Bye, Blogger....

Photo courtesy of http://www.ed2010.com

I'll miss you, I really will. Even though, I've been a lackluster blogger these last couple of months, we really had a good thing going. Don't be sad though, it's not you, it's me. I know, I know, that's such a crappy "break-up" line, but well, it's true....mostly.

See, I just gave my website a makeover, and integrated a blog into the new site.
I really wanted to keep using you, but I had to switch over to Wordpress.
It's all Go Daddy's fault. Yeah. They don't offer you as one of their platforms.
I had no choice, I swear.
Oscar made me do it.

Can we still be friends?
Okay, okay, I understand. At least we'll have our memories.

P.S. Come visit, over at my new home!!

Celebration

Baby Chloe at CHOC the day we brought her home. She was so tiny, only five pounds.

It's exactly midnight, July 29, 2009, as I type this.
It's just another day to many, but it's a day of great significance to me and my little family.
Six years ago today, our Chloe came into the world.
SIX YEARS. I cannot believe it.

Sabrina and Chloe, first day home.

You may be thinking, "Yeah, yeah, it's your kid's birthday, big deal.."
But, you see, it is indeed a BIG deal. Huge.
It's a big deal because when Chloe was born, we didn't know how long she would be with us.
She was born with medical issues, lots of them.
We didn't know there would be any problems with her health, beforehand, and were caught completely by surprise.

Parenthood is already a roller coaster ride, but for parents of children with special needs, it is doubly so. I have never been a fan of surprises, but the situation that we found ourselves faced with, ultimately brought out our best.
Our support system has been phenomenal. To all of you, my heart is filled to the brim with love and gratitude. You will never know how much, truly. You mean the world to us.

Chloe's is one year old here. What a cutie pie!

As I look at my sleeping baby (well, six year old, not really a "baby" anymore), I am awed at all she has accomplished. If you know her, you know, that it's been a long journey, but an amazing one, an eye-opening one, a cathartic one.

I am blessed to have been given the opportunity to raise this little person.

Happy, Happy Birthday Chloe.
Here's to many, many more.

My big girl.
Having lunch at Shoreline Village last week.

Summer Lovin'

A Margarita made by my brother-in-law Bruce, heaven in a glass.
(Photo taken by and borrowed from Monica)

The summer is flying, flying by crazy fast. It's already July, soon it will be August, and then September, which means time for the little people to go back to school...though Sabrina is already itching to go back...nutty kid!

There are lots of things I love about summer, as it's slowly evolving into one of my favorite seasons.
Okay, so lets see....summer love is:

Backyard BBQ's
Running through the sprinklers
Frozen yogurt with mini M&M's
Nana's Potato Salad
Blue skies
Slip 'N Slides
Margaritas with extra salt
The smell of Sunscreen

I love summer! Hope you're lovin' it too.

LOL

Sabrina and I have an agreement.
She's allowed to have fast food once a week.
It started out as Fast Food Friday, but I have since thrown caution to the wind, and let her pick whatever day of the week she wants, to have fast food.

Last week, we were pulling out of the drive thru at Carl's Jr, when I glanced at the girls in the rear view mirror, and happened to catch a glimpse of Sabrina examining her arm.

"Sabrina," I said "How many times do I have to tell you to put lotion on your arms?"
"You really need to put lotion everywhere," I continued. "I tell you that ev-..."
"I know, I know," she interrupted me, "I have dyslexia!"
"What?" I said, confused.
"Sabrina, do you even know what dyslexia means?"
"Of course I do!" she said exasperatedly "It means I have really dry skin!"
After a couple of seconds of silence, I erupted into a fit of giggles so fierce, I almost had to pull over to avoid getting into a car accident.
"Mama, what is so funny?" she demanded.
After I caught my breath, I said "Sabrina, you don't have dyslexia, you have eczema!
"Oh," she said "That's what I meant, eczema."

When the giggles finally died down, I explained what dyslexia was, and told her that I wasn't laughing at people that have dyslexia, it was the confusion between the two words, that got me going.

LOL indeed. I haven't laughed that hard in years.

A Melange of Sorts

First of all, I have to say this gloomy weather is killing me.
I am usually digging the gloom, but since June is reaching it's middle point, my brain is seriously confused. I mean, it's supposed to be warm, sunny even, umm, you know, summery.
No, luck though.
It's been overcast and rainy going on two weeks now, with no end in sight.
Oh well, another excuse to fire up the 'ole oven, and bake with abandon.

The other night, Sabrina casually mentions that the 4th/5th grade "Hoedown" is coming up, and would I be so kind as to pick up a "few" things at the market, you know, our contribution to the party.

"Coming up?" I ask, "What does that mean exactly? When do you need to bring this stuff to school?"
She looks away from my piercing death stare, and mumbles,
"Um, let me go get the note."
She hands me a crumbled piece of paper, and as I'm reading it, I notice the deadline to bring in hoedown items is today.
"Sabrina," I say "When did you get this note? The deadline was today."
"Oh," she says quickly, "It's okay, Mrs. V. said we could bring stuff in tomorrow too."
"Well, that's a relief," I say sarcastically.
Then she adds, "Mama, do you think you can make me some of those jeans with the patches, and a cowboy shirt?"

Okay, I love my kid, I swear, but this is Wednesday night, and the hoedown is Friday.
I am many things, but I ain't no miracle worker.
Not to mention, I have been working like a dog on a wholesale order I need to deliver soon.

I promptly tell her she's crazy, and there is no way I can produce an outfit with such little notice.

"Okay mama," she says in a sweet and gentle tone, "I understand."

Can you say, "bad mother"?

I of course, buy the hot dogs and lemonade for the hoedown, and proceed to descend into the realm of guilt, where even the best of mamas end up occasionally.

Yesterday afternoon, giving in to my guilty conscience, I attempt to produce a "cowgirl-ish" outfit for the hoedown.
I have to say, the fact that she would even want to wear an outfit made by me (she is almost ten, which says it all), is a victory in itself, and well worth the extra effort on my part, to sew it all at the last minute.
She looked adorable, and was so grateful, that I really felt like a heel for my initial reluctance.

Here's my girl:

Bright eyed and bushy tailed.

Love the jeans.

Ready to get down at the hoedown.

On another topic entirely, I have to give some props to Oscar for his transformation of my fabric cabinet. In a nutshell, I got the cabinet from Monica, who graciously gave it to me gratis.
It originally had glass panels, because I believe it was intended to be used as a china cabinet.
I kept the panels for quite some time, but since I used it to store my fabric, which most of the time, was not a pretty site, I longed for a solution that would keep everything inside, hidden.
I tried papering the glass, which was okay, but I didn't like it as a permanent solution.
Mirrors? Antiqued mirrors? It was brilliant, but I continued to drag my feet.

Recently, I asked Oscar if it would be possible to put beadboard in place of the glass.
"Sure," he said "No problem."
No offense to my lovely husband, but sometimes "projects" take a while to get done around here.
To my delight, a week later, he completed this project for me, and happily, I might add.

Here is the cabinet in its various stages of metamorphosis:

The original glass.

The papered glass.

The new and improved cabinet, with beadboard panels.

Ooh pretty.

Love the birdies.

One more birdie in flight, and check out those boss rose knobs.

I think it turned out well. You?
The knobs are from here, and the birdies, from here.

It's Friday, yay!
Enjoy.

Please forget the lyrics.

(pic borrowed from LadyGaga.com)

A couple of weeks ago, Sabrina, Chloe and I were watching Dancing with the Stars, the finale.
Sabrina is crazy for that show, and by default, I guess I am too, a little.

My favorite part though, is the results show, mostly because of the guest appearances by some pretty cool singers/artists, whatever they call themselves these days.

Anyway, the DWTS (as it will hereafter be known) finale was no different.
Lady Gaga was on.
Okay, I have seen her perform here and there, even live (although at the time I hadn't heard of her, and since she was one of the opening acts for New Kids on the Block, her performance was lost on me anyway).
I'm not sure whether to love her or hate her...until the DWTS performance.

She sang two songs, I'm not sure if the first one was "Puh-puh-puh-puh-poker Face", or "Let's Dance" but no matter, since it was the second song that won me over.

"Let's have some fun, this beat is sick
I wanna take a ride on your disco stick."

I thought nothing of it, only that it was a mighty catchy tune, and the girls agreed with me.
Well, not Chloe so much, but she's only five, and still worships Barney, so what does that tell you?
Sabrina thought Lady Gaga, and the "Disco Stick" song were awesome.

The next day, as Sabrina re-watched the DWTS finale, for like the fifteenth time, Oscar happened to be in the room, right as the delightful Lady G was doing her thing.

"Let's have some fun, this beat is sick
I wanna take a ride on your disco stick."

Sabrina was also getting her groove on, belting out the lyrics, at the top of her lungs.
"I wanna take a ride on your disco stick."

Oscar looked at me, his eyebrow raised, and whispered under his breath,
"We can't let her keep singing that."
I quietly whispered back,
"Oh?"
"Well. you know," he said, "It sounds dirty."
"What do you mean?" I said, still oblivious to the reason for Oscar's mortification.

Boy, am I slow.

"Oh crap, " I said, "Disco stick, that does sound bad."
I'm sure our minds didn't mean to take a naughty turn into the gutter, it just happened.
Don't judge me.

Our worries were in vain however, since the next day, Lada Gaga and her now notorious song were quickly forgotten, as Sabrina's main concern shifted to what the school cafeteria was going to serve for lunch.

Until today.

Chloe and I picked Sabrina up from school, and as I was fiddling around with the radio stations, I heard the song, that apparently we all had been longing to hear...

"Let's have some fun, that beat is sick,
I wanna take a ride on your disco stick."

"Let's play a love game, play a love game,
Do you want love or you want fame?
Are you in the game? Doin' the love game."

"Mama, I love this song!" Sabrina exclaimed
"Uh yeah, me too," I said "It's called Love Game."
"Really?" Sabrina said, "I just call it Disco Stick."

Sweaty Summer

I love this picture.
When I see it, I definitely think of Summer, not sweat.

It's almost June, which means that in twenty-two short days it will "officially" be summer, though most people mark summer's beginning as right after Memorial Day.
Either way, summer.

Don't get me wrong, I love summer.
Longer days, warm weather, the sun.
It's all good.

The problem is, that along with the heat, comes the sweat.
I have the very unfortunate problem of being a "sweat-er"
No, not a sweater, like the kind you wear, but a "sweat-er," as in one who sweats...a lot.

I don't know why, but I have always had this, um you know, issue.
It's pretty embarrassing, and it gets worse if I am particularly stressed out.

Example:
I am getting ready for a _________(fill in the blank with an important event here).
Wedding, birthday party, confession, you name it.
It never fails. As soon as the adrenaline starts flowing, so does the sweat.
Once those initial drops start to make their way down my face/back/whatever, I try to relax, deep breathe, think of something or someone, like my fantasy boyfriend Michael Buble.

Nothing works, and I'm doomed to ride out the sweaty wave, until it subsides on its own.

So, what to do?
After lots of analyzing and research, I've come up with a brilliant solution.

Crank up the A/C full blast, and strip down to the bare minimum, while employing deep breathing techniques, and a Michael Buble fantasy.

Relaxation will ensue, and the "sweats" will be no more.
Standing in front of the open freezer door, with a spoon, and a giant pint of ice cream work too.

Ahh summer, can't wait.