaking hershey's syrup from the can. I have the:

* not-always-easy connections (some family)

* mostly fabulous connection (dear husband and some other family)

* incredibly, overwhelmingly intense connections (my three kids)

* now distant connections (high school and college friends)

* close connections (friends about now)

* connections with people I have never met in person or spoken to (bloggy friends and discussion board friends)

* an emotionally fierce connection with some other cancer survivors- breast or otherwise.

There are connections I shake off fast (idiots!) and some I am embarrassed to have (there was poop in the washing machine survivor club). I also have connections to our pets, nature and art. Some books make a great connection for me, as do some sweets ;)

I still have connections yet to come. That is the best part- the ifs and whens of the connections I have yet to make. Hopefully they will be plenty and strong. Hopefully I will still be in connection with my best connections today. Hopefully I will be there to have my grand children's connection.

So the word connection to me can be as simple as one thread holding a button on my shirt, or it can be as infinitely complex as the depth of my soul and yours. Yes YOU, person reading this blog. What a crazy connected world. So I a wishing YOU the best connections and Happy Improg Monday!

No, that brown wad in the washer is not brown play-doh....

2008-06-05T08:27:00.000-07:00

Some of you may remember I washed an animal's mandible in the clothes washer a few months ago. I have diligently checked all pants pockets since. But, alas, underwear do not have pockets. And I must confess that the brown play-doh, that somehow made it through the wash and spin cycle, was too fascinating. How did it end up in a ball on top of the clothes? Before any logic, reason or sanity could hit me,

I..... picked...... it...... up.

I..... squeezed........... it.

AAarrrrggggghhhhh!!!!

OK, I feel better now. Confession is good for the soul. Now I need a CSI kit to find the perp.

And on an entirely different note, (but still involving a derriere) I must congratulate Hayley, who is literally working her butt off. I had the pleasure of lunch with her the other day and I couldn't help but notice that my BUTT IS AT LEAST TWICE THE SIZE of hers now. OK, I am really mad at myself and happy for her. But she has officially inspired me to get my act together.

Of course, I like cake. So I drew one. It turns out to be my last cake hurrah.

OK, I will not deprive the world of seeing me enjoy cake entirely, but I will just be having small pieces now and again.

Happy Trails and Happy Cake!!!

Why we drive 6 hours to Lake Tahoe

2008-06-04T08:41:00.000-07:00

Pink Can Stink

2008-05-30T14:47:00.000-07:00

I do not care (putting it lightly) for the mass marketing of the pink ribbon. I am all for breast cancer awareness and for raising money to find a cure. But I HATE when companies play it to make a profit. Pink ribbon everything.... going to have to brace myself in a few months for October's Pink Ribbon Hell. The reason is because most of these companies donate nothing or pennies for every profit dollar made off selling pink ribbon products.

For example, I was flipping through Heal magazine. Love the magazine! Great articles, a real asset for the cancer survivor. But I do chuckle a little when I see the ad for Arimidex because I didn't get my hot pink boxing gloves when I was given this prescription. And they seem pretty important in beating breast cancer.....

Anyway while looking at Heal magazine, I saw a particularly awful piece of pink crap being advertised. I mean really awful, tacky, hideous. I am so sorry if I offend anyone that actually likes these little collectibles. But here she is..... The Hope Shoe Collectible!

Price is $19.95 + $6.99 "shipping and service". Also, in the full-page ad, it states
"A portion of the proceeds from the sale of these limited-edition charity keepsakes will be donated to help in this important fight"

I thought that sounded suspiciously vague. So I emailed them and specifically asked what percentage of the proceeds are donated to charity and what specific charity or charities the funds are dedicated. The answer was as follows:"As per your email, 2% of each item sold goes to Breast Cancer Research."

OK, so out of the ~$27 dollars that a customers spends on this ~~crap~~ product, an entire forty cents is donated to "Breast Cancer Research." We can only hope that she meant the Breast Cancer Research Foundation.

Obviously, if you just donate the $27.00 directly to breast cancer foundation instead, we win and the profiteers lose. Please check out the think before you pink website to look up which pink ribbon campaigns are worthwhile. And a big fat Boo Hiss Award to all the companies trying to profit on the fear, pain and suffering that breast cancer causes.

Surf's Up at the Dump

2008-05-28T07:28:00.000-07:00

The Marge News Report

2008-05-23T09:04:00.000-07:00

In recent developments....

1) My "m" key is on this fritz. So annoying!

2) I a going to the dup on Tuesday.

OK, put in a couple of m's for AM and DUMP. (See #1)
My son's third grade field trip is in need of adults. I am looking for my rubber boots today.

3) Kittens fart.

4) I do not know how to take a photo with my cellphone. I do not know how to send any phone photo to anyone else either. Apparently, my four year old daughter can do both.

I was sitting at my desk when my cellphone beeped. Text message. I don't know how to text anyone either. Message from my sis "Cute." How did she know I was? LOL, I call her to tell her she is losing her mind and she tells me I just sent her a picture of our new kitten. Oh, dear daughter.............

I think I can write a Dr. Seuss-like story:
I do not know how ......I do not know how .......daughter says "WOW, how can you not know how?"

5) The entire state of California can be rainy and stormy for Memorial Day Weekend. Oh ya, we can have tornadoes and hail storms too.

6) There is a need for all the broken jewelry and little beads and what not that I have accumulated. Please consider donating yours to Buttons and Dollars. My friend Hayley has a great post with contact information on her blog.

7) We have four bluebird nests in our menagerie of bird houses this spring. We also have at least two king snakes hanging out near the play structure. We hope they all play nice.

8) FOUND (when I cleaned out all the cabinets): pickles that were best by April 2004, twenty tubes of dried up frosting, thong underwear (worn for exactly 10 seconds) and a note from my then 6 year old son that said Mom, I need to speak to you up to my room right now. From your son. I found tons of other junk too. Want. To. Stop. Buying. Crap. Now.

9) If, by chance, a jelly bean rolls unnoticed under the griddle on your cook top, and you cook on the griddle for a week before you notice.....................well you are screwed.
Burnt, melted, stuck-on-there-forever screwed.

10) There is such thing as a drive by hissing. Just ask Melissa. I decided this is much better than a drive by farting. See #3.

11) My husband can do a dead-on Homer Simpson voice "I've got three words for ya Marge.................go... to........ the...... store! " (insert Homer laugh here)

And yes, I need to go to the store- see excuse #5, and reason why I don't wanna #8.

I guess I still need food around these parts....
But I have lost my appetite, reality #3.

Just a few laps outta do it.....................

2008-05-21T06:40:00.000-07:00

Housecats of America

2008-05-17T08:21:00.000-07:00

Poor things. It is a shame really that they such have a rough life. Especially in recent economic times. They might have to sleep a little more to conserve energy. So out of respect for their plight- I have a new design:

They started offering pet bowls at cafepress, so I felt obliged to create some designs for them. My pet section is just starting- check back soon as I have more in the pipeline!

Me Wuv Football, Me Tired

2008-05-14T06:18:00.000-07:00

I Can Be Frugal....I Can Be Frugal.....

2008-05-12T19:42:00.001-07:00

I am trying to stay on budget for the first time in...... well ever. In the last few months, I have managed it by the skin of my teeth. Of course the price of everything, coincidentally, is going way up just to spite me ;)

And thanks to Susan I am more conscious of what we throw away.
So the story goes, dear daughter's booster seat is a hand-me-down, 5 year old thing. In perfectly good functional state, but the fabric is irreversibly nastified. Honestly, no one stain is too horrible. But her seat pales in comparison to dear daughter's friend's booster seats. New. Pink cheetah. Pink sheepskin. Pink Moo Cow. Dear daughter wanted a new booster seat. It would be ~$90 and she will probably need a booster seat for about 2 more years. (Side note: her poor brother is almost seven and only weighs 47 pounds. I think he will be in junior high before he hits the 60-pound booster-free zone since he has been gaining only one or two pounds a year.)

Now I was considering.............peer pressure at four years old........but the seat is kinda gross..........but we don't NEED a new one..........but she hasn't whined about it, just asked nicely a couple of times.............but I NEED to stay on budget........

then, brace yourselves, I had a fabulous idea. It was spur of the moment and cost exactly $14.99 (plus tax).

Here is my solution

Solution=Recycled Booster Seat

So I am happy to save $75, happy to not give or throw away a booster seat. Dear daughter is thrilled that she got to pick out the shiniest, hot pinkiest fabric in the store. I just tied back the stretchy veloury fabric (does anyone know the proper term?) with some silver ribbon. No sewing required. We are good to go. I think I can even wash it as needed.

So I tell dear husband the story of how I saved us $75 and all he had to say was "If you saved us any money, just put it on my dresser."

Getting Inked and Getting Patrick

2008-05-09T08:40:00.000-07:00

We have a couple of new additions. First- the cute one. Dear husband relented and agreed to *gasp* a new kitten. His name is Patrick and he has been here one day. He is pretty cute, don't cha think? He is just the right mix of cute, playful, purry, curious, hyper, naughty and sleepy. The jury is out with our veteran cats. One is still in full hiss mode and the other is warming up to the little guy.

Dear husband was sweet. "Did they potty train him yet?"

Next up is my new ink. I am getting a tattoo on my stomach. You would think my mid-life crisis would have been over with the boob job and the tummy tuck......... Anyway, breast cancer is the gift that keeps on giving. I was given a 24" scar above my pants line from the reconstruction. Hated it-looked like a shark attack. So cherry blossom branches are in the works. No black and very few blossoms are planned. I have all the main branches and some leaves done. Note inflamed areas. I had no idea tattooing was so painful- like a sunburn for a few days.

If you look close you can see the scar lurking. Trust me, it is much more noticeable in live flesh. And the tattoo is prettier in person too! It will probably be done in a few weeks.

Just Standing in Line at Disneyland

2008-05-07T03:23:00.001-07:00

Squirrel's Store

2008-05-06T07:51:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I knew it was coming. I am a seasoned veteran by now. The signs were there. Literally. Silly me assumed they were taped. They were glued.

You see, I have attended many shows and patronized many shops organized by my kids. I think my most expensive purchase was a 25 cent rubber ball and I have seen "The Worst Magic Show Ever" for 10 cents. I guess the modern world does not deal with cents anymore, because my keyboard does not have a cents symbol. Anyway, I guess I am happy the kids are such entrepreneurs.

OK, back to Squirrel's Store. I went after school.

I had to chose my package: hairstyle + face painting + nails or nails+ hairstyle + face painting. I picked the first one. Cost me a quarter. Now I look closer at the poster Squirrel's brother, The Artist, drew up for her.

Hairstyle choices: choice 1- Mohawk, choice 2- spiky hair, choice 3- pretty girl, choice 4- handsome boy, choice 5- unisex. Some were crossed off, so I assumed they got complaints about those. I must note that these were my interpretations. I chose #3 (pretty girl) because who knows? Maybe she can perform a miracle. I was informed that #3 was braids and was not for me. Hair too short. So I then pick #5 (unisex) and my stylist informs me she is not sure it will work because "Your hair is real crazy." Dear Squirrel has not seen Seinfeld- or else she would have said the fact- it looks like Kramer's hair even on a good day.

I got my hair combed, "blow dried" and then we went on to face painting. I passed because the face paint supply was actually nail polish. Now I know why her brother was complaining about the makeup she put on his chest. I kept telling him to wash it off in the shower and he kept saying it would not come off. Then I picked out a nail polish color. Trust me the bright green was the best.

Then she had to get to her next customer, and brushed me off. Didn't even ask me when I would like to make my next appointment. Her assistant was pretty lazy- he just laid there.

So I am 25 cents poorer, but oh so rich in my heart.

Asphalt Jungle

2008-05-01T10:39:00.000-07:00

Before I start on my new topic, I wanted to give an update on Squirrel's baby doll. Today, I spotted her sans giant pull-up. She has butterfly and heart stamps all over the back of her head and neck. I am not sure what she and Squirrel have been up to recently, but she (baby, I think her name is WooWoo) looks pretty tired.

Now back to our regularly scheduled program.................

I have seen some pretty interesting things on the road. Literally on the road, in our very neighborhood. We moved here almost three years ago. While we were building our home, I would drive by daily during chauffeur duty. One day, as I am driving up a steep hill, I see a squirrel or something on the road. Expect it to move quickly away, doesn't move...wait it will run any minute....OMG! It is a tarantula in all it's glory. And no- it did not move more than an inch. Luckily, I had room to maneuver around it. I later told our builder that some one's pet tarantula was running around loose. He laughed and said they live here. What??? I think I had seen a few tarantulas- but they were always in a glass CASE at the ZOO.
Now, three years later the tarantulas and we are friends. They are actually interesting, not that aggressive and only come out August and September. I have made friends with much worse....

Last summer, I was zipping down the driveway to get the kids from school. Luckily I wasn't changing the station and my brakes were working pretty well, because stretched out across the driveway, soaking up the sun, in all it's glory, was a 5 foot king snake. Now, I did not know it was a king snake at the time. Not a snake expert. But I did know it was not a rattle snake. OK... I am waiting for him to move. Waiting.......move the car a little more..... Not moving.....looking my way, but not moving. What the heck am I going to do now? I am armed with a purse and maybe a flashlight. I get out and kind of stamp my feet and he slowly slithers over the curb of the driveway all the while staring at me with his beady little eyes. The scary thing is the second he was entirely over the curb, he became completely INVISIBLE in the grass. Remember, he was 5 feet long. There could be dozens out there for all I know. Found out king snakes are harmless and do eat gophers, so I consider him a new friend as well.

Well, of course animal traffic does get weirder. The other day, I was driving down the road. *Funny how it always starts out that way* and I see a furry, little something galloping down the road. Oncoming traffic! It turns out to be a big mouse. "Why is this critter running down the road?" I was wondering- probably out loud to myself. Well, it turns out, a cat was chasing him down the road. Of course, I mean why else would the mouse cross the road? Actually, they weren't crossing. They obeyed all traffic laws and stayed in their lane. There were no other cars around, so you will just have to take my word for it.

I wish I could have taken a picture, but the best I could do was try to photoshop something. We passed each other- destination and destiny unknown. Good luck mouse.

Blubber is Cute on Momma and Pup

2008-04-30T06:21:00.000-07:00

Mine Got Talent

2008-04-25T09:57:00.000-07:00

OK, we are not signing up anyone for a reality show or Martha Stewart Living. But I slowed down enough recently to be really impressed with the skills in this household.
Of course my skills, I still struggle to ignore ;)

First up is oldest son, otherwise known as The Experimentator. We have a standard Don't Ask, Don't Tell Policy. If we do have to go into his bathroom for something, we do it quick. Or else we may see the crusted counter and mirror. You will thank me for not photographing the crusted floor. He does "clean" his own bathroom for allowance. I am proud he has the ingenuity to try new things.

But I am not sure what his Calamine, Benadryl concoction was made for. I don't even see said concoction. It is probably in his sock drawer........Not to self: turn to the manual Don't Ask, Don't Tell. I am slightly worried, however, as it is the start of poison oak season and we may now be low on supplies............

Second up is younger son, the artist. He has good three-dimensional spacial awareness. Even when he eats. It ain't pretty (the eating) but it is interesting. We caught him "after hours drawing". Funny how he chose to draw on his futon, on his homemade Sponge Bob box, next to the recently purchased "Boss Toss." You load up a plastic boss (notice tiny little plastic bosses) in the gun and shoot him/her out. Somehow he lawyered me into getting it because Boss Toss doesn't have bullets, so it is not a toy gun. He doesn't understand that to really enjoy the Boss Toss, you need an actual boss. He still thinks it is fun.

Oh and he has a big desk with a lamp that is perfect for drawing. But I must say his volcano looks pretty good- so who am I to criticize his method? He is also sky jump boy from previous post below. He was doing double back flips. He was 3 stories up! I was too tired and cold to be fretful. No I take that back, I am a cool mom!

And here is dear daughter. AKA Squirrel. More on that later. She is practicing to "be a mommy." She loves to "take care" of her baby. Notice she tattooed her name on babies head, added a few stickers for good measure and then put her in a giant pull up. If I was that baby- I wouldn't be making a peep! She is also helping her dance teacher pick out the recital costumes. At 4 already a fashion consultant.

And I recently discovered my other boys are fabulous broiler pan cleaners. No more soaking in the sink for 2 days. Now I can just put it out on the back porch and it is all clean within 30 minutes. Just a little rinse and I'm done. Thanks guys!

Now, DH is very talented too. He has in the last 12 months: coached 1 soccer team, one football team, head coached 2 basketball teams, taught 4 kids how to ski, took on head football coach for next year's team, played on a men's basketball team, played on a coed volleyball team and worked full-time. And he takes the kids to school every morning. Saint Husband requires prior approval for posted pictures- so I will get back to you on that one.

That is all for now. Everyone have a great weekend!

if you love him, set him free

2008-04-23T06:27:00.000-07:00

Jan Porterfield Watercolors

2008-04-22T12:26:00.000-07:00

I just love the colors and intricate, yet bold floral designs. Aren't they fabulous? And who could not love this circus chicken?

Jan died from colorectal cancer last year. Her husband Jeff has lovingly set up a store featuring some of her work: Jan Porterfield Watercolors

He is generously donating all proceeds from sales to charity.

I marvel the beauty of Jan's work, the love and devotion of her husband, and the ability for us all to use the world-wide web to make world-wide connections. I don't think I would have been able to witness Jan's legacy without it.

And I am so buying that circus chicken print soon! What joy it will bring our family. I hope you all have the opportunity of art in your life!

Forget the Prince

2008-04-17T21:31:00.000-07:00

Just did my first-spend-all-day-drawing art. It is a design of a fairy and I think she looks pretty good. I put her in a few designs in my shops. This is my favorite:

I never was the wait for the prince to sweep me off my feet girl. Of course, I was lucky enough to meet and marry a prince eventually ;) I am now working on a garden fairy design. If anyone has any other fairy ideas you want to donate to my cause- I am all ears! You can check out what I have so far in my cancer and smart girls shops. One fairy design is hidden in the smart girls' mother earth section.

Anyway, we are heading out for our for a last-of-the-season ski trip and I will be blogless (boohoo) until later next week.

I will miss you all, my bloggy friends.

Free

2008-04-16T05:06:00.001-07:00

Photo credit: Hayley Townley

I Love Spring

2008-04-15T09:06:00.000-07:00

It is a time for change and new beginnings.

Around here- this is the evidence of spring:
Dogs get frisky and wrestle more. Can you spot all three? Old Lady even gets off her bed when the sun is shining.

The mud kitchen and bath is open. No wonder I can't find any of my utensils.

The boat and the model 2000 Cozy Coupe have come out of storage. Of all the made in China crap we have gotten the kids- this little car has been the most used and loved. She is on kid#3 and other than a missing gas cap- she is looking pretty good.

The hummingbird feeder is still up and running. Waiting for hummingbirds to arrive. Dear son may still be poaching. Major has his tongue out for some reason. He may be poaching too.

Since the winter wind storms took care of our canopy and umbrella, dear husband is hoping this camping canopy is going to fly. It ain't gonna.
Update: we just had a little wind and blue canopy is down. I said canopy down. I stand corrected- it is going to fly. Looks like we will be shopping. Poor dear husband just dragged the remains off. What is the deal? Need wind-proof canopy.

The "Shacuzzi" is open. Pool still polar bear cold.

But the hills are green...

I put away all the winter coats and now we just have the spring coats in the appropriately named mud room. Aren't you happy for me? A completely ~~organized~~ ~~less cluttered~~ usable mud room.

And I have opened my bathing suit drawer. Slowly.....Looked in. Do any of them still fit? No pictures. You all are safe. Besides, my legs are currently a science-fiction shade of pale.

Wishing everyone a Happy Spring and beyond!

WoooHooo I am a Winner

2008-04-11T09:34:00.000-07:00

I want to thank Popsicles and Lollipops for having a bloggy give-away and drawing my name. I won a vintage trio. I must, I must get my sewing machine in action. Oh, the update on the machine is I need to get it serviced :(

Fame and fortune, vintage fabric pillows and possibly my pride will have to wait until I cross this off my "Honey-Do-It-Yourself list".

Honey-Do-It-Yourself List:

* find place to service sewing machine, bring it in (new addition)

* get dear sons to send thank Q's to the people that donated to their school fundraiser (good luck with that one)

* plan dear daughter's 5th birthday party with child-chosen theme: karaoke and swimming (maybe decorate with a fish and microphone?)

* put together a Breast Cancer Surgery binder for the cancer resource center (doesn't this bring up fond memories?)

* call a local printing shop and beg them to let me get a better price on 12 shirts, because I can't afford to print 48

* make a No Hair Day design for a baseball cap and donate some to the cancer center

* fix ipod or laptop or whichever is screwing up- can't charge up the ipod now (why oh why must these things be so hard??!!)

* check out the stuff on the boat that has been under wraps all winter: moldy granola bars, dried-out wipes, rusted utensils, congealed sunscreen, soggy toilet paper. (Actually if these are the only things I find- I will consider myself lucky.)

Oh the fun, the glamour... Wait- that is Hayley!

Anyway, a couple of recent funnies...... My daughter walks in the kitchen this morning and asks me "Mom, remember yesterday when we had that peace?"
(She was referring to the 15 minutes we had to put together a puzzle in her room while her brothers were ~~doing something sneaky and naughty~~ being quiet. And no I didn't remember!)

I was making dinner last night, while talking to dear hubby and supervising dear son browning the ground turkey. I pushed the trash can in. It is on sliders in the cabinet. It kind of bounced back, tried again, finally on the third try it goes all the way back and I close the cabinet. About 5 minutes later I hear "Mmmeeoooowww? " from the trash can cabinet.

Poor Melissa (AKA wet butt fir in my kitchen sink) kitty.

new kittie, bird watching, AKA Wet Butt Fur in my Sink

2008-04-09T07:18:00.000-07:00

Mystery Solved

2008-04-06T20:25:00.000-07:00

I like birds. I like birds. Did I say I like birds? I feel guilty that we cut down some trees to build our home. To make up for it, I have been feeding the wild birds, including the turkeys, relentlessly. This last summer, I added a hummingbird feeder to my circuit. Loved watching those hummers. They were bossy and sneaky. The feeding politics reminded me of the corporate world: one top bird, the rest scurrying around the feeder whenever they could, looking like they were doing something else if the boss flew in.

Anyway, I expected the nectar to go unused at some point this past winter when the hummers left or hibernated or whatever. Note to self: read up on all those bird books. But the nectar kept getting slurped up, and I never saw any hummingbirds. I figured they were just shy in the winter, so I mindlessly kept refilling the feeder. You know where this is going right????

Today Dear Son walks around the corner outside the house kind of licking his face and hands. I asked what he was tasting and he told me "that great hummingbird juice."

So there you have it. And I was blaming dear husband for the sugar highs. And this boy has two dentists for parents. They will probably write me up at the ADA.

On a different note, I overheard my dear daughter's bedtime banter with her dad. She said " Dad, I know you stole mom and you are not my real dad!" (He made her clean up her room.) I piped in asking "Where was I when he stole me?" She replied "MOM!! This is a CONVERSATION, so don't listen!"

Thanks Hillary

2008-04-03T21:01:00.000-07:00

My 4 yo asked me what sniper fire was today. I guess I shouldn't listen to the news so much in the car. I was her age during Vietnam- but don't even remember hearing ANYTHING about that war. And my dad was in the Navy. But he was not in the war, thank goodness.

Today, something wonderful happened. I went to help out our local Cancer Resource Center. They are having their grand opening on Saturday. I would have loved to have a place like this when I was diagnosed. You kind of expect them to hand you your "To Do List" when you get your diagnosis. What to do, who to see, how to tell your family, etc. Uh uh, nuh uh. You (in the height of emotional turmoil) have to figure out everything yourself. Dr. Google didn't help either. Anyway, this new place for people with cancer is AWESOME. So much information in a soothing, beautiful place.

I met a man there, whose daughter died of cancer several years ago. He set up a foundation in her name. The foundation has many fundraisers. They help cancer centers all over the state of CA by buying them computers and libraries. He was there setting up the brand-new Macs. What love, dedication and generosity.

OK to lighten the mood, here is one of my breast cancer cartoons. I don't know if it is universally funny, but it really did ALMOST happen to me:

And finally, tonight my hubby decided to take the kids out to dinner unsupervised. He let them order some volcano/ice cream/hot fudge monster after dinner. Kids were on a sugar high at 8pm. They were upstairs giggling for an hour and then they clomp down the hardwood stairs (at 9:30!) looking like this:

It is now almost 10 and the sugar crash tears have begun!

My Chemo Roses- we planted this rosebush two years ago the day I finished chemo

2008-04-02T06:42:00.001-07:00

Hooked on Blogging

2008-03-31T21:54:00.000-07:00

Hayley was right. This blogging is fun (and addictive) and adds an entire new dimension to my life- hooray! Anyway, I will keep it short today (cheers from the crowd) and just tell you all I worked all day on some bloggy text designs. Of course, they are just waiting for your viewing and buying pleasure at my bloggy cafepress shop. I have a few more designs in line, but I must go to bed now... Please tell me which ones you like best!

I do have enough energy to tell you all how I was looking for my big, blue glass bowl today to make the pasta. Couldn't find it. Was gazing out the window and I saw it outside, up the hill on the stone bench. Upon further inspection- it was full of muddy water and tadpoles. This is work by the same artist as jawbone in the laundry. I did put the tadpoles back in the pond before making dinner.

Confessions

2008-03-28T21:05:00.000-07:00

1) I am getting grey highlights in my hair. Isn't silver the new blond?

2) I found THE sewing machine manual, 4 days after I paid $20 to order a new one, in a box of Easter decorations. This is exceptionally ironic because not only was it in the Easter decorations box instead of the sewing box, but I did not get the decorations out until the day before Easter. Extreme procrastination and disorganization= $20.

3) My friend Jan was brave enough to thread my machine once I unearthed the manual. Thank you Jan. Thus, I have forgiven her for bringing each of my kids a large chocolate easter bunny. Off with their ears! Note: only 2 ear less bunnies. One is MIA, either in a tummy or under a bed..... a worry for another time.

Notice Jan is smiling while touching a sewing machine manual. It can be done.

4) We just went on a fabulous ski vacation. I forgot my digital camera. I found a disposable camera. Disposable one got soaked in the backpack when the water bottle leaked. I think Murphy is getting his laws in my paws.

5) I have convinced myself that my mid-day snack of roasted almonds and chocolate chips is a serving of fiber and anti-oxidants.

OK, enough confessing already. I am signing off with a picture just for Mamageek. This was what my 6 year old tried to smuggle into the car on our recent ski trip. The obsession never ends..........It must have weighed 20 pounds. I am thinking Matchbox 200? Note: I tripped over this suitcase when we got home today. Dear son could not get this heavy suitcase back up the stairs. Murphy- please move out!

This is the Enemy

2008-03-19T17:29:00.001-07:00

Alright. I know it is just a sewing machine. I have been thinking of a project (a secret, will tell ya later) and it involves sewing. The last time I used this machine was in 2001. I needed the help of our babysitter to get it set up. I remember the manual saying "put the bobbin in...." Well, they neglected to show what the heck the bobbin looked like, and I guess they didn't anticipate a complete newbie. So, with help of babysitter, and some blood, sweat and tears, I made some curtains for dear baby #2. Of course they are in the attic now- too babyish for big boy. And today, the babysitter is long gone too. And so apparently is the instruction manual. (As a side note: the three Venuses statue mysteriously gets turned around all the time. Not sure if the boys or dear husband dislike the nude front view or if they do like the back view.)
I got everything out of the sewing box in the attic. Note lack of manual. Note big white plastic thing- no idea what that is. Note sewing box. Did I pick that out? Because it is ugly.

OK, let's take everything out of the box:

I got my hopes up with those folded papers. Maybe the manual. Nope- just blank folded papers. Why do you need folded papers to sew? Found a little box that had directions inside. It is a metal "patchwork foot" and directions for the "patchwork foot." I must have burned the manual after the bobbin incident. This is all very interesting. Apparently you need several white and blue pencils, tiny screwdrivers, tiny oil and a tiny magnifying glass to sew. I am quite impressed with my pin cushion and the fact that it can't be lost, as it is attached by 1,000 pieces of thread to the 1,000 spools in the sewing box. I found out what a bobbin is, because I found a package that says "bobbins." But no manual. Had to go online to order one. It will take a week or so to arrive. Pull out this book:

Published in 1957.
Either:
A) my mother gave me this book and I forgot because I have CRS
B) I bought this book at a used book store and can't remember because I have CRS
C) a sweet little old lady patient of mine gave it to me years ago along with the New York Times Cookbook. I know she gave me the cookbook, at least. Probably because either my lack of homemaking skills were evident just looking at me, or I talked about the lack thereof sometime during her appointments.
Probably C. I tend to blab.

So looking at the book, I was trying to remember why I semi-loathe sewing. Remember, I have CRS. Random thought process: I made a dish towel for my sewing badge. That was relatively painless, although the other girl scouts made all kinds of stuff: aprons, doll clothes, ponchos. (It was the 70's.) I took Shop instead of Home Ec in junior high. My mom sewed a lot. Hmmm..... not sure. But then I opened up the book, thinking I should brush up on the basics before the manual arrives. The following are excerpts from the first page:

When you sew, make yourself as attractive as possible. Go through a beauty ritual of orderliness. Have on a clean dress. Be sure your hands are clean, fingernails smooth- a nail file and pumice will help. Always avoid hangnails. Keep a little bag of French chalk near your sewing machine where you can pick it up and dust your fingers at intervals....Have your hair in order, powder and lipstick put on with care. Looking attractive is a very important part of sewing, because if you are making something for yourself, you will try it on at intervals in front of your mirror, and you can hope for better results when you look your best.
Again, sewing must be approached with the idea that you are going to enjoy it, and if you are constantly fearful that a visitor will drop in or your husband come home and you will not look neatly put together, you will not enjoy your sewing as you should. Therefore "spruce up" at the beginning so that you are free to enjoy every part of any sewing you do.

OK I slam shut the book. I know it is not 1957, thank god, but this mentality carried over a little for me. I was a tomboy/feminist/career girl. Now I am ready to embrace all things domestic. Besides, it could be my ticket to fame and fortune, otherwise known as secret mission. But these days I don't have a clean dress. I am not hang-nail-free. Don't even talk to me about lipstick and powder.

But how cool would it be to be able to sew all kinds of stuff?? I would love to hear from people that enjoy sewing, but please don't tell me it is easy. I still have a long learning-curve ahead. And I will let you know how my secret sewing project goes.

In conclusion, I photographed Wilbur, just after he completed his tendu. Sorry folks, couldn't get the camera fast enough to catch the actual act, but that is probably a good thing.

Thanks for listening good people!

One Fine Day: Tracy Arm Fjord, Alaska

2008-03-18T22:19:00.003-07:00

Off to Seattle

2008-03-13T08:43:00.000-07:00

Seattle is a great place. I should know, as I have been there 6 times in the past year. Tonight is trip number seven. Oh what a glamorous life I lead. Fooled you! I am going up there to participate in a cancer vaccine clinical trial. My glamorous day entails waking up at 2 am, driving 3 hours to the airport, flying to Seattle, catching a shuttle to the hospital where I donate a boat-load of blood, and some pieces of skin that I apparently don't need. Then I catch the shuttle back to the airport and make my way home. On the plane, I get to wear one of those fashionable old-lady arm girdles. So my arm doesn't look like the elephant man for the rest of my life.

Am I sounding bitter? Well crap, I was only 38 when this diagnosis hit me out of the blue. It has been a long 2.5 years. Literally every month, I find out people I know (online) are on their deathbed from this disease. I do get a little bitter about it. So my Cancerspeaks Store is a little funny and a little bitter- just like me. This design is me at my most pissed, cause it ain't pretty and it ain't pink:

But this is my last venture up to Seattle. This vaccine, for very aggressive and "advanced" cancers, may have saved my life. All of the people involved with the study are fabulous. And they could not be nicer, except for all those needles-LOL.

And I am fine. All tests are clear. All surgery done. All herceptin done. Oncologist said "I don't think it is coming back Marge." I want him to sign a t-shirt or something! For the first time in over 2 years I had to cut a fingernail instead of watching it peel away. My hair is still Kramertized, patience my dear, patience.

I am moving on (just this last little pit stop in cancerland) and I have even started a beautiful henna-looking tattoo on my 24" abdominal scar. See breast reconstruction site if you are wondering why my abdomen is affected. My once "hide that damn scar at all costs" is now a work of art. I love it! In a few months I will post a picture. I go in once a month for a session. It is about half outlined so far.
Now for the good news. Dear husband and I decided to make this last trip special. So...... my sisters are both coming down to stay with the kids (good luck to them! :) and hubby is flying up with me. We are staying the weekend together. We are going to do all kinds of grownup stuff (get your mind out of the gutter-LOL) : eat at nice restaurants, go see a Supersonics game, museums, read the paper (and some other grown up stuff) in bed.

I might have to bark an order at somebody. Just so I don't get homesick. My sisters spoil the kids rotten- so they are excited for the weekend too.
Catch up will you all next week- have a great one!

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

2008-03-12T04:58:00.000-07:00

A jaw bone I washed in the laundry. Crayons, rocks and marbles I expect.... keeping me on my toes these kids. I may have to rethink buying all those cargo pants. I am not hot on this kind of cargo. And I can't check all 10 pockets in those durn pants!

A Poem

2008-03-09T20:09:00.000-07:00

Mom, You Are Meaner Than You Think You Are

"Mom, you are meaner than you think you are!"
screamed my beautiful four-year-old daughter,
seemingly out of the blue.

Maybe it was the outfit I wouldn't buy (hideous)
Or more probably,
Turning down cupcake number two.

Maybe it was all the scolding
About taking off sand-loaded shoes.
In the house, the car, the dance studio,
So much sand does this little girl ooze.

Maybe it was beyond sassy attitude,
or craved i pod and pierced ears.
So many things that wouldn't fly.
Or the rush for makeup, nail polish, cell phone.
So many things I am not ready to buy.

Maybe she knows I am wishing she won't grow up just yet,
That will have to wait a least a year or two.
So to my four-year-old daughter I said,
"Come hug the mean, old mother of you."

Some Questions I Have

2008-03-07T07:47:00.000-08:00

1) Is Girl Scout Cookie season over yet? I hope so crunch, crunch.

2) Does anyone else have a gas tank that keeps moving to the other side of their car? That is pretty annoying.

3)What the hell is a super delegate? Are they getting swag?

4) Why does my cat prefer dog food and my dog prefer cat food?

5) Why do I wonder why my daughters room looks like this:

when my visiting parents see her room, they both say it reminds them of when I was little?

6)Are little boys allergic to pairs of socks?

7) Why have I been at the age where all the clothes for women look too young or too old? And I have been at this stage for YEARS?

8) How long does it take to properly train a husband?

9) How many cool people am I going to meet blogging? So many funny blogs, so little time.

10) I forgot my last question. Must have that stay-at-home-momheimers that someone was telling me about. Who was that again?

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

2008-03-05T06:36:00.003-08:00

A Morning in the Life

2008-03-02T07:47:00.000-08:00

6:20 am
Dear 9 year old son at my bedside "Mom, where are some boxes? I am putting all my favorite movies together and I need a box this big." Stretches his hands out.

Me (half asleep): "Huh?"

6:40 am
Click! Dear 9 year old son is back. "Mom, don't move. I am trying to take a picture of the cat."

Me (in denial): "Why don't you get ready for school?"

Dear Son: "WHAT??!!! I thought it was Saturday. This is the worst day of my life!"

7:30 am

In kitchen. 9 year old dear son seems to have recovered from the worst day in his life:

"Mom, you know why I like you? You are smart and you have lots of great ideas."

Husband: "What about me son? I am pretty smart too."

Dear Son: "Well, you are kinda smart Dad. You just don't like to show it."

7:45 am

Dear 4 year old daughter shows up for breakfast. She had been a little nervous about having a new babysitter the previous night.

Me: "So, how did it go with the new sitter last night?"

Dear Daughter:"Oh, it was great mom. She was no trouble at all."

7:50 am

Dear 6 yo son sits up to eat breakfast: "What? I have to eat pancakes? This is the worst day of my life!" A few seconds later... "Mom, I need a strip of carpet."

Me: "Huh?"

Dear Son shows me his science book he checked out at the library and it indeed says "strip of carpet" for an experiment in friction and velocity.

Mutter to myself : "I guess I need to put crawl around in attic and find the extra pieces of carpet on my list."

8:00 am

Dear Daughter comes down dressed for school: red and black plaid dress, purple cheetah coat with belt, brown and white tights, pink glitter ballet flats and hot pink suede pageboy hat.

8:10 am

Husband: "Well, we're off. Have a great day honey."

Me: "Huh?"

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

2008-02-27T08:42:00.000-08:00

Of Mice and Men

2008-02-26T13:59:00.000-08:00

Last winter, my mom was staying a week with us. She was helping out one of numerous times during The Medical Marathon of Margerie. Which maybe just happens to rhyme with surgery. We are returning home from some appointment when we decide to stop by this nursery (hey, another rhyme) along the freeway.

It is one of those funky places, with a 20-foot iron T-Rex sculpture out in front. We decide we just have to check out this place. We were amazed at the eclectic selection. They had statues of frogs inside pots, which were on top of benches, next to fruit trees. I found a miniature cast-iron stove with little frying pans for $11. We must have spent an hour looking around when we discovered a cute silver tabby cat, curled up in a sunny spot on a garden chair. Being cat freaks, we inquired. Gal working there tells us he came to them as a kitten. He was born feral in the wood pallets at the farm supply next door. One day the coyotes got his entire family. He migrated over to the nursery and the nursery owners fed and adopted him. He was reportedly a very mellow fellow and an excellent mouser.

Sometime later, Mom and I finally make it to the outdoor register. By that time we notice a white male rooster has joined the tabby cat on the chair. We remark how unusual it was for the two of them to get along so well. Gal says "Oh, that's because he raised him." Say what? The nursery owners had, a couple of years prior, brought a flock (or whatever you call it) of chickens to live at the nursery. One sad day, they came to work to find some coyotes had devoured all the flock but one little chick. After the tragedy, the chick started following the cat around. The cat probably felt bad for him, as his family had met the same fate. The chick grew into a rooster and the cat and the rooster remained friends.

The owner gal then told us about how one day she was moving a bag of potting soil, when a baby mouse ran out from behind it. She hears "Bawk, bawk, bagulpp!" And turns around just in time to see the rooster swallow up the mouse. "Best damn rooster I ever had" were her concluding remarks.

Now I am pretty sure this is a unique relationship between a male cat and a rooster. But the two of them were bound to screw up something! And I do get a chuckle about this story every time I look at that little cast-iron stove.

The Crappy Twilight Zone

2008-02-26T08:52:00.000-08:00

I am really on a roll. Mostly because the person I am blabbing these ramblings to is not nodding off, or walking away or losing interest. That I can tell anyway.

I know most of us have had a surreal experience or two. I worked in a dental office for 10 years and we had our fair share of interesting times. But one sticks out.....can't believe it still.........

I should have known better when one day both offices happen to all take lunch at the same time. Everyone left the office except me. We had an office shaped like a giant U and the sides were mirror images of each other. My partner and I worked with 8 employees or so on one side, our landlord and his partner and his 8 employees worked on the other. I was basking in the glow of silence. No phones, no people, not even a sterilizer running. How much paperwork was I gonna get done?

Start paperwork while eating. Hear small rattling. Hear more rattling. What was that? Use my sonar to figure out it is coming from the bathroom. Open bathroom door and see the lid on the toilet rattling. OK, I don't know much about plumbing. Sure, I have stopped up a few toilets and jammed up a few disposals. But a toilet rattling all by itself is baffling. Lift up lid just in time to see the brown lava rising. Smelly lava oozes onto the floor and keeps oozing. CRAP!! (literally) The bathroom is about an inch higher than the rest of the office, which conveniently is carpeted. I throw open the cabinet with the surgical towels and smocks. Build a dam with the towels and smocks. Don't think they are sterile anymore. Trying to think of who to call?? No time as I hear the same noise over on Peter's side. Same story his toilet. Build new dam. Now I hear sputtering, splattering ALL OVER. Look- every single "operatory" (where each dental chair is) has a little sink, each lab (where you sterilize stuff) has a big sink. Each drain on combined 10 sinks is splattering crap water all over the place. I grab the instrument trays (look like cafeteria trays) and shove them in the sinks. Just about to catch my breath when I see the dams giving. Now, we do have mops and buckets. But of course they are across the courtyard in our other office suite. I run over and get them. On my way back I see Peter, who is not working today. He is dropping off some trash in the dumpster in the back of the parking lot. I yell as I run across the courtyard, in a dress, in heels, with a mop waving in one hand and a bucket in the other "Peter, emergency!! You have to come help now!!" In that split second, I can read his mind. That Marge has really lost her mind! And she seemed so normal!

He came over, the rest of the staff got back from lunch and we called ServiceMaster. Cancelled the rest of the days' patients. Turns out the city was working down the street and accidentally blocked the sewer line and it backed up into our office.

Now I want everyone to know this is probably the most heroic thing I have ever done. And no one really appreciated it at the time!!! Awww, the rantings of an unsung hero. Better luck next time Marge.

The Package, the Gate and the Mercedes

2008-02-25T16:43:00.000-08:00

OK, I have been thinking about how many "incidents" I have had in recent years. Well, the breast cancer takes the cake- lots of damage control and repairs there. I have also had run-ins with vacuum cleaners, loose dogs, washing machines, laptops, king snakes and assorted cooking disasters. Probably there are some more in my excuse for a brain, but they got swept into some dark corner.

But I can not deny that last week I really pulled a good one. As in lots of $$$$ and damage control. Simple as we received a box at the end of our driveway that contained the frame for a futon we ordered from Target. A friend was watching the kids for awhile (another no school weekday) and I was bringing home the groceries. See the box as I drive in. Brilliant idea of getting the box myself, since hubby rode his motorcycle to work. Complications: gate and steep, long driveway up to the house. Now I know most people think it is pretentious to have a gated/fenced property. We are really saving the neighborhood from our wild animals: the three dogs and the three kids.

Anyway, back to my brilliant idea. Park inside the gate on the steep hill, put on parking brake. Load box, heavy, but fits in the tail of the "crossover" Mercedes. Supposedly a cross between an SUV and a wagon- you decide. Hatch can't close, but I am just driving up the hill and figure that can't be a problem. Get back in the car, release the parking brake and gun it. You can see right now where this is going can't you??? No, I did not fly up the hill and burn rubber. Instead I skid back and slam into the closed gate. I try again and in the middle of gunning it, I realize I am in neutral. Now, I don't think I have ever put a car in neutral in my life. Why I inadvertently develop this skill at this exact moment is just... Murphy's Law or something.

So instead of being calm and rational, I throw it into drive and there is some friction in the back- but who has time to notice? Get up the house. Think about being in complete denial- but there are groceries that have to be unloaded. Look at the back of the car- just some carpet scraped up on the inside of the tail. Interesting. Then I see 4 of the cast metal spires from the top of the gate. Even more interesting as now they are in my car and no longer attached to the gate. How I am going to explain this to my husband? Well that is going to be priceless.

Long story short: he was completely understanding (I always tell him to know me is to love me), it will cost $700 to repair the gate, he glued the spires back on with Liquid Nails and we are blowing off repairing the car for now. So for the next 2 weeks (ordering parts for the gate) I get to realize what an idiot I am every time I have to get out and open/close the damn gate.

OK I think I am good on incidents for awhile.

Ballet, Girls and Balls

2008-02-24T08:20:00.000-08:00

My 4 year old daughter started ballet a few months ago. I am a reformed tomboy, so the art is out of my scope of knowledge. She tells me what she needs (shoes, wraps, leg warmers, etc.) and I figure out how to get the required items. She has an impressive attention span for her age. I watch her class and she is dialed in to the teacher's every command. Why I can't even get her to clean up her room for 5 minutes is beyond me. She can execute complicated ballet moves in a studio filled with kinda-not-paying-attention-little-ballerinas.

The other day she ran in and said "Come look mom! Wilbur (the cat) is doing a tendu!" I asked the child what in the world is a tendu was. She showed me- it is when you have your toe pointed and leg straight. I rush in to see the ballet performing cat and there he is on the carpet, licking his balls.

Now, this is a funny moment for sure. And heck, his leg was straight and he was pointing his toes. I have been designing tee shirts for precocious little girls. What a funny cartoon I could draw of this..... But I concluded I would better have a chance of selling a shirt with a cat licking his balls with a ballet reference to a guy, than the same to a little ballerina or her mother.

Such is life for me........................... :)

One big step for woman, one small step for womankind

2008-02-22T14:25:00.000-08:00

OK, I am doing a blog. Why? My friend Hayley told me to that is why! People are going to read this? I am still grasping the very concept. I have participated in online discussion boards for several years now. This seemingly one-sided conversation is outside my comfort zone. But I figure it is cheap therapy and maybe a way to let my hair down. That's right- I can't let my hair down, because it has been Kramertized by chemotherapy. More on that later.

Today I almost had to do yoga. It is raining. I usually take the two dogs for an hour hike every day. Built-in upper body workout, as the two dogs weigh close to 200 pounds, and so do I by the way. Need to be more of a "master" as Cesar Milan would say. But I would miss the hour of semi-restraining the two beasts. So we lumber around the neighborhood, not perfect, but perfectly happy in our own way. Anyway, I almost had to break out the yoga mat when the sun broke through after lunch. I may even make it all winter without having to do the dirty deed that is yoga, that everyone seems to like except me.

Tonight my oldest child is in his school talent show. I have seen the auditions and the dress rehearsal and I can honestly say that elementary kids should not be holding talent shows. They just aren't very talented! Boo hiss, bad mommy. I am I am! I find it hard to not suppress a smirk when the group of boys play "We will, we will rock you!" with a few beeps and honks out of tune. I am not even going to mention the girl who spent more time picking up her batons than not. I guess I am sensitive to my own child's "comedy act". The kids were laughing. I guess I need to lighten up.

OK enough bitching! I feel better already. Now I am off to contemplate what "my favorite salad" is so I can make it for the pot luck tonight......................