Least Annoying Family

I recently had a light-hearted e-mail exchange with a friend of mine who shall not be named about taking vacations with other families.  She mentioned that she has a strict rule about not vacationing with families whose children are younger than hers.   I must say, that is a rule backed up by sound logic.  

I go on vacation with my sister's family twice a year.  In the winter we rent a house in the snow and in the summer we rent a lake house together.  It works out quite well since I am comfortable getting mad at my husband in front of them, we both put our kids to bed pretty early, my brother-in-law used to be a bartender and makes a mean margarita and our kids are all around the same age and get along famously.  The house at the lake we rent each year is massive.  

This past summer while we were at the lake, my sister mentioned that we could easily accommodate another family.  We started listing all our friends and coming up with reasons that we could never go on vacation with them.    We finally settled on my friend V and her family.  Here was our reasoning:

1.  They only bring one other child into the mix and he's a very well behaved, sweet boy.  

2.  Gloppy is the only boy cousin and he could use another little boy to play with, and V's son is the right age.

3.  V's husband J is hilarious and really fun at parties.

4.  J is also a total kid at heart and will keep the kids entertained for hours making up silly games and goofing around.  We call him the fifth Wiggle.

5.  V is a small woman and she won't eat much.  

6.  J is a master behind the grill.

7.  V is not one to gossip or say mean things behind someone's back, which may cut down on trash talking for me and my sister.  But the good thing is she won't go back and tell everyone how crazy my family really is.

So we decided that we might invite V and J and their darling son with us to the lake next year.  It's still under discussion, but for now they hold the title of "Least Annoying Family."  

Congratulations V & J!!  No offense to any of my other friends who might be reading this.  I love you all, but maybe not enough to go on vacation with you.  Sorry.

Guest Post #3a: Papa's Tears

Apparently when I am on vacation I cannot count.   The post below should have been titled "Guest Post #2."  So rather than correct my error, I will just call this one "Guest Post 3a" because it's my blog and I make the rules.  OK.

Today's guest blogger is my friend MMM.  Like V, we've known each other since high school.  Shortly after we graduated from college, MMM trained for and ran a marathon.  I was so impressed and inspired by her that I decided to give it a try.  One evening after a training run, MMM, myself and bunch of other runners decided to get some beers... because nothing rehydrates a runner like beer.  There was a guy there named Steve that was paying quite a bit of attention to my friend MMM.   As we were leaving I said, "that guys wants to date you."  She was completely oblivious and said something like, "no, I think he's just a really nice guy."  MMM and Steve are now married with two of the most adorable little children on the planet.  Never doubt MGT.

MMM doesn't have her own blog, but just like V, she should.  I was thrilled she agreed to write a guest post for me.  So enough intro, here she is:

My dad never cries. Well, first of all I call him “Papa” (yes, still at 37) and let me clarify: I’ve seen him cry maybe 5 times in my entire life. Once when his mother died, once when my mother’s mother died, when a dear friend of the family died, a quick tear when he dropped me off at college, and when my hubbie and I announced I was pregnant. Until I began writing today, I had completely forgotten that there was a sixth time that I witnessed the awkward, contorted-faced controlled whimper called “crying” that he unwillingly released. I was lounging on a hospital bed with a huge proud smile on my face, waiting to be wheeled in to have bone marrow extracted.

This was one of the most rewarding days of my life and when I saw the worry on my parents’ faces, I quickly responded with “how could I not do this?” It was a worry that I could never understand completely because I was single, childless and only 27. At the time my only worries were which direction to begin my morning runs, to have a post-run bagel or smoothie and whether I should eat at Pasta Pomodoro or Barney’s.

I was given the opportunity to donate bone marrow to an unrelated 10 year old Brazilian girl in 1997. I say opportunity because it ended up opening my mind and so many doors for me. It was a small price to pay for the things I experienced.

The odds of being selected, screened and passed as a bone marrow donor is 1 in 20,000 (at least that’s what I just found on my quick internet search). Not a common thing and it is not guaranteed because you simply donated blood. So when my husband, boyfriend at the time, was a match for another unrelated girl, we were shocked. What made me fall in love with him even more, was that he took as long as I did to decide to donate. “Yes, of course I’ll do it” was his response. He had a hard outer shell, but had a heart of gold.

His little angel didn’t make it through her first year. Now before I make my next comment let me say that my husband was affected by this. I was just surprised by his first response: “At least she had a little more time.” True, but how about a tear? A scream?” This is a perfect example of the difference between how we parent. He, the optimist, me the realist (ok, the pessimist).

In my experience donating bone marrow is a lot like parenting. You are completely depleted and exhausted; your blood is running around outside of your body; you knew you wanted to do it, but you had no clue about all the feelings you would experience; there are high highs and low lows; your ass and stomach are so bloated because of all the salt you have going through your body (chips vs. IV fluids); and now you have a big chunk of your brain and your entire heart consumed by a little person that shares your DNA.

I know that the girl I donated to survived past the first year. I’m hoping now that she is a healthy 21 year old girl living it up in Brazil. I wonder if she thinks about me, if she thinks about helping others and if she craves nuts like I do. What I’ve learned about this experience since having children, is that I will always have her on my mind and in my heart. In my eyes, we are connected.

Now that I have kids, I understand that I had no clue at the time that I donated what my papa’s tears meant. I’m sure my parents wanted to scream “Are you crazy?! Did you just decide to do this 30 seconds after being asked?!” But now that I have two little humans running around, with my blood in them, testing limits, trying new things, falling, learning and growing, I understand that my papa’s tears contained so much more than I initially thought. The tears were tears of fear, pride, admiration, confusion and joy. If I could feel all these emotions in response to my daughter going down the slide for the first time, couldn’t papa feel all that watching me help someone live?

Guest Post #3: Feeling Alone... Together

Today's guest post is from my friend V.  V and I have been friends since high school (over 20 years!).  My high school boyfriend had a friend named J who was always asking my about my friend V.  "She's so cute."  "What's your friend V doing?"  But she had a different boyfriend.  To make a long story short, J finally got the girl (V) well after high school and they are now married with a darling son.  

We've seen each other through high school, college and everything that has come along since.  As you'll soon see we share a bond that will always keep us close.  She is an amazing person who really should have her own blog.  But for now I'll just steal her fantastic writing for mine.

So I’ve never blogged before.  Did I even use the word as a verb in the right way?  I’m happy to cover Mama Ginger Tree’s watch while she and the entire Candy Cane Forest are away on vacation, but I can’t promise I’ll do her blog (Why does that word puzzle me so? I think I’m just more comfortable with a pen and lined journal...but I digress) justice, but here I am.  MGT is one lady who deserves to be able to cross yet one more thing off of her never-ending To-Do list. And have I mentioned that I can’t possibly ever say no to her?  She’s had my back countless times over the years, from teaching me how to clean a beer-soaked rug to cooking my family some of the best comfort food I’ve ever eaten when my dad was ill.

MGT and I have been friends since high school – I envied her sparkling blue eye shadow, lofty blonde hair and ability to flirt with boys.  I didn’t even talk to boys during freshman year (not much point, as I still happened to look like one myself).  And did I mention that she was a whiz at math and that I absolutely sucked at it?   I’d probably still be trying to graduate if she didn’t tutor me through it.  On the bright side, 80’s clothes are back in style, so I’d be in good shape there.

Of all the things we shared in common, losing a parent as a child is definitely the most impactful.   A loss like this isn’t easy at any age, but I think what we both immediately understood was the way it makes you feel different than the other kids; like you stand out – and not in the “Aren’t I fabulous?” kind of way.  As a kid, I always hated having to explain about my mom.  It was (ok, sometimes is) painful and people, peers especially, were never quite sure what to say.  It was often awkward for me and for them, and I somehow felt like it catapulted me into the land of “different.”  Not sure about others out there, but most pre-teens and teens I knew were all about conforming: Vertical bangs? Check. Leggings? Check. Love of Bon Jovi? Check.  If memory serves, we didn’t even want to walk down the hallways at school without one of our friends by our side (in fact, it was preferable if all ten or twelve of us could move in an amoeba-like fashion throughout the school).

Now that I’m older, I have a different perspective.  The loss of my mom is still hard, but when I grieve, I grieve in a very different way now.  I grieve for my son never knowing his grandma.  I grieve when I see a grown woman and her mother out shopping or having lunch.  I grieve that my dad doesn’t have my mom there beside him when he takes my son to a park or to the library.  Every so often, depending on my mood, the weather and so on, just talking about my mom can reduce me to a puddle of tears.  But on the vast majority of days, I feel amazingly strong and resilient, like I’m living proof that life does go on and that people who experience devastating sadness can come out of it and have lives that are happy and fulfilled beyond measure.

I’ve survived something that no young girl should have to endure.  It wasn’t easy, but MGT made me feel like I wasn’t alone.  It was nice to be “different” together.  Our shared loss got us through the turbulence of adolescence, the ups and downs of the college years, the fear of finding our way after college, the adjustment to married life and, eventually, parenthood.  Our friendship and mutual understanding sustains me to this day.  What a lovely thing not to walk through high school hallways – or life – alone.

The Great Interview Experiment

If you haven't yet heard of Neil Kramer's Great Interview Experiment where have you been?  Under a rock?  The premise is that all bloggers are compelling and deserve to be interviewed.  I couldn't agree more.  If you dig deep enough, everyone has a story to tell.  Bloggers just do the digging for you.  

All you have to do is leave a comment here and you will be assigned to be interviewed by the commenter right before you and you will in turn interview the commenter that follows you.  So go over to Citizen of the Month and sign up.  But read this first.  Then go sign up.  

I was assigned to interview Katie from Overflowing Brain.  To say she has a lot going on in her brain would be an understatement.  I truly enjoyed reading Katie's blog and getting to know her.  Not only is she frank and honest about her health issues, but the more upbeat parts of her life as well.  Just check out her posts about her recent wedding and I guarantee you will find her delightful and funny.  My questions here just scratch the surface of all that she writes about, so I highly recommend adding Overflowing Brain to your feeder of choice. 

So without further ado, here is my interview with Katie.  Enjoy.

Why did you start your blog?

A few years prior to starting my blog I joined an online community that's more focused on health issues (because, did you know, I have some of those? I didn't think so).  After a few years there it became apparent that I had an interest in writing about things other than just doctors appointments and health concerns, but that just wasn't the right forum for it.

So I switched over to blogger and now weave what I find to be funny in with the health stuff.  I love to write and I find myself absolutely hilarious, so it's a great place to deal with both of those things.


What have you learned/gained from blogging?

Hmm, as of last weekend when I changed my template I learned what a huge pain the ass it is to try to deal with HTML code, but that's probably not what you meant.

Honestly, blogging is like free therapy to me.  I get to air out my problems, concerns, and life experiences with other people, some of whom have been there before, others who haven't.  It's been really helpful to me in dealing with big things that I otherwise would've kept bottled inside until I would take them out on my (now) husband.  I was able to share my fears, triumphs, big fat failures and much more.  I'd like to think that I've sharpened my comedy skills too.  My husband would disagree with that.


Is there anything that annoys you about blogging?

One word: trolls.

I will never understand the mindset of someone who reads a blog voluntarily and then signs on as an anonymous reader to leave a snarky comment.  It's inevitably on that one blog post where you need help and support the most and it just makes me crazy.  Which is evident in the fact that I cannot just leave it alone.  I once said I wasn't going to dignify their comments with a response and well, I'm a liar.  I take the bait every single time and blast back.  It annoys me that people find that an acceptable thing to do to someone else or that they get their jollies from it.  I just wish there was a more creative way to say that if you don't like my blog, stop reading it!  It seem so logical to me, and yet, time and time again, the same thing happens.


You have a lot of experience with doctors and now you are married to a med student!  What are the top 3 qualities you think make a great doctor?

What makes you think I have a lot of experience with doctors?  Is it that I have 4 appointments with them in the next week and a half?  Um yea, so I've kept the New Orleans medical community in business for the past 2 years.  I like to support my city, what can I say?

Okay, but seriously, the top 3 qualities:
1) Listening- not just not being quiet, but genuinely listening to a patient's concerns and then addressing them.  So many doctors sit quietly while you talk but then don't actually hear a single syllable you've just said in your exasperation with your health.
2) Honesty- my favorite question to ask a doctor is, if it was you or your child, what would you do?  This is because so much of the time in my health problems, the decisions have been left up to me.  Having a doctor be completely honest with me about what they would do is immeasurably helpful.  But also just honesty about what's going on.  If you suspect something serious, tell me.   I'm going to find out eventually and I am a professional worrier.  Let me do what I do best.
3) Personability- this is decidedly less important than the other 2, but I don't want to go to a doctor who I feel doesn't like me.  If I'm going to talk to you about my brain, or my nether regions, or my boobs, I want to feel like you care, but aren't judging me.  Engage me in conversation and don't roll your eyes or look away.  And if you're working with kids (I don't have any, but I'm pretty sure I was one once), engage them at their level.  Don't try to be their best friend, but make the doctor fun and less totally scary for them.


Looking back, are you glad you decided to have brain surgery?  What was your biggest fear before the surgery?

With very few exceptions, I've never regretted the decision.  It was an incredibly difficult decision, but I found a great surgeon who sat through not one, not two, but three appointments just to answer my questions until I felt completely informed about my options and what the surgery would be like.  I'm having some head difficulties now, but even still, that surgery, at the very least, bought me 8 months of peace from headaches.  And that has been completely amazing.  It's given me a second chance at a lot of things and allowed me to return to the person I was once before head pain began ruling my everyday life.  I'm hoping that this latest jag of headaches is just going to disappear magically.  Yes, I'm totally delusional.

My biggest fear?  Hard to say.  I know that I don't tolerate anesthesia or painkillers very well, so I was (rightly) afraid of the first day post-op, which involved much gagging and dry heaving (pretty!).  But I guess I was also just afraid of what anyone would be afraid of in brain surgery. Pain, infection and most of all, that it wouldn't work.


I love the story of how you met your husband. Would you say it was love at first sight?

Yes and no.  It was more love at first 2 hour conversation.  The first moment I saw him was one of extremely great pain and embarrassment.  Hi, nice to meet you, I'm the girl who didn't move when the giant guy came running at me because somehow I found it more important to guard a fake flag.  Needless to say, it was not one of my finest moments (and yet oddly, not even on the top 10 stupidest things I've done).  But, after several people helped me get off the middle of the football field and I stopped screaming/bawling like a baby and sat down to converse with Slappy, I knew there was something there.  He was charming and funny and exactly the kind of nice guy I'd been waiting to meet.


What was the best part of your recent wedding?

Good question!  My wedding was by far the best day of my life.  It was everything I wanted and more.   I was immeasurably happy the whole time and if I could do it again, I wouldn't change a thing.   I really couldn't stop smiling the entire day.   The photographer asked me to not smile for a few pictures and I only lasted like a frame and a half before I was smiling again.  It was just so wonderful to share my love of my husband with our family and friends.  And how often does your husband split his pants open in the middle of the dance floor?  Not often enough, I say.


Was there any family drama or did everyone behave?

Ha. Haha.  Family drama is pretty much a requirement around here.  For the most part, everyone was on their best behavior, but since you asked... My MIL (who does not like me very much) refused to remove her sunglasses for about half of the pictures from the wedding. Everytime I look at those particular pictures I want to strangle her.

I also (foolishly) gave her the authority to decorate our table signs with ONE string of Mardi Gras beads after several months of her nagging that "it's not a party without Mardi Gras beads."  And much to my surprise (not!) there were extra beads ALL over the cake table.  I sent my mom on a reconnaissance mission to clean the beads off the table.  It's not about the beads.  It's about controlling the crazy.

Oh, and the last dance song was one that my MIL hated.  It was going to be our first dance song before she deemed it "the worst song she'd ever heard."  So it was our last dance song instead.  And I perhaps derived a great deal of pleasure from watching her stomp back to her seat instead of dancing through the last dance. (Victory!)


Did you change your last name? Why or why not?

Not officially yet, but that's only because there was a typo on our marriage license.  Somehow I didn't notice that my first name was misspelled until my mom pointed it out the morning of the wedding.   So we're waiting for the correction to be processed and then I'll get down to business getting it changed over.

I don't have any great attachment to my maiden name.  I have a sister and 4 step-sisters so our last name isn't sticking around.  That, and Slappy is my family now and I want everyone to know it.


What does your husband think of your blog?

Ha.  He vacillates between not giving a crap and being moderately annoyed by my obsession with the internet.   I think he'd be happier if I hadn't joined twitter and stopped being able to sit still for more than 10 minutes without having to see if anyone tweeted anything interesting.  It's bad.  From the start he's been firm about not starting a discussion about the blog unless it's really important.  He wants me to feel like I can post anything I want to without having to check with him first.  He's very supportive as long as I don't spend all our "us" time on the computer.  Which is something I'm working on.


Are there any topics that are off limits on your blog?

Anything that reveals the true identity of my husband.  Because he's applying for his residency this year, he needs his name and face to not be tied to anything that doesn't reflect really well on him.  And not that the blog doesn't, but um, I'm pretty sure that residency programs don't want to hear about his flatulence or tendency to cheat in contests.  Aside from all things Slappy related, there are very few limits.   I won't name the school I work at or any specific details about it because I hope to keep both my job and blog, but that's really it.  I've been using a little more profanity than usual (which is fairly unlike me), but I attribute it entirely to watching both seasons of Dexter in a week and a half and I'm working on it.


Everyone jokes about the lonely life of a doctor's wife, but you seem to be realistic about it and OK with what lies ahead for you guys. Would you say that's true?

To a certain extent yes.  I knew from the day I began dating Slappy that he was going to be a doctor and I made a choice early on that I would stand by him no matter what.  I try to support him in whatever he does and I want him to achieve all of his wildest dreams, regardless of how many years of residency and how many different fellowships they require.  I got a good reality check his first week on his latest rotation when I didn't see him for 3 straight days and it was admittedly a lot more difficult than I'd anticipated.  I think it'll be a struggle, but at the same time, I also require a lot of alone time to maintain my sanity.  I'm not glad he works crazy hours or looking forward to him being gone all the time, but I guess I'm one of those (crazy) people who feels equipped to handle it.  Check back with me in a year, I'm sure I'll be singing a whole new tune when he's on call at the hospital every 3rd night.

You grew up in California and are now a resident of New Orleans.  What was the adjustment like?

It was actually a lot easier than I anticipated.  I had a horrible time acclimating to college life (a whole 2 hours from home) and spent the entire first year wanting to run home, so I was apprehensive about the move.  But after spending a year doing the long-distance relationship thing with Slappy, I was ready to move.  And I have loved it here from day one and have hardly looked back since.  I'd love to get back to California someday to be closer to my family, but I'm also really enjoying the chance to live somewhere totally foreign to me.


What's the best part about living in New Orleans and what is the worst?

The food here is amazing. It's better than anyone describes.  The people are also, for the most part, absolutely lovely.  People ask you how you're doing here in a way that indicates that they actually want to know, they're not just asking to be polite.   My neighbors will engage me in hours of conversation and I feel a great sense of community here.  And did I mention the food?

The worst is probably the bugs and the weather.  We have a small cockroach problem.  Well, actually, small would be the wrong word.  They're huge and they fly.  And we have to get our house sprayed every few months when they overcome the previous spray and start invading our personal space.  There's almost not a single day goes by that I don't encounter a live or dead cockroach somewhere in my house.  Envy me.   And the weather.  It would be an overstatement to say that there are even 2 seasons here.  It's either warm and humid/rainy or cool and humid/rainy.  And I'm from California, so my expectations for separate seasons are low, but I would love to have a break from the lightning every few weeks.


What's the one thing in your life that you are most proud of?

Tough question.  I'm pretty proud of my marriage because we didn't have the easiest time getting to where we are today.  A full year of long-distance relationshipping and our share of complications, but it has been so incredibly worth it.  I also happen to be an excellent mother to my cat.  I'm not especially proud of the fact that she weighs 15 pounds.


Who are your two favorite bloggers?

No way can I narrow it down.  I have a number of friends I've met through my blog and I love reading their blogs because I know them and I feel like I can relate.  On the other hand, I have a list about 20 blogs long that I try to read through regularly not including those real world friends.  I couldn't narrow it down to 2 if you paid me.  Well, maybe I could. Send me a check and I'll try again.


Have you ever posted something and then regretted it?

Until recently my answer would be no.  But then last week my husband suggested I post a contest about stupid things he says and well, in case you're wondering, the post magically disappeared.  It just ended up being a little too weird.   It does happen pretty often that I'll post something and be like, "oh my God, I am a comical genius" only to have like no one think it's funny.   Story of my life.


Has being a teacher made you more or less excited to become a parent someday? Or perhaps just more sure of what kind of parent you want to be?

Teaching has made me much more afraid to ever be the parent of a teenager.  I only deal with them for a few hours a day and I want to kill them, I can't imagine having them live in my house.  No, but really, it has given me great perspective on how parents really shape their kids.  Parent teacher conferences are often the most helpful tool in understanding students because those parents are such a huge part of their kids framework.   I never want to be a parent who makes excuses for my kids, I don't want to enable them to be lazy, but I do want to instill in them a passion for learning and an understanding of the importance of hard work.  I've always wanted to be a mom so I don't think that teaching has increased that desire, but it has surely shed some light on how I want to go about it.


I know you have some opinions about baby names. Have you and Slappy discussed names and do you have a favorite?

We have discussed some names, but he's unwilling to commit to any, except Talula does the Hula from Hawaii.  That one is a lock for our first child, regardless of gender.

Having a gaggle of sisters, I've claimed a few for the future, but none that I'm willing to disclose right now.  And also, we happen to be horribly indecisive, so there's a good chance that our kids will be called Baby girl/boy McSlapperson for the first days.  Or weeks.  Or years.


Does it annoy you that everyone starts asking about babies right after you get married?

Nope.  It annoys me when people won't take my answer of "in a few years" and let. it. go.  I'm not going to have kids because you think I should.  I'm going to have them because my father wants to be a grandparent so much that I feel guilty for not procreating already.  I mean, because I love kids.  Right.  That's it.


If you could travel anywhere in the world where would you go?

I studied abroad for a semester in Athens, Greece and I would LOVE to go back.   I know it's odd to want to go somewhere you've already been, but I had the time of my life there and would love to share that with Slappy.  I'd also really like to see Italy and parts of Africa.


Lastly, Coke or Pepsi?

Either, as long as it's diet.  And has rum in it.

Heather O'Hara From Cupertino, Ca

The day my mom dropped me off at California Lutheran University was one of the scariest days of my life.  I was so very ready for college and all it had to offer, but I was terrified to be on my own.  My mom and sister help me set up my dorm room, find the cafeteria and then they left.  I immediately broke out in hives.  I was scared to death.

Bu then Heather O'Hara from Cupertino asked me to go to dinner.  She was my roommate.  A bright, sunny red-headed girl with a passion for Mustangs.  She was so chipper it was almost freaky.   That first night we sat up getting to know each other.  I shared some popcorn from my electric popcorn maker and she marveled at the fact that I didn't like beer.   CLU is a very small place and 90% of students live on campus for all four years.  We shared a bedroom our entire four years and became inseparable.  

Heather was the life of the party and spontaneous, while being kind hearted and nurturing at the same time.   We rarely argued about typical roommate stuff.  I won the roommate lottery getting paired up with Heather O'Hara from Cupertino, Ca.   We took crazy road trips, pulled all nighters, dated the bad boys, went to Chapel (almost) every Wednesday, went to three Steve Miller concerts together and did all manner of crazy co-ed stuff.  Always together.   I once told her if she were a guy I would marry her.

We became each other's family away from our real families.  Heather O'Hara from Cupertino was the one who took me to the emergency room when I fell into a patch of cactus with a cute boy.  I sat in that same ER with her for three hours while she waited to be diagnosed with mono.   She held my hand and handed me tissues while I cried about whichever boy broke my heart that week.  She always had my back no matter what, and I had hers.  We would stay up late into the night sharing a Sara Lee Banana Cake and spill our deepest, darkest secrets with each other.  I once told someone one of her secrets and she found out.  She accepted my apology and never held a grudge.   She was that awesome.

Me and Heather, circa 1992

After we graduated, we got ourselves an apartment in the big city and real jobs.  That is when things started to change.   Heather O'Hara from Cupertino was miserable.  She was ready to be a grown up, while I was still having a hard time letting go of the college student lifestyle.  While I embraced living in the city, she was clearly not enjoying it.  When she decided to move back to her hometown (which is Cupertino, not too far from SF), I was pissed.  This was not part of our plan.   We grew apart.  We briefly reconnected and she made an effort, but I was not in a great place and I blew her off.    I meant to call.  Days turned into weeks.  Weeks turned into months.  Months turned into years.  

My mom absolutely adored Heather O'Hara from Cupertino and asks me about her often.  I get snappy and mad when she asks me if I've ever heard from her.  I'm not at my mom for asking.  I'm angry at myself.  Because this is just plain wrong and thinking about her makes me want to cry.  We didn't attend each others weddings.  She has never seen my kids or met my husband.  It seriously hurts my heart just to type that.    It's just not right.

I'm sure by now you're asking yourself why I don't just call her already.  I've tried.  I've tried Googling her name in every fashion I can think with no luck.  I'm sure she's married by now and has a new last name.  I've tried out alumni association, but they can't find her either.  I've Googled her brother's name as well as her parent's.  No luck.  I even went to far as to contact the church she used to attend in Cupertino, but they never answered my e-mail.

Which leads me to the whole point of this post.  Maybe, just maybe Heather O'Hara from Cupertino will Google her maiden name and come across my little blog.  Maybe someone who knows how to contact her will come across this.  I know she'd be mortified to have all this personal information about her on the internet.

It's a long shot, but I want so badly to reconnect with her.   So Heather O'Hara from Cupertino, send me an e-mail (mamagingertree@gmail.com).  Please.  I owe you an apology and I want to know what path your life has taken.  I want to sit down with you and relive those life changing years we shared.   I miss you terribly.

Go hug your friends old and new.  Forgive them.   Call them.  Tell them you love them.  Make the effort not to lose touch with the ones that really matter.  The amazing, should be life-long friends like Heather O'Hara from Cupertino, Ca.

Not My Proudest Moment

I ran into a mom at drop-off this morning that I haven't seen in quite a while.  I want to run and hide every time I see her.  You see, when we first moved here lots of people would ask me, "have you met the so-and-so family?"  The so-and-so family lives down the street from us and it seems everyone thought we should be best friends.  You know because they are Indian and have three kids and Mr. Mint is Indian and we have three kids around the same age, and we live on the same street.  

I guess everyone was telling her the same thing because she stopped by my house one afternoon.  I was dressed in sweats with my hair pulled back in a pony-tail.  I was not looking my best.  She tentatively asked, "are you the lady of the house?" when I answered the door.  When I said yes, she introduced herself and said she was out walking and thought she would stop by.  I felt compelled to ask her inside.   My kids were eating lunch.  

OK, they were eating lunch and watching Dora the Explorer at the same time.  

OK, OK, OK, they were eating McDonald's Happy Meals (with chocolate milk) while watching Dora.   

Let's just say that from what I gather she is not the type of mom who feeds her kids at the Golden Arches, or at least the kind of mom that will admit it.   I made some joke about not winning Mother of the Year that day and we had a pleasant enough conversation before she left.

We have not exactly become BFFs.  I actually get the feeling that she avoids me sometimes.  Whenever I run into her at school I either want to run the other way or go up to her and explain that she caught me in a not so great parenting moment and did I mention that one of my kids actually likes brussels sprouts?

My guess is even I was feeding my kids stir fried tofu and broccoli over quinoa while listening to Mozart when she came by, we wouldn't end up having spa days together anyway.  Most of my friends would have laughed and told me about the time they let their kids share a box of Oreos so they could talk on the phone for a few minutes.  

Not that I'VE ever done that.

Spring Break, Day Four

I am running out of steam over here at Mama Ginger Tree's adventure camp.  We needed a day that did not involve a lot of walking around.   Gloppy spent the day at my in-law's house which allowed me to do some un-toddler friendly things with Lolly and Frostine.  The girls were nice enough to watch two episodes of Franklin so I could get a decent run in on the treadmill after breakfast.  Then we decided to hit the library.  Our local public library has a fabulous children's section and I try to make it there as often as possible.   It's hard for me to take all three of them, but Gloppy by himself or the girls by themselves works out fine.  We had a nice, dare I say relaxing time today and the girls picked out several books.

After lunch I picked up my friend K's twin girls and took the four of them to the see Horton Hears a Who.  My friend J and her twins met us there as well.   After the movie I took K's girls back to my house.  It might sound a little strange, but having another set of twin girls over gave me a little relief.  They have always played really well together.  Lolly and Frostine spend more time together than me and Mr. Mint do and I think it's a nice distraction for them to each have someone else to play with.  They all played together for a while and then paired off.  Two went upstairs to play Candyland (no lie!) and two went outside to climb trees.  See if you can spot them in this picture of my backyard.

There is a massive pile of laundry in my living room begging to be folded, but my bed and nightstand full of books is crying louder.   I have our last big adventure planned for tomorrow.  I plan on bringing some help along though in the form of my mother-in-law, sister-in-law and Mr. Mint.   

Why Are You Crying Mom?

Today I was sitting down with my kids having an afternoon snack when the phone rang.  It was one of my dearest and oldest friends, VM.  I could tell immediately that something was wrong.  VM lost her mom to cancer when she was quite young and she and her dad are very close.  She was calling to tell me that her dad has a brain tumor and will be having surgery to remove it within the next couple of days.  My heart sank.  She is an only child and thus has to deal with the doctors, her father's affairs and call the family all on her own.  Of course she is not entirely on her own, she has a very supportive husband and lots of friends who will rally to her side, but still.  Also, when you have already lost a parent, the thought of losing the other one is frightening, no matter how old you are.  VM has a four year old little boy whose best friend is his "papa" and I know she's worried about him as well.

At any rate, when I got off the with her, I was crying.  My kids were clearly a little freaked out.  They know VM and her family, so I was honest with them about why I was upset and after answering five hundred questions they seemed OK.  Princess Frostine made a point to say that she had only seen me cry one time before.  It was when our beloved nanny had her last day with our family and I cried when she left.

It has all made me think about what emotions I express in front of my kids.  My mom rarely showed her emotions in front of us.  She sugar coated everything from our sliced bananas to her feelings.  She still does.  I don't think this is necessarily the right approach.  I am not one to shed tears often, so I think it made my kids feel insecure, but the more we talked about it, I could see their fears lifting.  I think it's good for them to see that I was upset for my friend and we talked about what we can do to help her.  Mr. Mint and I are not always good about hiding our arguments from them.   If I am really angry, I just can't wait until they go to bed to *ahem* express it to him.  

One of the reasons I started this blog is so that my kids can read it someday and get a window into my memories of these times.   Do you shield your emotions from your kids?  If you argue in front of them do you make a point to let them see you "work it out?"  Leave your thoughts in the "comments" section below (all two of you who read this).

And VM, you know I will do anything for you and I'll be here for you, your family and your dad in the coming weeks.

A Night Out

This past Saturday night my sister-in-law and her fiance took all three of the Candy Cane Kids to Chuck E. Cheese.  God bless her.   They had a great time and came back with sparkly bracelets, temporary tattoos and probably some germs since Gloppy the Chocolate Monster has had a runny nose and watery eyes since Sunday.

Mr. Mint and I enjoyed an evening in San Francisco.  We belong to a cooking club that consists of four couples.  Essentially we get together about 4-5 times a year for a potluck type meal at someone's home.  There is usually a theme (i.e., Italian, summer, Thanksgiving) and everyone cooks something that fits into the theme.   We've been getting together with this particular group of people for a little over six years.   When we started, Mr. Mint and I were newly married and the group was a mix of single people, dating couples and married couples.  Over the years it has dwindled to a core group of four couples.  At the beginning, we all lived in San Francisco and one couple had one child.  Today, only one person still lives in San Francisco and there are nine kids between us and one more on the way (not from me!!).

J&M hosted this time at J's house in the city and the theme was Greek.  They are a very well traveled couple who always a story to tell about there latest adventure.  M is a wine enthusiast and always brings some unique bottle to share.  We had this oh so yummy dessert wine the other night courtesy of M.

K&C brought a luscious lemon meringue pie and tasty Greek salad.  They are far and away the dessert experts of the group.   Mr. Mint and I still talk about their bananas foster.  K is a lawyer and C is a graphic artist.  They live in the burbs and have two adorable daughters and one more on the way.  They're a warm and happy couple and I always enjoy spending an evening with them.

R&J couldn't make it on Saturday.   They have four kids, three girls followed by a little baby boy.  They recently remodeled a beautiful house in the suburbs.  R has great taste and her home always feel welcoming.  R&J bring a lot of humor and we feel lucky to be friends with them.  

Whenever we all get together, there is always great food and a few bottles of great wine.  We've shared book recommendations, travel recommendations, nanny tips, remodeling and construction tips, tales of dysfunctional families, stock tips...  you name it.  But mostly we share laughter and friendships that have grown over the past six years.   It's always a great way to spend an evening out.

After we wrapped up our dinner, it was still on the early side and we didn't have to pick up the Candy Cane Kids until the next morning.  So Mr. Mint and I decided to stop by our old neighborhood to one of our favorite restaurants for a glass of wine before we headed home.   I had the "Taste of Italy" wine flight.

The empty glass on the right was a yummy Prosecco that I wasted no time in enjoying.  It was past 10pm when we left the restaurant and it was still quite packed.  Maybe it was all the wine, but being in our old neighborhood in a buzzing restaurant at 10pm made me physically miss living in San Francisco.   I wonder if I'll ever be able to drive through Noe Valley and not feel sentimental and a little bit sad.

Birthday Greeting for a Friend

Today is my friend's birthday.  Let's call her MMM for reasons those that know her will understand.  I've known MMM since high school and she is now the mother of two adorable little children, a wife to a very nice man, and a therapist to some lucky clients.

So MMM, Happy Birthday to you.  I know you are now 37, but I will always remember you as the girl who was always grounded so we'd drive past your house and honk on our way to some high school party.  Were you grounded for our entire Junior year?  I'm amazed that you didn't completely go wild once we went away to college given how strict your upbringing was.  But we did have some fun during those years don't you think?  I'll always remember that trip to Laughlin in your red Honda.  We had nothing better to do that weekend, so off we went.  I can't remember how we paid for the hotel room or our food, but it's one of my favorite memories. 

You are always up for a new adventure.  If I didn't know you I wouldn't be able to say I've been white water rafting or ran a marathon.  Your fashion taste has always been fashion forward.  Please accept my apologies for making fun of  your mules all those years ago.  Little did I know I that someday my closet would contain 4 pairs of them.  I'll always think of you every time I hear a Prince song or buy a red sweater.

Above all, you are an exceptional friend.   I've always admired your ability to see the good in anyone, without judgement.   You handled two difficult pregnancies and births with grace and without losing your sense of humor.  Our friendship will always have ups and downs, but I know I can always count on you and I hope you know I think you are fabulous.  

My b-day present to you is to not post a picture of you in a certain cheerleading uniform.  Believe me, I was tempted.  So I am raising a virtual glass to you on your birthday!  I hope your day is full of laughter and your cute little baby sleeps through the night.  Cheers!

Super Bowl Sunday in the Candy Cane Forest

6:40am:  The kids wake up and make their way into our room.  An argument ensues about whose space is whose and who has the best access to mom.

7:00am:  After I get angry at Mr. Mint for snoring through the argument he gets up and takes the kids downstairs.  I drift back to sleep.

7:15am: I wake up and realize I am supposed to meet my friend K at the gym at 7:15am.  I call her and explain I just woke up, she says she'll be there for a while and to come on down.

7:20am:  I make my way downstairs.  I realize Mr. Mint has started breakfast for the kids and I am so grateful.  I look outside at the rain and feel the freezing kitchen floor on my feet and know I will flake on my friend K and the gym.

9:00am:  After playing with the kids for a while and putting away some laundry, I feel guilty enough and decide to go for a quick run around the neighborhood.

9:05am:  Right after I tie my running shoes, it starts to pour outside.  I wait it out and go for a run anyway.  It feels great.  A light rain starts just as I head up my driveway.

10:30am:  I take a hot shower, listen to the kids destroy the playroom and make a shopping list for the grocery store.

11:00am:  I convince Mr. Mint to take all three kids to the grocery store (on Super Bowl Sunday, right before lunch time! -- sucker!).    While they are gone I clean up the mess that three restless kids can make on a rainy Sunday morning.  After they come home with burritos for lunch, we play a little more.

1:30pm:  A miracle occurs.  All three kids take a nap!  Gloppy still naps, Princess Frostine will still nap on the weekends, and Princess Lolly hasn't really napped for quite a while.   I put Lolly in my room with some books and puzzles and low and behold she played for a while and fell asleep.  Mr. Mint took a nap on the couch and I read a book on my new Kindle for ALMOST TWO HOURS!   

3:00pm:  Football time.  We built a fire, put out some snacks and watched the game.  I have to admit none of us really cared that much about the outcome... I haven't actually watched a Superbowl game since the 49ers were in one.  Gloppy mostly played with his trains and the princesses played a game they called "puppy class" which consisted of them lining up their stuffed dogs in front of the fire and calling each other on their pretend cell phones to say it was time to come pick up their babies.  

6:00pm:  Mr. Mint made his famous burgers stuffed with sauteed mushrooms and we had some blue lake green beans on the side.   Some good friends came by that we haven't seen in ages and we all ate dinner in front of the TV which the kids thought was fabulous.  

8:00pm:  After a lot of silliness (from the kids and the adults) we sent the little people up to bed and the house is quiet again.

Not bad for a rainy Sunday in February.

Ahhhhhhh... Friday

I love Friday. As noted below, Gloppy spends Fridays with my in-laws and the princesses are in kindergarten from 10am-2:45pm. That means it is the one day of the week that I have more than 20 minutes all to myself. I mostly use the day to clean up the house and catch up on projects that are hard to complete with three little kids following me everywhere. I should use the time to just sit and read, but I can never really relax in my house unless the dishes are done and everything is relatively tidy.  This is a problem for me and I often wish I could just let the dishes sit for a while and read a magazine. It seems there is always some project calling out to me on my precious Friday. There is always laundry to fold, a closet to clean, the pantry to organize, some art project to clean up, piles of papers to go through, etc., etc.

Today was turning out to be just such a Friday. But when I got back from the school supply store picking up supplies for the girls upcoming 100th day of school project my friend J called. J and I have been friends ever since we met in a mom's group when our twins were infants. There is no way I would have survived the first few years of motherhood without her. Every new mom should have a J. We spent countless hours together at parks, classes, malls and museums when our twins were babies and toddlers. She is the kind of friend that I can tell anything to and know I am not being judged. One of the things I love and respect about her is that she has the ability to give me people honest opinion without hurting their feelings.  

Today she suggested an afternoon movie and even tough I am looking around my house and can think of thousands of things to get done, I am off to see Juno with J. So I am giving myself a free pass and pat on the back today for doing something fun on this Friday in January.