Expressing Yourself, Not Always Easy #AtoZChallenge

My skis right where I wanted them...
i.e. not on me.

Last month my husband tried to kill me. I'm not sure why, but probably because I'm a huge pain in the ass.

I am not athletic. Sporty things do not come naturally to me. He, on the other hand, slapped on his skis and away he went. Oh sure, he'd had a lesson... once... when he was 14... thirty years ago now. No matter, swish swish swish and off he goes.

Me? I had to be tricked down the hill by my poor, underpaid ski instructor who was forced to ski backwards down the hill. He had to coax me along clinging for dear life to the ski poles he held out in front of him for me to grasp.

Anytime he tried to make me go on my own, I promptly lost control and threw myself to the ground.

Pathetic, I know. The moments I wasn't terrified, I was absolutely humiliated.

Good times.

When we finally got to the bottom we had to ride the ski lift back up the hill. Only slightly above my fear of stripping slippery sticks to my feet and sliding down a hill to my death is my fear of heights. I whimpered all of the way to the top of the hill and then promptly fell off the ski lift in a heap. They had to stop the lift so I could crawl away in shame.

When my poor instructor made it to the top he slapped on a happy face and said "ready to go again?" I was nice, and thanked him profusely for his time, but told him that there was absolutely no way I was ever doing that again, thank you very much.

My husband tells me I don't communicate well when I don't want to do something. Personally I thought refusing to put my skis on and bursting into tears when the instructor showed up was pretty telling, but men hate subtle.

So, one of my goals this year is to express myself better, even if it's not always easy.

U is for Utter Happiness #AtoZChallenge

I am so blessed to have such a great guy. He always makes me laugh and picks me up when I'm sad or upset (or fall on my keester in the shower.... OMG you should see the bruise!). Always supportive, always loving and always there for me.

And I have a wonderful daughter who is beautiful and smart and healthy. She can be a handful, but she makes me smile and takes care of me too - like providing me with a blanket and stuffed animals when I fall on said keester...

This is what utter happiness looks like to me :)

B is for Blessed - #AtoZChallenge #OolaLife

It's easy to dwell on, or complain about, life's little inconveniences and frustrations, but I really am very blessed and do my best to focus on that. Party because I believe one manifests what they focus on...

If you focus on all of the negative around you - and there's a lot of it out there - that's what you'll draw to you.

So, here are just a few of the things I am blessed to have in my life...

Jeep Rides

And pretty skies

My little pot

and a hubby who's HOT ;) 

What are you blessed with?

G is for Grandmother #AtoZChallenge

Some of my earliest memories are of times with my Grandmother. She taught me my numbers by teaching me to play card games. I'd play solitaire and she'd feed me buttered crackers, or sliced ring bologna with mustard on it, or Lipton Cup of Soup.

Sometimes I would watch Sesame Street and they'd flash a word on the screen. I couldn't read yet so I'd start yelling "Grandma, Grandma, come here quick!!" and she'd come running in in a panic to find me frantically pointing at the tv screen. "What does that say?!" LOL It's a wonder she didn't throttle me.

It has been a very long time since those days, but whenever I think of her, I think of those times. And other times playing card games around her kitchen table. I am certain my love of games comes from those early games with Grandma.

I miss those days, and I miss my Grandma too.

August 2007 - Grandma, Dad, Aunt Pat, Me and Angie - 4 Generations!

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Today's photo prompt is new, so I'll use this prompt to show off my new leg tattoo. I got a rose because my husband has a rose tattoo on his arm. Although they don't really look alike, it makes me think of him. I got it on and for my birthday last week. I'm currently in the OMG it's ITCHY phase :)

Lucky - #AtoZChallenge

A little over eleven years ago, I met a boy.

I miss those overalls... 

Who, a few years later, asked me to be his wife.

I was SOOOOO glad it wasn't a bracelet in that box... 

I, of course, said yes.

With long hair, people said Lenny looked like Captain Jack Sparrow :)

A few years later our daughter was born.

Babies are so cute... especially when they're sleeping.

Our life together hasn't always been a Fairy Tale, but not a day goes by that I don't realize just how Lucky I am for what I have found with my very own Prince Charming.

Today's photo challenge is "something you found". Today's letter is L. 

How Lucky I am to have Lenny, the Love of my Life. The very best thing I have ever found.

My Love

Just... everywhere! - #AtoZChallenge #PhotoadayApril

You may recall The Horseradish Incident of 2012... well I suppose this is something of a continuation of that story (much to my husband's joy, I am sure).

To bring any new readers up to date, we have established that horseradish mixed with steak sauce and slathered on tri tip steak is super yummy. Related, my husband sometimes suffers at the dinner table (and not always because of my cooking).

So there I was, innocently eating my horseradish and steak sauce slathered steak when suddenly something wet hits my arm. I looked down with a "what the..." then back up at Lenny.

It seems I failed to screw the top back onto the steak sauce bottle.

And Lenny shook it...

HARD

And steak sauce went just... everywhere! All over his face (which was dripping with it), his shirt, the floor, the table cloth, my arm, my shirt, the dog... but not the kid, she was happy to report that she wasn't hit.

So, again, I did what any loving wife would do, I laughed my ass off. Related: I need to keep my camera by my side at all times.

I found the top of the bottle clear across the kitchen and am now doing laundry. I swear, the most absurd things happen around me... and I love every one of them.

Well, most of them at least.

Updated: Google apparently reads my blog...

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Today's photo challenge is "where you ate breakfast," which just so happens to be where I ate dinner. This picture is before the steak sauce incident

See that jacket? That was also covered in steak sauce... 

Darling Husband & Dad - #AtoZChallenge #PhotoadayApril

This post is dedicated to my darling husband, who makes me very happy. I am so very proud of him and so grateful almost every day that I share my life with him! He's my best friend, my co-singer of silly songs, the other parent held hostage by Monster Baby best daddy ever and just as silly as I am. We are a perfect match :)

Someone who makes me VERY happy :)

Also starting with a D, and someone who makes me happy, is my own Dear Ol' Dad, otherwise known as Grandpa, the crazy guy with the riding mower next door (who has 50 square feet of grass) and one of The 'Rents. I love you Daddy!

This would make an awesome Timeline Cover Photo on Facebook, no? :)

Next up: E and "tiny"

I have become a 1950's man...

Lenny was laid off in late June. For six glorious months I had a House Husband. He cooked, he did the shopping, he didn't do all of the housework, but he certainly helped. I should point out that Lenny is Italian, and a very good cook. He also knows how to "balance" meals, something I am not good at.

Money was tight, but life was good.

Then he went and got a job...

The first full day he worked, he came home after six. I met him at the door, "I don't think this is going to work out."

"What? Why? What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure I appreciate this selfish desire of yours to work outside of the home. I had to cook my own dinner!" Obviously I was upset. I mean, have you tried my cooking?

And what did he do? He burst out laughing. The nerve. So, I fed him dinner.

That shut him up. Ha!

It's been about two and half months now. We're limping along. The bills are getting paid, but I've had to suffer my own cooking on far too many evenings. Some nights Lenny will call me to tell me he's on his way home from work and I announce "good, I just started dinner. I'm experimenting!"

[Silence]

"Aren't you excited?"

"Do you want me to pick up something to eat on my way home?"

I remind you, this is his fault. I was quite happy having a House Husband, but noooo he wanted to have a job.

He still makes my lunch for me, complete with snacks to eat for breakfast at work and throughout the day, but when I come home I like to have a nice meal waiting for me. Who doesn't?

Then last week, I called out to the garage where he was working on his bike after getting home. "Um hun, where's my romantic Valentine's Day dinner?" I asked.

"You know, I was talking to one of the guys at work and he suggested that maybe I already do too much for you... and if I do things for you all of the time it's not as special," he offered.

The nerve. "Oh really? Haven't I told you not to talk to your 'friends' about these things? That guy probably doesn't have a happy relationship. In fact, I bet he's destined to die unhappy and alone. Besides, it's always special."

Lenny appeared to agree, but we ended up eating leftovers for dinner.

I'm keeping an eye on him.

So, my goal in life is now to make enough money that my husband doesn't have to work outside of the home. I'm not sure I like this new crowd he's around...

Oh, and he's incredibly handsome too. It's best to keep him home all to myself :)

Yes, I am incredibly blessed :)

The Horseradish Incident of 2012

This is the tale of three bottles of horseradish.

Bottle #1 had been living in the refrigerator for a few months, half full. At some point the top came off of it and much of the horseradish's bite had faded by the time it was replaced. Past its "best by" date, but hey... it's horseradish, it found happiness in first my belly and then my husband's mixed with steak sauce and sopped up with delicious tri-tip steak. I added so much horseradish to my steak sauce that it would have easily counted as a vegetable serving.

Wait... is horseradish a vegetable?

Oh well, no matter...

Within a short period of time, Bottle #1 was empty and we moved on to Bottle #2, which was also half full. The difference was immediately noticeable and the ratio of horseradish to steak sauce was immediately modified. However this bottle was also past its "best by" date and we still added liberal amounts of horseradish to our steak sauce.

No, I have no idea how/why we ended up with two half full bottles of horseradish in the fridge...

Before long we were out of horseradish, so my husband purchased two more bottles of Beaver Brand Extra Hot Horseradish - which, by the way, is very yummy...

Note: My husband refused to pose with the bottle.

So once again it was steak night. Lenny spooned out a liberal helping of horseradish and mixed it with some steak sauce, coated a piece of steak with the mixture and popped it in his mouth.

Immediately his chair shot back about a foot as he gripped the table and croaked "Oh My God!"

I did what anyone would do... I laughed.

"Not funny!" he choked out, bolting to the sink with tears in his eyes.

I thought he'd run to the sink to spit the steak out, but no he later explained after gulping down a full glass of water, he thought he was going to have a NOSE BLEED from the strength of the horseradish. He told me his upper lip hurt, from the inside where it attached to his nose.

I was, of course, still chuckling and eating my horseradish in moderation for the rest of the meal. He told me I wasn't nice to laugh, but I retorted... and these are words to live by my friends...

If you're going to laugh about it later, you may as well laugh about it now.

Weighing In

One of the (many!!) differences I have noticed between men and women is weighing ourselves.

For example: I only weight myself first thing in the morning, completely nude, after going to the bathroom, with dry hair - sometimes I will even take my watch off, you know, just in case it adds a little bit of weight.

On the other hand, my husband will weigh himself at night, fully dressed, wearing work boots, after dinner... then the next morning prior to taking a shower he'll jump on the scale and look astonished at his miraculous weight loss from the night before... which he promptly writes off saying "well, I did just poop" and then merrily goes about his day.

Me, I'm still agonizing that he weighted less than me the prior night... *sigh*

My goal weight: 2 pounds less than him, whatever that may be.

It's a good thing I love him so much :)

Photography Challenge Day 14: Eyes

It's funny, since Angie was born various people have told Lenny and I that she looks just like us, yet Lenny and I don't look much alike. For this photo challenge I thought it might be fun to compare our eyes. So, whose eyes does Angie have? :)

Next up in the Photography Challenge: Silhouette

Film Noir

I'm doing another photo challenge, and this week's theme is Film Noir. What's that? ""Film Noir" is a genre of film between 1940 and 1960, originating in the United States, employing heavy shadows and patterns of darkness, in which the protagonist dies, meets defeat, or achieves meaningless victory in the end."

Not sure if these fit the bill, but it was fun. I have the best husband ever - it was still 104 degrees outside and he put on a dress shirt, dress pants, an overcoat and a fedora for me.

Today was a good day

Nomnom enjoyed her meals.

Angie helped make dinner.

Lenny made fried cauliflower, broccoli and shrimp.

Can't you just feel the love? I can :)

Photography Challenge Day 9: Someone you love

Since I take so many pictures, especially of Angie, this is a pretty easy challenge for me. I mean, I have literally thousands of pictures of her. People compliment me on my photos, but really when you take as many as I do, you're bound to get some great shots now and then. Just go look at some of my earlier pictorial posts of her.

If I had to pay to process film I'd be living under a bridge at this point. Thank God for digital cameras.

So, I figured that I'd take some pictures of my darling husband instead. However, although they're nice, they're not great examples of photography.

Since this is a photography challenge, I'll post a few recent shots that I really like.

I need to Photoshop this into a Forest scene. She looks like a Fairy.

This is now known as "the eating position" for our newest family member. Nom nom nom.

Look at that smile. OMG she's so beautiful.

Not the posed picture I took. My husband has a great smile too. I love this picture of him.

Really, I could go on and on with this particular photo challenge, but four photos is enough. Next up: A childhood memory.

I'm Famous Now!

Earlier this week my boss asked me to copy three change orders for him. I gave the originals and the copies back to him. He calls me three minutes later...

"I think there was a mistake, I don't have a copy of all of these change orders"

"Do you have six pieces of paper?" I asked.

"Yes."

"..."

"Can you go look on the copy machine?"

"Sure..."

Later he comes back and tells me he was mistaken, he had them all. I refrain from making any comment.

That night I relay the story to my husband who says "Behind every good man is a woman rolling her eyes."

So I Tweeted it... LOL and so far that tweet has been mentioned in three blogs! How funny is that? Even funnier that they didn't even know where it originated from.

First there was @BuildingMoxie's Blog: Behind Every Great Man Stands a Woman Rolling Her Eyes . . . Yes, Thanks @MrsPickle_ for One Great Title

Then I finally made it onto @RubySpikes weekly Top 10 post (it took a little lobbying): This Week in Tweets: Three Times as Nice

And then today I stumble over @ExtremelyAvg's blog: Tweeting is Easy

I love Twitter :)

In which I blog about poop...

If you are freaked out or somehow offended by poop, you should probably not read this post. I polled my Twitter followers on just how interesting a blog post on poop would be and the sentiment was pretty unanimous that I should go for it.

Let's hope it's not a shitty idea.

It's sort of interesting how many stories I could tell that have to do with poop. Like the story my father likes to tell about when I was a very small child in diapers, still in a crib. He came in one day to find me no longer napping, but happily painting myself, my crib and the walls with poop. He quickly put a stop to that by plucking me out of my crib by my armpits (presumably one of the only clean spots at that point) and plunking me down in the tub to be scrubbed by my mother while he cleaned my room.

To this day I have no artistic ability. I am certain it stems from this incident. I might have been a great artist, but alas my career was cut short by shortsighted people. What a waste.

Wednesday I come home and Lenny's super excited. He meets me at the back door...

"Angie pooped on the potty!"

"Great," I respond, it's been a long road and while she's got peeing on the potty down, she still sneaks off to her closet to poop most day. Yes, her closet. I have no idea why.

"And Oh My God... it was HUGE! It was the length and width of her arm!" he continues.

"Well... gosh... wow..." Really, not quite sure how to respond to that one. My husband is obviously impressed, going on and on. 

"I'm surprised you didn't take a picture," I say, jokingly.

"I thought about it!" he exudes. 

Oh my.

"I even called your Dad and told him about it."

Yes, he was that excited.

Angie runs in about that time and I give her a big hug.

"I hear you went poop on the potty," I praised.

"Yes! And it was as big as my arm!" she gushes, holding up her arm proudly. 

Gee, I'm sorry I missed it...

OK, sure, kid poop is inoffensive. It's almost cute, if still rather stinky. But adult poop really has no appeal, unless it leads to fun sayings...

About a year ago I heard a story about a guy (presumably) who pooped in a towel in the office gym, wrapped it up and put it in the laundry basket at work.

Yes, this really happened.

Totally disturbing. Despite my predictions, no further incidents have occurred. Almost a let down, no? 

But no! Out of it came the best office sayings E.V.E.R.!

"Just wrapping it in a towel and throwing it out there"

"Oh go shit it a towel, will ya?!"

"Time to shit.. er... throw in the towel!"

"It could have been worse, someone could have shit in a towel"

And my favorite: "Well sure, I was pissed, but it's not like I was going to go shit in a towel."

Do you have a good one liner to add? Post it in the comments.

If you work with me, this totally did not happen where we work...

An Ode to Angelina Jean

First off, I'd like to thank Christine and Nadia for hosting this May Mom Blog Hop. Thirty-one of us are part of the hop, one posting on each day in May, in celebration of motherhood. I am honored to be included!

It has only just begun, and I've already found so many great new blogs and Tweeters. If you've missed any of the blog hop so far, be sure to check out:
Moments of Motherhood by Nadia
Respect, Appreciation and Love by Christine
May Mom Blog by Crystal, and
Motherhood Includes by Dana

Some of these posts have extolled the virtues of motherhood; how great, fulfilling and totally awesome it can be. I don't disagree, there are certainly moments that being a mother is very rewarding.

There are also plenty of times when it is exhausting, frustrating and just plain hard. I have had days where I tearfully tell my husband that if I were failing at anything else as badly as I'm failing at motherhood, I'd have given up by now.

I think the best thing I have discovered on Twitter is that I am not alone in this. Some days I comfort other mothers at their wit's end. Others, I vent my feelings to my virtual friends or cry on their distant shoulders. And their blogs? Fantastic. Helpful. Informative. FUNNY. Poignant. Real. If you're a parent, or even just a sympathetic bystander, you should definitely follow along this month.

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Angelina, which means Angel, had a name picked out almost three years before she was born. I had dreams about her. I had always known she was coming, someday. I couldn't figure out why she had made me wait so long, until right before she was born.

As you may know, Angie saved my life and my sanity when she was born. After more than two years of trying, my husband and I finally conceived a child - only to lose it seven weeks later. It was a tubal pregnancy. I woke up from what was supposed to be a D&C to find out that one of my tubes had had to be removed. I spent weeks crying to Lenny that I was broken.

Then, six weeks after I lost the first baby, I was pregnant again! For a long time I still cried for "Peanut," but Angie was due on 7/7/07 which I prayed would bring us luck.

On June 5th, four weeks before she was due, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I've written several blogs about my experience, which was just about as fantastic as it could have been, if you're interested. That day my surgeon told me to expect to have Angie that week. My OB/GYN argued, successfully, that we could wait until Angie was at 38 weeks.

I was in labor for 56 hours. I have already informed my boss and my husband that I will never work on June 23rd again. Angie was almost named Angelina Staydol after the drug that kept me relatively pain free for all those hours. They couldn't do a C-Section, because I was to start chemo two weeks later.

Yet, I was still able to make bad jokes... I told my doctor. "Doc, if I don't have this baby soon, I'm going to have a Cancer." She groaned, "Wendy, only you could make that joke." (Angie was supposed to be a Gemini, but since she delayed so long she is a Cancer. Bad joke, I know, but women with cancer in labor for 56 hours have special dispensation.)

Then finally, Angie was born. Healthy, whole and perfect. I was so thankful. I was 35 when she was conceived, 36 when she was born. I had refused genetic testing. I had cancer for crying out loud. I knew that I was blessed.

Then, after she was born, instead of my very first thought in the morning being "I have cancer" it became "I have a little girl!". Instead of focusing on the horror of breast cancer at 36, chemotherapy and suggestions that I should have a double mastectomy, I had something much better to focus on - Angie. She saved my sanity.

Later I would realize that her timing had been perfect. Had I given birth in April with Peanut, I may not have found the cancer until it was too late. As it was, the tumor had gone from the size of a marble to the size of a golf ball in only three weeks. She saved my life.

Not to mention that since I was on maternity leave I could better manage my crazy cancer patient schedule and not have to deal with work too.

It's been almost four years now. I remain cancer free after my treatments. Angie is no longer a baby, but now a "big girl" with "big girl panties" to prove it.

My husband often accuses me of being too lenient with her. Maybe I am, but I hate incessant whining love her so much. Nothing makes me happier than to see her happy. That, or I use her as a cover so I can add to my stuffed animal collection. Although I would gladly give my life for this child, her first act was to save mine.

I have always believed that she chose me, I didn't choose her. I remind us both of that when I feel like I'm failing at being a good mom.

Remember, you chose me.

"Remember," I tell her, "you chose me."

Think about that for a moment. What if we do choose our parents before we're born. Why did you choose your mother, what lessons did she teach you? What lessons did you teach her? Why did your children choose you? You may think that you're doing all the teaching, but pause for a moment to appreciate all that they're teaching you.

What did Angie teach me? That sometimes timing is everything. That often we have to wait for things we desperately want. That everything happens in its own time. That love really is the answer.

Thank you sweetheart.

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Next up, is a blog by Kimberly at All Work & No Play Makes Mommy Go Something Something. Be sure to check her blog out tomorrow!

Thank you for stopping by :)

T is for Tattoo

I've been planning this tattoo for 2 or more years now. It's actually a modern tradition for breast cancer survivors to get a tattoo of some sort. I settled on an ankle bracelet with four charms. I'm very pleased with how it turned out. My goal was to have it appear to be an actual ankle bracelet from afar, I think Chris from Riddle of Steel in Peoria did a great job!

There's a Crown for Angie, my Little Princess, and the Breast Cancer ribbon at the back.

There's a Harp for my BFF Stephanie.

And a Heart for my Wonderful Husband Lenny.

This is the next tattoo I'd like to get, but I'm not sure where to put it yet.

L is for Love

Love is... having a partner who lets you know that he loves you every single day.

Lenny & I - picture taken by Angie

Love is... having a daughter who tells you she missed you when you pick her up from school and who loves to give you hugs and kisses. 

Love is... being comfortable with who you are.

Love is... a friendship that endures for years, even when you're far apart.

Love is... having an aunt that has always doubled for me, and now for Angie, as a Fairy Godmother.

 

Love is... having my parents living next door and helping us raise Angie.

Lenny, me, Grandma, Dad, Angie, Joann & Matt - Sept 2007

Love is... for the good memories I have of my mother, and the heartbreak I feel when I think of her now.

Mom & I circa 1995

Love is... Mom and Dennis, Melissa, Christopher, Madison and Hailey, even though they're far away in Massachusetts, they are still close in our hearts.  

Love is... having good friends who come out to spend Saturdays with us.

I was going to write tonight about Luck. I thought I'd changed my mind, but realize now oh how lucky I am to be loved.