Kirsten's Random Utterances

Sadie's Story

2012-02-10T10:50:00.000-05:00

I was away at college when my sister called me excitedly. “I got a puppy!”

Not expecting this news at all, I asked question after question. “How big?”

“Really little. Like a kitten.”

“What color?”

“She's all black with what looks like grey eyeliner around her eyes.”

Very fashionable

She sounded really cute, and when I came home for a break I was not disappointed. Sadie looked up at me with one ear straight up in the air and one flopping down on the side of her head. She was also much bigger then any kitten I had seen!

“They're always like that,” Maggie said, pointing to her ears. “I think someone tried to clip them, but one didn't take.”

Resting on a pillow

Throughout the years, Sadie proved to be a great dog with a sweet disposition. When it came time for Maggie to go away to college herself and for my mom to move out of the state, however, we ran into a bit of a conundrum. What do we do about Sadie?

The moment their eyes met, the answer was clear. My husband and Sadie were like soul mates.

With her shirt on

Sadie came to live with us, and couldn't have been happier with her new living situation. Kyle took Sadie on several walks a day, wrestled with her, and snuggled at the end of the day. She was an integral part of our little family.

Meeting Winnie for the first time

A lot of changes happened along the way the Sadie took in stride. We got Winnie, a very high-energy puggle, Avery was born, and most recently, Hunter was born as well. We've moved, gone on trips, and changed a lot of our lifestyle as a result of our growing family, but Sadie was a constant in our lives.

As time moved forward, Sadie got older before our eyes, and recently has been getting very sick. When Kyle took her to the vet last night, she didn't come home.

Rest in peace, old girl. We'll miss you.

The Boo-Boo

2012-02-09T13:50:00.000-05:00

I held in the curses that I could feel escaping my lips as I lay on the floor, wincing in pain. “Ow. Ow. Ow,” I repeated over and over, in the hopes that the mere recitation of the syllable would cure the ache in my knee.

I could see her staring at me from her easel in the corner, just waiting to repeat any inappropriate outburst that I allowed to come out. So I held it all in.

For the 97th time over the course of six years in that house, I had slipped on the wood floors while wearing socks. Why would I have learned my lesson?

So, there I sat, knee clutched tightly, rocking back and forth.

“What are you doing, Mommy?” Avery gently inquired.

“Nothing. I fell.”

“Do you have a boo-boo?”

I responded through gritted teeth, “Yeah- I think it's a bruise.” Why wasn't it feeling better yet?

“Do you need a band aid?” Now she seemed truly concerned.

“Nope.”

Then, without any prompting, Avery came over and kissed my knee and gave me a giant hug.

It's moments like these that make me so thankful to be a mom. Even through a little pain, something so simple as your child's kiss can make everything all better.

What is Love: Take 2

2012-02-07T15:02:00.000-05:00

As Valentine's Day quickly approaches (and I seem to have less and less time to dedicate to new pieces), I thought I'd re-post this from last year.

When I was a tyke, my friend Jill and I came up with a song that expressed lyrics to the world (well, to our parents who were forced to listen- and videotape- all of our *charming* ballads) that questioned the reality of that reclusive, yet sublime sensation: “What is love? Wh-wh-wh- what is love? What is love all about? What can I do to find out? I wanna know what it's all about. Tell me now- I wanna know what love is...”

Needless to say, Jill and I did not end up as famous performers or songwriters, yet even as I sit here today, the same inquiries invade my mind: What is love? I know that I have it with my husband, my daughter, my family; I know that I would swim in a vat of dead rodents for them if need be, but actually defining the emotion in words seems impossible to me.

As that eminent day approaches, I scoured the internet in search of the various definitions of the word, in order to get a better idea:

“Love”

have a great affection or liking for (I have great affection for Taco Bell- but do I love it? )
to be enamored with (I am completely enamored by each actor on Modern Family- but is it love?)
a score of zero in tennis or squash (romantic- I know)
to get pleasure from (Oo-la-la)

Alright- perhaps these definitions weren't exactly what I was looking for. I'll just leave it up to the experts:

“One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: That word is love.” ~Sophocles
“We love because it's the only true adventure.” ~Nikki Giovanni
“Love is the master key that opens the gates of happiness.” ~Robert Mitchum
“Love makes your soul crawl out of its hiding place.” ~Zora Neale Hurston

Okay...

Since I'm still pretty unsure about the definition of what love actually is, I will pose this question to you:

What is love?

p.s.- Ever since I wrote the question I can't seem to get the car scene from “Night at the Roxbury out of my head.

^ What's Going on Up There? ^

2012-01-31T12:44:00.001-05:00

Take a look at the tabs below the title and picture.

A little lower.
To the left.
Okay, good.

Check them out if you get a chance- I'm curious to know what readers think about the short stories that I posted, and how I can make improvements or what I should continue.

p.s.- Don't say anything too mean, or I'll cry.

It Takes Having Two to Realize how Easy it Is to Have One

2012-01-31T09:01:00.001-05:00

Here I am again, back to my normal (and I use the term loosely) self. During the nine straight months of nausea, irritability, and general sickness, I couldn't muster up the charge to write anything; let alone cook, clean, or do anything other than make sure my toddler didn't dive off elevated surfaces head-first. But now I sit with ten minutes of “me time” for the first instance since Hunter was born in November. Granted, Avery is bopping her Diego and Baby Jaguar toys up and down my left arm, but you take what you can get.

Don't misread my intention from the title of my post; I don't mean to imply that infants aren't easy (eating, sleeping, pooping, repeat- that's their daily schedule, correct?), but I had Avery's and my days completely mapped out before, and now it takes seven hours to get out of the house.

If asked what she'd like to wear, Avery's choice is a frilly dress each time. She usually layers a half a dozen necklaces on top, too. Such a fashionista.

So, I ask you to please share- what are some of your personal “tricks” to make child-rearing a delightful experience?

I'll go first: after breast feeding for a grand total of two weeks, we began exclusively formula-feeding the baby (an expense and a chore to make). Using the powder (much cheaper than the pre-made stuff), I make a huge batch that lasts about two days and pour into a pitcher.

I have no idea if this is an innovative idea or something that is so antiquated that I should be given the corny award for excellence in a cliched lifestyle, but I thought I'd pony up a response as well.

Anyway, here's my new kid...

"Sometimes I like to lie in a basket."

A Guessing Game

2011-05-03T13:18:00.001-04:00

So here are some hints...

I have gained an exorbitant amount of weight (read: not good for the ol' bikini-bod) in the past few months.
Those working the drive-through at Wendy's, Taco Bell, and McDonald's are starting to recognize my voice and ask if I want “the usual.” I have also "forgotten" my way to the gym (which, in actuality, could have something to do with hint #1).
The passengers sitting near me on the plane home from Florida last week were not pleased when I spent a half hour throwing up into the air-sick bag.
Grey motion-sickness wristbands have become a part of my everyday fashion attire (I'm trying to start a new trend).
Avery is no longer scared of the doctor, since when we go now, it's always for me.

Figured it out yet?

As a Nation, We should Pat Ourselves on the Back (even if some of us went to bed early last night)

2011-05-02T08:25:00.002-04:00

Apparently a lot can happen after you fall asleep at 8:30...

It is a truly happy occasion for all Americans, that we can sleep more peacefully in the knowledge that such a horrible person is no longer with us.

Bin Laden was killed in a firefight yesterday with American special forces. There were no American casualties. Osama Bin Laden was "the face of global terrorism and architect of the Sept. 11, 2001" (Dozier and Espo, Associated Press). Read more about the events that occurred yesterday here.

Many people were affected personally by the September 11th attacks on the World Trade Center, and, as a New Yorker, I do not know anyone who was not directly influenced by the horrific events. Though we will never forget what happened on that fateful day in 2001, a chapter has now been closed with the news of Bin Laden's death.

This is not a day to divide ourselves with politics, to remember the missteps that the United States has made along the way, to place blame or congratulate figureheads who, suffice it to say, didn't have much to do with it at all; rather it is a day for all of us to be united, that a goal has been accomplished, and that, ultimately, one of America's foremost convictions has finally been realized.

Thank you to the service men and women who made this possible, and God bless America!

"I have never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure" ~Mark Twain

Gone (for a time), but not Forgotten (by some, at least)

2011-04-28T16:13:00.000-04:00

As I watch my "followers" number descend (can people be blamed? It's been a month since my last post...), I feel that it is my duty to thank all those who have stuck by (or didn't notice my absence) and let everyone know that I do plan to continue writing (and, hopefully, entertaining), however events over the past several weeks have prevented be from doing so.

Please stay tuned (and on the edges of your collective seat), as I do want to make an announcement soon.

Thank you again, I'll talk to all of you soon!

Here's a picture of Avery that has nothing to do with anything. She's apparently shocked.

Facebook 25

2011-03-28T13:40:00.001-04:00

While perusing some blogs out there, I came across Fond of the Silliness' post, "Facebook 25," where she copied her list of "25 Things About Me" from Facebook to share with readers. I thought this was a very fun idea, so I'm posting mine (with a couple of changes, since it's a few years later!). I'd love it if you guys would post a list like this as well, and leave me a link to your list (or just publish a few as a comment).

1. I often walk into a room and have absolutely no idea why I went in there in the first place.

2. I was an English teacher and have studied American grammar in detail, and yet my husband insists on putting apostrophe's in' nearl'y every' wor'd he' write's.

3. I love going on airplanes. From packing- to takeoff- to drinking in the morning, it's my favorite.

4. I often look back at my college years, those that I can remember, and think, no- that couldn't have been me.

5. Sometimes I like to color. In a coloring book. Like a child.

6. The other night I had a dream that Kyle drove us off a cliff, and we were teetering on the edge, facing certain doom. When I woke up I was a little pissed at him.

7. Even though I am eight years older than my sister, I still act like the typical youngest child.

8. I played the title role in my Junior High's production of "Oliver!" Speaking of which, almost every part I have ever played on stage was a little boy.

9. I LOVE going to school- new notebooks and folders give me an intense thrill.

10. I have white roller skates with pink wheels sitting in my closet that I got in my twenties. I've never used them and refuse to give them up.

11. I've never had a cavity.

12. I'm really unsure how I managed to compete on the balance beam for years, and yet I can't walk a straight line for the life of me.

13. I am an emotional basketcase and will often cry at the slightest thing- or nothing at all, depending on my mood.

14. I enjoy watching horror movies or stupid comedies. No dramas for me (see #13).

15. I have wanted to wear high heels since I was in fourth grade. So- yeah they hurt, but I wear them anyway.

16. I love raw food- sushi and anything tar-tar- yum!

17. My dog, Sadie, gets offended when anyone makes rude remarks. She will usually get up and walk into another room.

18. We were so tiny growing up that my friend Katie and I never even got on a riser at chorus concerts. We were "floor girls."

19. I love that Kyle won't go on roller coasters, because he holds our bags while we're riding.

20. I never owned a diamond until my engagement ring.

21. I hope that I won't be one of those overbearing mothers, but I can totally see it happening.

22. Though I've been living with Kyle for seven years, I still don't know anything about the game of football (other than the fact that the quarterbacks are usually cute).

23. I was a total liberal hippie democrat... until I got my first paycheck.

24. I am a very optimistic person. Perhaps it is naive, but it works for me.

25. I love to receive flowers.

Cycle

2011-03-25T12:35:00.001-04:00

Rain: beryl, delicate, in grace

Drops and falls from ashen skies

Cleansing Earth's floor of impurities

That we may start anew

The rain gives way to a violet sky,

Flecked with the powdery clouds that had once seemed so sinister.

Now lovely.

Bringing Promises of origin

Bringing Promises of beginning

Bringing Promises...

Eventually, the citrus sun peaks

Laughter abounds- carried on the warm breezes

The sounds of splashing...

The swinging, the sandcastles

Amber warmth penetrates cool winds;

Copper and crimson leaves crunch underfoot.

Warm apple pie is served to rosy-cheeked guests

And the orange spheres that decorate front porches mimic the glow of the sun

As it moves toward the distant horizon

Nature's crochet work decorates branches.

The chirping has ceased, and all is quiet

It is a time for reflection.

Finally, the silvery orb gravitates

Nearly out of sight

Sleep...

A Couple of Drool-Worthy Food Pics

2011-03-23T17:11:00.000-04:00

At the request of some of my spectacular readers, I thought I'd post a couple of yummy pictures of my most recent adventures in my little cucina.

Breaking All the Rules

The other day I faked it. That's right: I faked the chicken parm.

Though the culinary artistes in the crowd may cry out, “But, why?!”

My reply? “Because I can.”

It was a third gone before I remembered to snap a photo. Whoops!

So, here's how it goes:

Flour, egg, and bread some chicken cutlets (I actually used tenderloins, since it was what we had), then panfry in olive oil until golden on all sides (about 4 minutes total).
Pour your fave jarred marinara in a baking dish (I used Rao's- mmm...).
Place the chicken in the saucy dish, the cover in shredded mozzarella (you can also use sliced fresh mozz if you'd like.
Throw the concoction in the oven until brown and bubbly (about 25 minutes at 400 degrees). The chicken should be cooked through.
Serve with spaghetti. Voila!

Healthy Habits

Perhaps not the most beautiful of meals, but it's healthy and good. That's got to count for something, right?

So I've finally decided to try my hand at bulgur. This dish called for spinach and basil leaves to be thrown in at the last minute to wilt with the warm wheat. Overall, the recipe was pretty good, but almost too filling. You can follow the recipe here: Real Simple's Chicken with Bulgur Pilaf

Mmmm... bulgur

Enjoy!

Lazy Girl

2011-03-22T14:22:00.001-04:00

In the past few days I haven't been feeling up to par, so cranking out any kind of writing has been a challenge. To be honest I've been working on a poem (cue mass eye roll) that has been taking longer then I had anticipated. Though I would normally not particularly care about leaving the blog for a week while I dealt with illness and/or brain block, I can't tolerate the fact that my last post deals with a date that was so obviously last week.

Therefore, I have decided to re-post a little something I wrote several months back (how lazy of me, I know). However, if you haven't read it, I do think it is quite relatable to many and hopefully entertaining to some. If nothing else, it gives you a little insight into who I am. Enjoy!

Bizarre, yet Sublime:

What I Had Never Thought

Before an orchestra can inaugurate the sublime beauty of a symphony, one that swells and ebbs through our souls, dances upon our hearts, and fills us with a grand prodigious emotion, it must prepare: tune, warm-up, and practice. The sound that is emanated from the ensemble before the conductor taps his baton on the podium can be rather, um, unharmonious. And, with one dog scrambling in a frenzy over a squirrel outside, the other yapping ceaselessly at a neighbor who (gasp!) dared to walk past the house, the dryer's emphatic banging, and a toddler's joyful squeals, I am reminded of this cacophonous moment. In truth, I never thought I'd be a stay-at-home mom. Although I've been known to don an apron to avoid the inevitable flour spill in the kitchen, I do not vacuum the carpet daily, nor do I iron the bedsheets, and if my husband has been waiting for me to lay out his work suits each day, he's going to be showing up to the office in the nude.

I have always had an image of the stay-at-home mom as a woman who anticipated and tended to every need of her family with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. She wore sensible shoes, oven mitts, and a perfectly coifed bob, and she listened to Tony Bennett while frosting a chocolate cake. This could NEVER be me: uncomfortably high heels, chipped purple fingernail polish, and long hair piled in a wet knot at the back of my head. Led Zeppelin (and, at times, Tony Bennett) roars out of the ipod speakers, and there are no sweet confections displayed lovingly on the countertop. Not exactly the image of June Cleaver, yet here I am. Mom. Everyday. Every minute.

That's not to say that being a stay-at-home mother is not rewarding- it is actually the most gratifying, worthwhile adventure on which I have ever embarked- it's just a situation that I never thought I would experience. Having had jobs from the time I was able, going to college and graduate school, working as a teacher for several years, nothing could prepare me for this anomalous, yet magnificent, journey.

As plans often do, ours had changed at the last possible instant. The map of our lives was to take my requisite maternity leave, and then return to the classroom that I so loved- filled with literature, grammar manuals, posters, and punctuation texts. This plan was thwarted, however, the moment I gazed upon my baby's tiny, purple feet. Skinny and delicate, her diminutive toes were perfectly formed, and her little toenails flawless. These were the feet on which she would stand for the very first time, jump up-and-down in excitement when she got her driver's license, and the feet that would eventually carry her down the aisle. Perhaps I was weak, maybe a trifle selfish, but I could not bear to miss out on some of these extraordinary milestones.

So each day my objective is to absorb as much about my little girl as I can, such as the fact that she discovers countless information about an object by tasting, explores each meal by touching and mashing it with her hands, and listens intently to the wind when she plays outside. She relies so often on senses that we, as adults, have determined are useless in many scenarios. Therefore, short of squishing the spaghetti between my fingers in a restaurant, I have begun to slow down in my daily activities, to immerse myself in the world by truly recognizing it through taste, touch, smell, sight, and listening. Who knew that a one-year old could be such an outstanding teacher? I always suspected she was a genius.

Now, there are definitely times that I long to go off to my own workplace, to wear some of the suit pants that hang, dejected, in my closet, to come home to my family, who beam because they haven't seen me all day. Unmistakeably, there are several monetary benefits to working outside the home, as well, and communicating with more adults prevents one from replying in goo-goos to the grocery store clerk. Nevertheless, I enjoy where I am right now: jeans-clad, broke, speaking in gibberish to members of the community, happy.

So here I sit, amid the loud, raucous chaos. Barking dogs, buzzing appliances, screeching child- all of these sounds a precursor to the beautiful symphony that comes with the knowledge that this is the life that I have created and am privileged to be a part of every day.

Bloggaversary

2011-03-17T19:20:00.004-04:00

Tomorrow, March 18th, marks my one year bloggaversary (is that how you spell it? It's always hard to get made-up words correct...), so in honor of this (kinda) special occasion, I thought I'd present to you my first post, written approximately one year ago, with a very different blog in mind. Here we go.

Trials and Errors- oh, so many errors

Life is a series of trials- I know it is my first go-around. We can make plans: I planned to make all my baby's food from scratch each day, I planned on always working full time, I planned on living a life a little less ordinary... Well, hopefully the last is still on the table (I am, according to some, still young). Without trial, how would I know that purple eye shadow just isn't for me? That making the bed shapes my mood for the entire day? That cooking, though at times frustrating, makes me feel happy; I am providing for my family (even if said family that I am providing for is just me and my husband).

That said, I have been constantly trying new recipes out, in order to keep up the variety (spice it up? Ugh- sorry), accumulate more strategies and recipes in my repertoire, and just hone this craft into a skill that I can be incredibly proud of.

And perhaps blogging about it will give me something to go on the internet for, aside from checking Facebook 85 times a day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That is all folks- I will see you all in my second year!

p.s.- As a side note, I still "try" purple eyeshadow about once a month, just to be sure.
p.p.s.- Happy St. Patty's. Have some green beer, and get your celebration under way!

First Haircut

2011-03-16T18:02:00.000-04:00

Before

"Umm, I don't know about this..."

During

Notice the single tear streaming down her face.

After

"I feel pretty, Oh so pretty..."

What? A Dinner Plan? Recipe Links?

2011-03-15T13:19:00.002-04:00

I know, I know... It has been, like, FOREVER since I last discussed a dinner plan and gave links for recipes. I thought it was a good time to discuss what has gone on in Kir's Kitchen recently and share some links to a couple of the successes thus far.

Lately, I have been on a healthy kick; incorporating more of the good-for-you stuff into our evening meals. Discovering quinoa was a big part of the dietary change-over. It tastes good (you can do so much with it), keeps you full for a long time (I'm pretty sure that it's expanding in my stomach after I ingest it), and is chock full of protein and fiber (my trainer would be so proud!). If you have yet to try this great side dish, I definitely suggest that you do so. It's worth a try! If you are hesitant to get started on the quinoa journey, here are some basic recipes to try.

Chicken with Parmesan, Garlic, and Herb Crust

I made this with chicken tenderloins, and it ended up as a great alternative to everyday chicken fingers. Plus, it was simple!

Whole-grain Spaghetti with Garlicky Kale and Tomatoes

Instead of spaghetti, try a shorter whole-grain pasta. I substituted fusilli for the longer variety. Doing so (a happy accident, because it was all I had in the pantry) was great because the walnuts, kale, and tomatoes were chunky as well as the noodles. It all worked well together.

Molasses Chicken Breasts with Swiss Chard

Easy and delicious, this was a very good recipe choice; however, because of the sugar content in the glaze, the pan was nearly impossible to clean after broiling. Tinfoil next time?

Okay, so that's a few, I hope you enjoy them... bon appetite!

Let's Hop Around Town This Weekend

2011-03-11T11:06:00.004-05:00

Exciting news! I was randomly selected to be the featured blogger in I Heart Maternity's weekend bloghop. I hope that all you bloggers out there have an opportunity to participate in the fun, gain new friends and followers, and check out some other wonderful sites. Don't forget to leave me a message if you link up, so I can check you out as well!

Anyway, here is the information:

I’m so excited it’s time for our 2nd Weekend Blog Hop and I’m so happy it’s finally Friday…We had a great turn out last week considering it was our first we ended up with 48 entries!! Let's see if we can top that number this week. I would love to see this blog hop just grow.

I decided to start a blog hop of my own that will run on the weekends. I've connected with tons of mom bloggers and businesses through blog hops, so why not help others do the same. This blog hop will start every Friday and run throughout the weekend.

Rules:

-You MUST Follow the Host (Me) which I think is only fair

-You MUST Follow this week's Featured Blogger

-Leave Me a Comment so I know to Follow New Followers Back

-Family Friendly Blogs ONLY -I reserve the right to remove any blogs I feel are inappropriate

-I will choose a blog from those that enter to be a featured blogger via Random.org

-Have FUN meeting others.

This week’s Featured Blog was Lucky # 27 from last weeks hop:

(Hey that's me!)

The Name Game

2011-03-10T18:21:00.000-05:00

When I saw this question-and-answer post on the blog “In the Loop,” I was interested right away to find out how others felt about names- their meanings, origins, connotations, etc.

I definitely recommend that you check out her page as well as my own to compare, and then consider your own answers (and I'd love to hear about them- leave a comment with some of your own feedback, or write a post of your own and send me a link)!

Pic from here

1. How did your parents decide on your name?

At first, my parents were gung-ho about the first name Brook, my middle name already decidedly Lynn. It took them quite a while to realize the combination of the two was a region incredibly close to where we were living (who knew that the name “Brooklyn” would skyrocket in popularity in the next couple decades?). They ultimately decided on “Kirsten,” a Swedish name that my paternal grandmother suggested.

2. Do your initials (First, Middle, Last) spell out anything fun/funny?

Had I kept my maiden name in the mix, I would be KLAM, but since that didn't happen, I have no fun initials to speak of.

3. Did you take your middle name from childhood or did you take your maiden name as your middle name?

As I stated in the above question, I did not. Keeping my maiden name with my new married last name would have resulted in a very long and tedious signature.

4. Are you or will you name your children thematically (ie. same first letter, all of same origin…)

Since my husband's first name also begins with a K, we tried to steer clear of all monikers that begun with the letter, or even the sound. I have enough trouble trying not to confuse the names of the baby, the dogs, and everyone else I come into contact with...

5. Did you decide on baby names as a little girl? Did you stick to them or change your mind?

I can remember absolutely loving the name Samantha, because it was so feminine, but was shortened to Sam, a typical boy's name. It was multidimensional to 8-year-old me, and I was enamored by that fact (plus the fact that it was the name of one of the original American Girl Dolls- bonus!).

6. Does your family have any names that have been passed down through generations?

Not that I can think of. I have no brothers though, and I feel like males have more of an inclination to name their male children after themselves or other relatives. All I know is that I'll never name my child the same as his father. Way too confusing (see # 4, above).

7. Do you look at the meaning of the name or just the name itself?

No, I tend not to look at the meaning. Unless the definition is “evil toddler that cries all the time and doesn't ever sleep”- then I'm inclined to pay more attention to meaning.

8. Do you name pets with human names (Sally, Henry) or with pet names (Fluffy, Mr. Bo Bo)?

Human- the girls are “Sadie” and “Winnie.” I mean, it's not like their names are Peter and Victoria. I think there's definitely a difference between human names that are appropriate for animals and those that are not (although names that are usually completely human- like "Brian" from "Family Guy"- are somehow hilarious to me).

9. Are there any names that you have an affinity or dislike for based on a childhood experience/someone you once knew?

Absolutely. I was a teacher, so there are several names that have been tainted for me. Conversely, there are many monikers that I would be glad to use because of the same fact!

10. What are some of your favorite names? Why?

I love names that truly represent the people that carry them. My sister's name, Maggie, is perfect for her. I can't put my finger on the exact reason, I just know that it's right for her!

Attack of the Dolls!

2011-03-09T11:37:00.001-05:00

In our house, stuffed animals- their cuddly and soft bodies, whimsical markings, and adorable little faces- are shoved into the closet, thrown into baskets, and misplaced under the bed, never to be played with. One would think their cozy fluffiness would be perfect for nap time, but Avery only wants dollies.

A select few of the collection

Our house has become overrun with dolls that cry, dolls that eat, and dolls that talk. The dolls represent characters from movies, from television shows, and from popular children's stories. Looking toward the living room, I spy several doll strollers and carriages, doll cribs (not to mention the doll bed- for the “older” of the bunch), a little doll wagon (for the nicer springtime weather), and a dolly highchair.

There must be two dollies in the crib at all times

And though Avery seems to play favorites in one moment, it changes in the next; thus making it impossible to guess which to take for a weekend away.

As her second birthday approaches, it only scares me that more dolls and their paraphernalia are coming our way.

Perhaps she's trying to tell us something- maybe it's time to get on the ball and give her a sibling “baby” to play with. My biggest concern is that she'll want to play with the new (living and breathing) baby doll too much...

p.s. She likes to undress them all, too. Is this a normal practice?

Everyday Superpowers

2011-03-08T15:26:00.000-05:00

Who hasn't dreamt of at some point attaining some sort of super-power: uncommon strength, invisibility, super-speed?

Sure, these abilities would make everyday tasks slightly more manageable, but the downside is that other people's expectations of you would be far greater.

Sure, you woke up, swept the floors, cleaned the kitchen, made the bed, folded the laundry, and changed the baby in a matter of less than a second, but why couldn't you make some pancakes as well?

Perhaps this is the real reason that those with super-human gifts keep them under wraps.

The reason I bring this up (aside from the fact that I watched 3 taped episodes of “No Ordinary Family” in a row last night), is that it seems the more a person accomplishes, the more that is expected of him or her.

Apparently my frustration level has hit an all-time high...

Those who are naturally a little on the lazy side are said to be “doing everything they can, given their, you know, capabilities,” whereas those who are hard-working individuals taking up the slack for the others are simply given more and more responsibilities to take care of, because “she won't ever crack!”

What happens as a result is that busy people have a need to constantly discuss how swamped they are, in a feeble attempt to prove to everyone else that they are a part of the latter division.

My point is (it's true- there is a point to my ramblings) that this practice is counter-intuitive. Instead of coming across as over-worked and exhausted, it seems that these people are able to manage it all. Why not give them a few extra tasks to handle?

So, take it from the superheros out there. Keep quiet about your ability to do 20 loads of laundry in a single bound. Keep hush-hush that you can complete each of your work tasks while three screaming super-villains, er, children, try to pull you away from the computer. And, for goodness sake, don't tell a soul that dinner can be made in its entirety in a half hour.

We'll call it our little secret.

T.A.D. (Target Attention Deficit)

2011-03-07T12:08:00.002-05:00

It has become an absolute impossibility for me to drop in to Target and simply pick up what I came for, give the cashier the 20 bucks, and be on my way in a cool 15 minutes (as I had set out to do).

When I arrive there, I come face-to-face with bags of pretzels, wheat thins, goldfish crackers, and cookies that I (all of a sudden) need to have. Though the toy section (I came in for a birthday present for one of Avery's buddies) is across the store to the right, I make an executive decision to loop around, as not to miss anything.

The grocery aisles remind me that we need more bread, granola bars, oh- and why not grab some raisins too?

Dog biscuits are a must (to keep the puppies happy), we're almost out of laundry detergent, and that's a really cute top!

I peruse the $1 bins- just to see what they contain this week. I pick up some trinkets that will be good for Avery's Easter basket this year.

Finally, I end up at the cards, but on the way to the birthday section, I scope out some holiday greetings that I should purchase for the various relatives and other children in my life.

I walk swiftly over to the toys, trying to avert my gaze from all of the spectacular goodies that line the aisles on the way. Walking up and down with my specific goal in mind, I spy several things that I know would be just perfect for Matt, Nate, Zoe, Thea, and Miles- but I remain focused on my task at hand, repeating the mantra, “birthday present, birthday present, birthday present...” over and over aloud. Avery looks at me as though I'm insane, then looks back down at all the trinkets in the cart and giggles.

I got what I came for, then strolled over toward the children's section. Does Avery need new socks? Yeah, why not? The clearance racks had a couple tees that I had liked at full price, so for $3.88, it was a steal to grab a few.

Taking a deep breath I made the decision that I NEEDED to get to the cashier immediately.

On the way, I grabbed some new make-up and some face lotion. Hey I needed it!

And when I see a great pair of camel-colored wedges on sale (and just my size!), it just felt like kismet.

So, one hour and an empty wallet later, I traveled back to the car, loaded up my trunk with my new belongings and was on my way.

It wasn't until we pulled into the driveway that I remembered that I hadn't picked up any wrapping paper. I guess I'll just have to stop in again to quickly pick some up...

One of THOSE Days

2011-03-04T14:32:00.000-05:00

I know the events that have thus far transpired throughout the course of today may not be the most terrible that have ever occurred, but to one who is currently dealing with such things one after the other, it has just been “one of those days.”

These bothersome aggravations, coupled with the severe mood swings due to, er, hormonal fluctuations, have led me to consume three cans of Diet Dr. Pepper today- a soda habit that I'm trying (rather unsuccessfully, I guess) to break. Since it is only 2:00, I'm hoping the day will turn around. It is Friday, after all...

For the purpose of cleansing my brain to start anew, I am going to divulge some of the day's happenings.

This morning I went to the gym. After trying three machines that didn't work for some reason or another (on one of them the TV was broken- how am I supposed to workout without Regis and Kelly's wild antics?), I finally found an elliptical that ran correctly, but the water bottle holder was cracked. Balancing my adorable pink container on top of the machine, I began doing my thing (and watching Josh Groban fill in for the Reg- who knew a classical singer could be so funny?). Anyhoo, the next thing I knew, my water bottle smashed to the ground. I found a place for it on the floor and continued in my run toward, well, nowhere. When I looked down on the floor 10 minutes later, there was water pooled everywhere, being absorbed by my sweatshirt that I had the pleasure of donning, while still soaked, outside in the 30 degree weather. Fun! I had to throw my cracked bottle in the trash, then try to sop up the puddle under my machine with the non-absorbent paper towels that the gym provides, while the janitor gave me nasty looks.

When we got home from that little escapade, I put Avery in for her nap. Six minutes later, she was crying. When I went in to check on her, she was standing up in her crib. “No nap,” she proclaimed, then handed me her pacifier and lifted up her arms. “Down.”

Trying to get myself together was a treat; when I emerged from the bathroom after swiping on mascara, Avery had somehow completely destroyed the place. Toys and books were EVERYWHERE. As I looked more closely, though, I noticed the dog sniffing then licking up something. Upon closer observation, I distinguished it as some kind of beady goo*. As I looked around the house, I saw that it had collected in clumps all over the living room floor, spread out in the den, and took over the couch. What was this stuff? Immediately, I began looking at all the toys to determine the source. I threw the dogs outside so they'd stop licking what could have been something poisonous. I vacuumed it up as best that I could, but it was just one of those icky substances that refuses to be sucked up.

*I am fairly certain after talking it out that the goo came from the inside of Avery's diaper- like the absorbency beads or something, but since I put her in her crib an hour ago, I'm not going to find out if that's the case until she wakes.

So, in a nutshell, that has been my day...

Please tell me that your has been better. Happy Friday!

So these pics have nothing to do with the post, but they make me happy.

Puppies

Oma's linzer tarts

Would You Hold it Against Me?

2011-03-03T14:00:00.001-05:00

I have been meaning to bring up Britney Spears' single, “Hold it Against Me” since I first heard it on the radio. Upon first listen, I completely thought it was a joke, a skit for “Funny or Die,” or just some silly radio prank.

“If I said I want your body now,

Would you hold it against me?”

Seriously? When did horrific pick-up lines from the early 90's become fitting song lyrics to the teenage set?

“Cuz you feel like paradise,

And I need a vacation tonight...”

Awww- remember when she was just a little tyke?

Perhaps her next song will include lines such as, “Was your daddy a robber? Because he stole the stars from the skies and put them in your eyes,” “Your legs must be tired, because you've been running through my mind all day,” or the classic “Do you have a quarter? I want to call my mom and tell her I'm in love.”

Not that the kiddos listening to her albums will understand why one would need 25 cents to make a phone call...

In my mind this goes down as one of the cheesiest songs in history (but I know I'm forgetting plenty- so remind me of them in the comments).

And the worst crime of all is that I can't get the stupid song out of my head.

p.s. While we're on the musical lyrics' subject, "If you're too school for cool"? What, Pink, are you talking about?

Happy March!

2011-03-02T08:46:00.000-05:00

The view of a neighborhood house from out my car window. Don't worry- there were several other houses that still had Christmas decorations up as well. Are they late in taking them down, or super-early for next year?

Emmy's Beginnings

2011-02-28T21:40:00.001-05:00

Though I have some ideas about where I'd like to take this story, I'd like to hear from the people out there. What are your thoughts as to what happens with Emmy?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Never one for creating such abundant drama, the choice to act on her true feelings forged a milieu that was awkward and uncomfortable. Nevertheless, she continued on with her distressing monologue. “I... I just feel like it would,” she gulped, “uh, be better for BOTH of us if I, uh, was moved to a different classroom.” Mrs. Chester stared at her with squinting eyes. They crinkled unpleasantly as her thin lips smacked together deliberately. “What I mean is...” Emmy stammered as the older teacher leaned back against her desk, her arms crossed haughtily across her chest. Mrs. Chester had decided to show no mercy for Emmy.

Fresh out of the education department at Glenola college in upstate New York, Emmy had some definite beliefs about how a classroom should be run. Her position as a teacher's aide for Mrs. Lynlee Chester, however, illustrated the opposite of these contemporary philosophies. Stubborn and inflexible, Mrs. Chester insisted that an atmosphere of terror and the general unease of her students were a necessary component in their education. The eight pupils that comprised Mrs. Chester's seventh grade special education class took to this method by evading her questions and attempting to stay out of her line of vision as often as possible. Emmy tried to reassure the kids when working one on one with them, but the truth was that she was scared of Mrs. Chester as well. Emmy continued, “It's just, uh, not a good fit.”

“I see.” The older woman glared diabolically into her core, and Emmy's stomach seemed to be doing hurdles over her heart. “Did you speak to Mr. Bell yet?”

Breathing deeply to assuage her fidgety organs, Emmy nodded. “I spoke to the principal earlier. I just wanted to go over it with you.”

“Go over what? You've made your decision. See you in the hallway.” Mrs. Chester ushered her out the door with her acrid voice. Emmy stood in the empty corridor of Addams Middle School. It was good to be alone.

Downstairs was a bit more enlivened. The excitement of Friday afternoon created a rather jubilant mood among her coworkers, of which there were many. There were only 15 classes in this school, each with between six and eight students, but since each classroom was teeming with adults (teacher, assistant, aides), in addition to hallway administrators, there was a lot of staff, all of which had apparently convened in the lobby area of Addams. “So... did you talk to the demon lady?” Theresa had sidled up to her.

“Yeah. Shh- I'll tell you about it later.”

“I think people are going to find out about the transfer when you're assigned to another class on Monday. Come to happy hour at Ty's and we can chat.”

Emmy looked at her watch. “It's 3:00. Do you really think it's wise to begin drinking now?”

“Yes. Stop being so old.”

“Fine, but I'm leaving at a decent hour. I'm still in work clothes.”

Ty's was empty but for a couple of people from work perched on barstools and prattling animatedly to each other. The old tavern was dark and kind of musty. When Emmy breathed in through her nose, the odor of stale beer, dust, and french fries filled her nostrils. “Remind me to refrain from inhaling,” she remarked covertly to her friend. Pulling up stools to the mahogany bar, the girls ordered their drinks then turned toward one another.

“Okay.” Theresa said. “I'm ready.”

“You're ready? For what?”

“For you to tell me everything that happened upstairs. Did she yell? Did she breathe fire? You don't seem at all charred.” Her chubby fingers grabbed at Emmy's shirt, pretending to look for signs of burns on her skin.

“Oh, stop. It was fine. I just clearly explained that my pedagogical ideas were different than hers; that I needed to use this T.A. position as a learning experience that I can one day transfer into my own classroom.” Wistfully, Emmy thought about how these were the things she had wanted to say, had rehearsed in her head over and over, to Mrs. Chester.

“Right. Clear and simple. Did she take it well?” Theresa inquired.

“It was fine. Can we please talk about something else?” They both turned to accept the bottles of beer from the waitress. “I got this round,” Emmy said, pulling her purple wallet out of her purse and retrieving the cash. “You can get the next one.”

“Ah- so you are staying. I thought you were 'leaving at a decent hour.'”

“Yeah, well, I didn't realize how much I needed this until I got here. I'm gonna throw some songs on the juke box.” Emmy walked toward the front of the bar as a group of acquaintances from work came in the door. She smiled at the three guys, who offered her quick nods in greeting. Watching them approach Theresa's stool, she let a sigh of contentment escape her lips. If they stayed for a while, the conversation would surely turn around. She walked over to the group, exceedingly aware of her steps on the wood floor. They all turned as she moved in on their little circle. “Hey, what's up?”

“What did ya put in?” Pete asked, accusingly.

“I played all love songs. I thought that would be a good idea.” Everyone, except Pete, chuckled. Along with Mike, Pete was one of the gym teachers at Addams Middle School. Often he would take a situation way too seriously (such as this particular moment), but Emmy still liked him. He was sweet. She looked over the rest of crew: Theresa, of course, with her long brown hair, paunchy little belly, and warm, inviting smile; Mike and Pete, both fit, both wearing identical athletic pants that swished loudly every time they moved; and Paul- older, more experienced as a person. And seemingly knowledgable of everything before their occurrence.

On Day One

2011-02-25T14:13:00.000-05:00

“I bet this is what heaven looks like.”

The statement is received with a standard rolling of the eyes that I would expect from the boy sitting next to me. My nonsensical outburst is meant to sound sweet- childlike; however, I can tell that my literal-minded fiancé finds it extremely morbid. I look up again at the unusually violet sky, riddled with impossibly opaque puffs of white cotton. Unreal. This whole day has seemed different than most…a beginning.

Like any other Tuesday, I awoke to my clock radio belting out the sounds of the “70s, 80s, 90s, and today!” Gruesome. I flipped the knob to off, unconsciously swinging my bare toes onto the cold wood floor. The sudden departure from my cozy feather comforter sent a chill up to my earlobes. It was as though my feet had never before experienced a change in temperature. Eerie.

A mediocre day ensued, yet each experience- a dull “good morning” from an even duller coworker, the smell of my microwaved, “gourmet” lunch, even the spectacular view of the dumpster out my peephole of a window seemed, impossibly, new.

Even currently, as I peer out the passenger side of my fiancé’s Civic, at the smattering of shadows created by oversized and un-manicured pine trees, I sigh loudly. The boy turns to me with half a smile.

“Yeah, it’s probably something like this.”

All About Me

2011-02-24T17:58:00.001-05:00

Since I had a narcissistic need to blab on and on about myself for a bit, I have decided to add an “All About Me” tab to the blog (go ahead and click it- you won't regret it). Shortly thereafter, I added the “Short Stories” tab to re-record some of my more story-like posts (all have them have links back to the originals if you'd like to comment).

My problem is that there are three lonely tabs up there- what other pages should I add? I don't do reviews or giveaways, so I have no need to list those or to add a disclosure statement.

Suggestions?

Tantrums

2011-02-23T21:29:00.001-05:00

Circa July 2009- an indication of what was to be?

Tantrums are inevitable with any toddler. The frequency can differ, yes, but even the most well-behaved child on the planet will eventually break down into screeches and wails at times (usually somewhere public- you know, for giggles-sake).

My child will throw herself onto the floor shrieking when I dare to shut the refrigerator door, or (*gasp*) refuse to turn on Dora for her.

Overall, however, Avery has been on the agreeable end of the spectrum, often forgoing a sobbing fit for any distraction at all (My personal favorite? Animal crackers. Works every time).

Nonetheless, she has more recently begun to be rather, um, shall we say- petulant- in some situations.

Example #1: At a catered dinner with a large crowd at my in-laws abode, Avery grabbed the large plate of (red-sauce smothered) food that I had painstakingly cut up into tiny pieces, threw it onto the living-room floor, screamed “NO!” at the top of her lungs (just in case there was one person that wasn't turned around to look at this point), then proceed to stomp through it in anger.

Example #2: During the free-play time after a library program, Avery had accumulated several toys at her spot. She then decided that a stuffed animal (that I'm pretty sure a little boy had brought from home) would make an excellent addition to her collection. Stomping over toward the child like a snorting bull, Avery tried to grab Barney the Dinosaur out of his hands. He was older and stronger, though, so she couldn't grasp it. Yelling “SHARE!” (which she apparently thinks means, “Gimme all your stuff”) and then falling to the ground in a tearful rage, she caused such a commotion that all the other parents were staring at me. I choked out a quiet “sorry,” then slipped out.

Example #3: While grocery shopping, I made the mistake of wheeling my lovely child down the baby aisle to pick up some diapers. Whomever the diabolical barbarian is who designs the lane item displays is a complete jerk, because in order to get to said diapers, one must pass a throng of frivolous toys that appeal most to children who have been imprisoned in the front of a grocery cart for 45 minutes. Needless to say, Avery caused another scene, this time by pointing furiously and screaming “ELMO!” and crying when I sped past the Sesame Street block set as quickly as possible. The only thing that would calm her down was opening up the bag of goldfish crackers from the cart and allowing her to consume a good portion.

Is this an early showing of what the “terrible 2's” are going to be like?

Who, me?

Bloggy Block

2011-02-22T14:05:00.000-05:00

In an effort to replace yesterday's post with something a bit more up-beat, I have decided that I must write something today.

What I should write about remains the issue at hand.

Let's see- what did I do today? Ah, yes. Avery and I went to a mommy-and-me gymnastics class in a studio that is designed for toddlers to run around, jump on the trampolines, and play with the parachute.

Though it should be an amazing time for my little one, whose two besties are in the class with us, she choses instead to clam up, then scream and cry whenever the instructor comes near her. It's a thrill a minute.

Yesterday... let's see. Oh yeah, Kyle and I met some friends and ate our body weight in sushi. It wasn't pretty. We then went to the mall so that hubby could buy another suit. He likes to look debonaire, what can I say?

View from the back of the mall stroller: "Do not put child in bag." Is this really a problem?

Going to pick out suits with a toddler who all of a sudden has the energy level of an erupting volcano while hot saki is coursing through one's veins and causing severe exhaustion is torture. But he got a good deal- and that's what really matters.

Grief

2011-02-21T09:04:00.000-05:00

It has been surmised in the Kubler-Ross model that grief is shown in a progression of five stages: denial (“Everything is fine...”), anger (“How could this have happened? Who is to blame?”), bargaining (I will give anything for him to come back for just one more day!”), depression (“It is horrible that this happened- why bother with anything at this point?”), and, finally, acceptance (“What's done is done. I need to move on.”).

As I have experienced, however, this doesn't seem to be the case.

In the recent case of a family member's sudden death, each person grieved differently- from holding everything deep inside to keeping as busy as possible. The emotions that each individual had were so diverse: hopelessness, distress, anger, disbelief, compliance...

Set stages of grief were not involved as each person's personality is so different.

My point is that it's just so unclear how one supports those who are mourning, because the process is so diverse. Whereas some people just need to be alone, there are many who need the comfort of people around them often.

Do we honor a person's memory by participating in activities that had once made him happy?

Do we take time to consider how life will be so incredibly different now that he's gone?

Do we just... move on?

So I pose this question to my wonderful readers: how do you handle grief and sadness? How do you wish you handled it? What are your thoughts on supporting, comforting, and encouraging those who you love as they grieve?

I so look forward to your comments- I guess putting it into words is how I grieve.

In the News... Pennsylvania Teacher Natalie Munroe is Suspended for Writing a Personal Blog

2011-02-16T12:30:00.001-05:00

There have definitely been moments during my life that I've been frustrated by those around me, especially at work (where you are thrown into a situation with people who you didn't necessarily “choose” as friends), and most especially as a teacher. Kids do and say hurtful things sometimes.

It is frustrating when they don't retain simple information.

And why is it nearly impossible to turn in an assignment THE DAY IT'S DUE!

That said, having seen news accounts of Natalie Munroe, a Pennsylvania high school teacher who was suspended (with pay) for blog posts that revealed her true feelings for the students, parents, and administration of her school, I found myself asking, why did you become a teacher?

To read some of the press on Munroe, you can go here, here, or here.

Opposers of my opinion may argue that Munroe's blog was created as her online journal- a place to vent about her dissatisfaction (or contentment... she discussed her “cute, spring-inspired outfit” in one of her posts) with her job or life in general. Can the administration (those that she refers to as a**holes) really see fit to fire her based on her own anger and profanity-laden assertions?

Absolutely.

Though she didn't refer to any student by name, calling these children “dunderheads,” “complainers,” and “weird” can cause a massive dent in the esteem of the class as a whole, the exact opposite of what a teacher is supposedly setting out to do.

When a student does not turn in an assignment, perhaps one of the thoughts that goes through a teacher's mind is “lazy kid- just do the work!” In actuality, however, there may be many reasons why it is difficult for said student to turn in a project, essay, or homework. It is up to the trained adult in the situation to consider why.

Is there a pattern to this behavior?

Is there something going on at home?

Does this child have a special need for a different system?

Oftentimes, laziness has nothing to do with it at all.

I think all parents have the expectation that their children will be shown tolerance when at school all day, and that is why this story is so disturbing. Hopefully, the majority of people will realize that this is one person who does not represent the thoughts and feelings of all educators.

A Love Story for the Ages

2011-02-14T14:03:00.003-05:00

The most legendary love stories do their best to document a man and a woman's struggle to deal with a conflict or overcome a formidable tragedy. Romeo and Juliet had feuding families to handle (which didn't really work out for them). Rapunzel was stuck in a freaking tower. Princess Aurora had an evil witch's spell to contend with. I had to dog-sit on the first evening that Kyle asked me to accompany him to a concert.

Like most real love stories, ours doesn't pretend to be more than what it was. Meeting for the first time at a bar since seeing each other briefly as children, I noticed that he and I shared the same cell phone. We conversed for a moment or two about that coincidence, then went on our way.

After that, we saw each other more often, since we had mutual friends. After a couple of weeks, Kyle called. “I know it's last minute, but I just got two tickets to the Bruce Springsteen concert at Shea tomorrow night. I know you had said that you like music, so I was just wondering if you wanted to go. You know... with me.”

“I would love to! Oh wait- crap. I'm supposed to go over and feed my family friend's dog that night. What time?”

We went back and forth, trying to figure out how I could do both, but it was no use.

Either Lucky was going to starve, or The Boss was going to have one less fan that evening.

I regretfully hung up the telephone in the kitchen and frowned at my mom, who was wiping down the counter, pretending not to listen. “What happened?”

I relayed the sad story to her, and she nodded. “You know, if you drop your little sister off at the house to take care of the pup, I'll pick her up later on.”

“Do you think she'd do that?” I asked as excitedly as a 14-year old girl who'd just made JV cheerleading.

“Just tell her you'll give her 10 bucks. She's fifteen- do you really think she has other plans?”

Mom was right. Maggie eagerly accepted the offer to hang out at the Smith's house for a couple hours in exchange for enough cash to buy several packs of Topps trading cards (she was always a bit of a tomboy).

Now I only had to be concerned about the date itself:

What would we talk about? What were his intentions? Most importantly, what would I wear?

Fast forward to that sublime night, October 3, 2003... My memory is a little fuzzy (mostly due to the bottle of Captain Morgan that we were sharing prior to the concert), but I remember talking in the car without pause as we sat in two hours worth of traffic on the way into Shea Stadium, stopping at a pizza place for a emergency pit stop, burning a hole into the roof of his (brand new) car with a cigarette, turning around to kiss him during “Born to Run,” screaming, laughing, and dancing with the rest of the crazy fans, driving into the city to take a carriage ride through central park, and falling completely, ridiculously, stupidly in love.

So, there it is- a Valentine's love story. Though it lacks some of the obstacles and the intrigue that are present in some of the more renowned classics, ours is the greatest romance to me. I'm able to look back and BE in those moments that I consider some of the best in my life.

Love does not have to be difficult. Love does not have to forever be a compromise. And with real-life love, there needn't be any witches, trolls, or fairy godmothers.

And love, as I have come to find out, is beyond definition.

So, what is your love story? I'd love to know- either comment or share a link to a post about it!

What is Love?

2011-02-11T13:32:00.000-05:00

As that eminent day approaches, I scoured the internet in search of the various definitions of the word, in order to get a better idea:

“Love”

have a great affection or liking for (I have great affection for Taco Bell- but do I love it? )
to be enamored with (I am completely enamored by each actor on Modern Family- but is it love?)
a score of zero in tennis or squash (romantic- I know)
to get pleasure from (Oo-la-la)

Alright- perhaps these definitions weren't exactly what I was looking for. I'll just leave it up to the experts:

“One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: That word is love.” ~Sophocles
“We love because it's the only true adventure.” ~Nikki Giovanni
“Love is the master key that opens the gates of happiness.” ~Robert Mitchum
“Love makes your soul crawl out of its hiding place.” ~Zora Neale Hurston

Okay...

Since I'm still pretty unsure about the definition of what love actually is, I will pose this question to you:

What is love?

p.s.- Ever since I wrote the question I can't seem to get the car scene from “Night at the Roxbury out of my head.

p.p.s.- I just set up a facebook page for this here site. Don't forget to “like” me! Click the button on the right -->

An Important Read for Anyone Who's a Mom (or anyone who has ever wondered what we do all day)

2011-02-08T14:26:00.002-05:00

“What did you do today?”

It is a question that my husband usually asks when he gets home from work every evening. A question that I have to think hard about, trying to determine what I've accomplished in the past 9 hours.

“Well, I... uh, I ran some errands, did some laundry, you know...” I struggle to come up with an answer, yet I know I haven't had more then a few minutes of “down-time” throughout the day. What did I do? And why am I struggling to keep my eyes open at 9:30 pm?

I feel like I need to consider a typical day in my life to figure out what I am spending all my time doing. So, let's look at yesterday.

I woke up at 7 am (a luxury, I know, since I used to wake up for work at 5) to the dog standing on my chest, her hot, abominable breath in my face. Kyle and I threw the covers off, he fed the dogs, and I got the baby, who was singing (quite beautifully, may I say) in her crib. Little things, like changing her diaper, making her breakfast, bath, change clothes, brushing her teeth and hair, then getting myself together brought us to about...

9:15- Put on our outside gear and ran to the car. Drove to the gym and dropped Avery off at the nursery. Did a little cardio, some exercises, picked her up, and drove home. By this time it was...

11:15- Avery went down for a nap immediately. Thankfully she's a really good sleeper. I showered and got ready for the day, ate lunch, checked my email, made a dinner plan for the week, printed out the grocery list, looked through the coupons, cleaned off the kitchen counters, and folded some laundry. Just then, I heard Avery calling me from her room. “Mom!!!”

1:30- After a nice long nap, my little lady wanted some lunch. I made her a turkey a cheese sandwich. Instead of eating it herself, she decided to throw it to the dog, who promptly ingested the snack in one gulp. I cut up some leftover chicken. “No...” she said sweetly and pushed it away. I gave her some yogurt, which she ate half of, pouring the remainder on her shirt and pants. I changed her clothes.

3:00- We put coats and boots on again. I filled my purse up with various snacks, gave Avery a cup of milk, and dashed out to the car. I gave her the dollies that I had stuck under my arm on the way out, which made her giggle. We played some children's music and set off for Stop and Shop. It only took 15 minutes to get there (it's one mile away), so I considered myself ahead of the game. Though Avery wasn't a fan at first of being confined to the front of the grocery cart, I gave her some goldfish and she piped right down. We traversed the produce section, wandered the likes of every aisle, and scoured the shelves for the items on my list. Check out is always the most difficult, because it takes a while and Avery is not being entertained anymore. As per usual, I had to open up a box of Cheerios to distract her. She flung them at people as they walked by. I pretended not to notice.

4:45- We pulled up to our house, my head throbbing from listening to “Baby Beluga” for the eighth straight time. I set Avery up at the computer to play a game, then brought the seemingly endless amount of bags into the house, put them away, then fed the dogs.

5:30- I began preparing dinner for Avery (which I knew would be fruitless, considering the quantity of snacking she had done in the past few hours), who was now drawing on her easel in the other room. I sat her down to eat and sat down next to her at the table, breathing for what seemed like the first time since noon.

6:15- I turned on Dora for Avery, then sat down at the computer to write. A half hour later, Kyle walked in (I think he may have suspected that I had been sitting on the computer since that morning...). “Hey! Did you guys have a nice day?”

7:00- I began preparing dinner, Avery went to bed at 7:30 (hubby was nice enough to put her in), and we ate on the couch while watching the Superbowl Glee episode that was taped from the night before.

8:15- Kyle and I did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. The day was officially finished.

8:30- Kyle turned to me and asked, “So, what did you do today?”

I racked my brain. “I went grocery shopping.”

p.s. My friend recently sent me this forward, which prompted me to write this.

Click for a larger view

Adventure in the DR: Part III-B

2011-02-07T18:46:00.002-05:00

The Departure

~B~

With a crash that reverberated throughout the entire bus, the door slammed shut and I closed my eyes briefly to daydream about the wonderful familiarity of the home that I was returning to. Avery's big smile and genuine laugh, the smell of hot, cheesy pizza out of the oven, even the white blanket of snow that covered our front yard, begging to be played in...

These thoughts in my head were cut short, however, when I felt a bump and heard an entire bus full of people cry “Whoo!” in unison. Opening my eyes, I discovered the dirt road that we had travelled to get here lay before us.

“Everything okay?” I questioned to Kyle as he sat unusually upright next to me.

“Yeah.. it's, uh, fine. Maybe we shouldn't have chosen the front two seats for this excursion though.”

I scrambled in a feeble attempt at finding some sort of seatbelt.

“It's no use. I looked already,” he informed me.

“Oh. Okay. How long does this trip to the airport take again?”

He responded instantly, as if this were something that he, too, had been thinking about. “It's 35 miles. So with these tumultuous roads and at this rate of a few kilometers per hour, we should make it there by next week.”

“Great.”

I racked my brain for something else to discuss. “Do you think Avery will remember us?”

“I- oh crap...”

I looked forward through the dusty windshield. We approached another bus labeled Zip-Line Tours, which had no seats and everyone who stood inside the vehicle was holding on to leather loop-handles for dear life. We were so close to the tour bus in front of us that I was able to see the greenish skin tone of the majority of the passengers. For about a mile, we remained nearly attached to the back of it, and I was biting my lower lip so hard that I started to taste blood.

Releasing my eyes from the spectacle before me for a moment to glance over at the driver, I saw him holding not one cellphone, but two; one in each of his hands. He was driving the 40-passenger coach bus with his knee.

I smacked Kyle in the arm and motioned towered the man with my chin. “I should've known.” Just then the driver shifted gears and honked his horn. Our bus careened past the other and the transporters waved to each other. Ahh- it was nice that they were all such good buddies.

The entire trip to the airport involved choruses of screams from the folks who were also just trying to make it home alive in back of us, dodging the myriad burros that would suddenly cross our path, and suppressing the butterflies that had taken up residence in my stomach.

I rejoiced and everyone traveling with us clapped when we saw the sign for the aeropuerto. I felt as though we had all bonded through our common fear of a formidable death.

Breaking free of the confines of el autobus, Kyle and I ran over to the baggage compartment, but we were too late. One of the attendants from the airport had already grabbed our bags and was headed for the end of the long line where we would stand, a solid four feet away. Dropping the luggage, he stood leering at us with his hand out. Kyle reluctantly tipped him a few bucks and we took the handles up ourselves to take our place among the other cattle that were shoving their way toward the gate.

A mere 3 hours later (nursing a horrific stomach ache that was largely due to the scorchingly hot chicken sandwich that I had consumed while standing up at the food court), we stood in line outside our gate, ready to be escorted to the Jet Blue flight that would take us back home. After what seemed like countless hours of us standing there, we finally began to walk. We walked. And we walked. Then we walked a little more. Finally, in the distance, Kyle spotted our plane and pointed to the last aircraft on the tarmac. “Is that really it? Jeez...”

We finally made it, and as the entire plane full of people wiped the perspiration from their collective brow and climbed the staircase to sit in their airplane seats, which at this point all felt like first class to our sore tushies, I breathed a sigh of relief. We were almost home. Finally.

Landing, getting through JFK in one piece, and the drive back home all kind of blur together. What I remember most of all from our trip home was seeing Avery again after being away for a week. The joy was immeasurable, and I was so incredibly excited to get back into the “normal” routine with her. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing to be Mom again.

Just as long as Kyle promises to whip out the “It's my pleasure” line once in a while. I've grown very fond of it.

Adventure in the DR: Part III

2011-02-04T17:01:00.001-05:00

The Departure

~A~

Briefly escaping the ruthless north-eastern winter, with its treacherous and icy frigidity, was enough of a reason for this to be a superb getaway, but combined with fantastic weather, beautiful beaches, and 24-hour drink service, the overall experience was... perfect.

A picture that Kyle took of alcohol at one of the bars. I believe that it's because one of the bottles says "Bols." The maturity of the male species never ceases to amaze me.

Alas, it was time to leave and go back to where I was to be referred to as “MOM!!!” instead of “ma'am.”

Where I would be asked “What's for dinner?” as opposed to “What can I get for you?”

“Ugh- fine,” rather than “It's my pleasure.”

As we checked out and said adios to sun, sand, and CraigRuss, I turned and looked back at the grand lobby, with its gorgeous marble tiles, gilded birdcages, and cascading fountains. It would indeed be quite an adjustment to return to a household overcome with baby toys and dog hair...

On the left, food... On the right, a river that I almost fell in every night.

Gathering up our over-stuffed suitcases, we walked toward the bus that would serve as transportation for our journey back to the miniscule airport. Quizzically, I regarded the immensity of the shuttle. “How in the world is a vehicle this size going to fit down these narrow little streets?” I nervously giggled as I whispered to Kyle. He nodded-stunned and disturbed himself- in response. Recalling the bumpy and nauseating ride here, I chose two seats up front, where I could gaze out the windshield to try to avoid the inevitable motion sickness that I could feel rumbling about even before our drive began.

Tomorrow's installment: The Departure, ~B~

Adventure in the DR: Part Deux

2011-02-01T14:11:00.000-05:00

Burned

The first morning that I woke up in Punta Cana was bitter-sweet. Though I was excited to embark on the hotel's buffet breakfast, I couldn't help but acknowledge the pain that was beginning to befall the length of my right leg. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and peered at my calf, knee, and thigh; a racing stripe of bright red sunburn had appeared since yesterday. The good news was that I was able to see that sunscreen actually does work when applied to every inch of your body- just remember not to miss any spots...

Mr. Excellence

That day our party of four had the distinct opportunity to meet CraigRuss (I have no idea if that is his actual name, but this is what he became known as to us). Stumbling over on the beach, he laughed as he slurred, “I don't usually drink that much... but they just keep bringing us cocktail after cocktail... this bartender is CRAZY... where are you guys from?” After we told him, he exclaimed, “We live pretty close to yous guys too! When are you here 'til?” I hate this question, because it forces me to consider our time of departure. Anyway, did he think that if we'd be here a while maybe we can do lunch? We told him that we were leaving next Saturday. He nodded, then stared at us uncomfortably and walked away. This was not, however, our last encounter with CraigRuss.

Although the resort was rather large, we seemed to see CraigRuss (who didn't remember speaking to us on the beach, and just ignored us completely- fine by me) at every turn. No matter where we were sitting- pool, beach, restaurant, bar- he was just THERE.

One thing about this hotel (and probably many others) was that you had to get up pretty early to get the seats you wanted at the pool, so one of us would get up at 6 or 6:30 every morning to secure four lounge chairs under huts by our rooms. At around noon, Kyle and I were laying in the sun, drying off from a dip in the water when Mrs. CraigRuss began dragging her lounge chair toward the little hut that we'd secured 6 hours earlier. “Umm, excuse me, but we were using that...”

“Oh. Fine.” She made a face, dropped the chair she'd been scraping across the ground, and skulked away.

I made a decision not to ever move an inch away from the shade, lest she try to steal it away again.

As the days unfolded, I came to find out that she was a perfect counterpart to her husband.

The woman tried to steal my shade!

As evening approached a couple days later, the four of us compadres were enjoying a pre-dinner toddy and snack in the lounge by our room. The few others who assembled in the room were very quiet, and the atmosphere was calming and tranquil. That is until the arrival of CraigRuss.

The sound of his voice cut through the silence like a rusty hatched- booming, and yet a little whiny. His voice cracked several times as he screamed, “THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I PAYED FOR THIS VACATION? (apparently he didn't know about the 10% discount offered by American Express) HOW COME I CAN'T GET ON THE INTERNET? WHAT KIND OF PLACE IS THIS?” There were some muffled apologies from the concierge who was taking this verbal abuse from the insolent buffalo downstairs. “THAT'S IT- I WANT TO SPEAK TO THE MANAGER OF THIS OPERATION, AND NOT THE RESTAURANT MANAGER, EITHER. I WANT TO SPEAK TO... MR. EXCELLENCE HIMSELF!” (It is important to note that the name of the resort we were staying in was “The Excellence”).

We all looked at each other with wide eyes, then we started laughing. “Mr. Excellence? Really?”

The final installment of the CraigRuss saga came toward the end of our trip, as we were all, again, gathered in the lounge.

“This feels awesome,” Kyle stretched on the leather sofa, drink in hand. “The only thing that would make it better would be if CraigRuss were here.” We all giggled.

“Don't look now, but your prayers have been answered.”

In he strutted: short-sleeved button-down shirt, jeans, and no shoes. A picture of class.

Just then, the boys decided that they would be funny. Loudly, they conversed so CraigRuss could hear, “How's your WiFi been doing?”

“Surprisingly well. I can't believe I've been able to use my iPad down at the beach this whole time without any problems.”

I sunk down in the couch, hoping that it would swallow me whole.

“Yeah... It's amazing on an island such this that the internet is still so accessible.”
I truly wanted to die.

Hubby and I enjoying (yet another) cocktail

Another Snowstorm

Strangely enough, the news that broadcast into our room each morning was the local New York affiliate station, so we were able to see what was going on at home all the time (not that I wanted to, but Kyle refused to watch Saved by the Bell on TBS each morning while getting ready). The story came about the impending snow storm within a couple of days of our stay.

Now obsessively glued to the TV screen, Kyle was getting up-to-the-minute coverage of the storm by the minute, while the sun, and strawberry daiquiris, waited for us outside. “Come on! It doesn't even affect us!” I would whine, pulling him out the door.

As it turns out, I was kinda wrong (this happens, unfortunately, all too frequently).

The day before our traveling companions were set to leave (we were staying for a couple days after them), they checked their departure status online (since the internet worked so well, CraigRuss), only to discover that their flight had already been cancelled. Not awaiting further notice. Not delayed. Cancelled.

In all due fairness, this was not the worst place in the world to get stranded, however they had to even find out if there was “room at the inn,” so to speak.

As it turned out, they were able to remain in the hotel for the night, for an astronomical amount of money, and they were forced to change rooms. C'est la vie.

Who can be mad while sipping pina coladas at the beach, anyway?

It took us 15 minutes and 4 people to determine which was women's and which was men's

Coming soon, Part III: The Departure. How we survived, I'm not quite so sure.

The Dominican Republic: An Overview, Part I

2011-01-30T15:35:00.000-05:00

I have always promised myself that I would someday remember to keep a travel journal when I go away. Nothing fancy, just a paragraph or two to document the events that transpire during my time away from home; something to look back on in fondness and laughter, days and then years after the trip has taken place.

I recalled this vow that I had taken in my own mind as my husband and I touched down at JFK, worn and exhausted from our week-long vacation in the Dominican Republic.

Though my memories are already a bit hazy (it has been almost 16 hours since we got back), I will try to recall some of the things that went down during our trip. I will call it: What Happens in the DR stays in the DR, Unless there is Photo Documentation of Everything That Occurred AND You're Writing About it on a Publicly-Viewed Blog... Oh- and Nothing That Happened was Actually Bad enough to Keep From Anyone, Anyway

What? Too lengthy? I think it's just right.

Part I:

The Arrival

I arose from my slumber at 3:30 am to find Kyle already up- showered, dressed, and having a full breakfast in the kitchen. Not normal. When the car came to pick us up an hour later, he had prepared his anti-anxiety cocktail and expressed his concern about 18 different, yet equally unrealistic, scenarios. He's super-fun to travel with.

One hour and several car-sickness-induced dry heaves later, we met up with our friends at the airport, ready to board the Jet Blue flight to paradise. Everything went off without a hitch, and the nail marks on my skin from Kyle gripping my arm during take-off healed quite nicely.

The four of us traveled to our resort from the chaotic and congested DR airport in a shuttle, passing many a disease-ridden cow, wild horse (which, contrary to the song, just kind of stood in the middle of the road and ate garbage), and mopeds ridden by what I could only assume were suicidal lunatics with a penchant for speeding on uneven pavement. Additionally, we were privy to a native being escorted by the policia into a tiny station in cuffs. Whatever his crime, something tells me it didn't have anything to do with traffic laws. Apparently they don't have any there.

If you'll notice I'm still nice and pasty in this photo, thus proving that it was, in fact, the beginning of the vacay

The hotel was gorgeous- palm trees swayed in the warm breeze, dancing to the melody of waves crashing up against the shore... a vast difference from creepily naked branches that shudder in the cold and the sound of cars buzzing along the wet, snow-covered Expressway.

View of the pool outside our door. I know... I hate me too.

We spent the rest of our afternoon exploring our home for the next week, sitting on lounge chairs at the ocean, and drinking fun rum drinks with our feet in the sand.

You should have seen the elderly workers that they forced to shimmy up the swaying palm trees to retrieve these coconuts

Stay tuned for more installments (as I remember them) of our vacation...

Random Utterances and a Dazzling Button- All for You!

2011-01-20T11:17:00.000-05:00

There were two major bloggy (what? It's a word...) items that I have wanted to accomplish (and did!) recently.

First of all, I changed my blog's address (you can now see that when you go to dinnerwithkir.blogspot.com you are automatically redirected to random-utterances.com). At risk of sounding a bit like Dora, I did it, I did it, I did it! Hooray! I then changed the name of my blog to go with my new, beautiful address. I decided to go with “Random Utterances” since my posts no longer focus on meal plans and recipes, rather they take a more introspected look at the nonsensical lunacy that goes on in my brain. As I did this (and only cried twice), I felt like a computer programmer, with all the crazy lingo and acronyms that I was trying to decipher. But it's done now, and as long as I don't touch anything...

The second thing that I did was to make a button (over there ~>) for my site with its code underneath, so it is free for the taking!

All I can say is thank goodness for sites such as bloggingwithsuccess.net, musingsofahousewife.com, and any others that defined what a “C NAME” was for me, because I have truly never been so baffled as I have been for the last couple of days.

So, don't make all this work for naught; notice my new address- tell everyone you know how amazing it is! Grab my button to put on your blog, or print it out and tape it to your forehead (please don't forget to send pictures of that last one)!

Drop me a line and tell me about your adventures creating new bloggy (see?) items.

Both a Blessing and a Curse: Going Away AND Some Dinners that Incorporate the Good Stuff

2011-01-18T13:57:00.000-05:00

I hate to be “one of those people” who complains about something that is truly fantastic, but the fact that I'm going to be donning a bikini in less then a week is a very daunting notion.

Glorious azure skies, warm Caribbean air, salty sapphire waters... I look forward to every moment of my quickly-approaching vacation, and yet I can't help acknowledging my pasty winter skin and the “extra layer” that I'm holding on to, protecting me from an incredibly frigid winter in New York.

I, therefore, decided that over the course of this week I will try to incorporate as many “super-foods” as possible into my diet, including quinoa, kale, and kidney beans. I was motivated in part (okay, entirely) by an article in this month's issue of Real Simple magazine, entitled “The 30 Healthiest Foods... and how to Eat More of Them” (106).

Mmmm... edamame. I could get used to eating better!

Last night, for example, I whipped up the yogurt-marinated chicken with mushrooms and sweet potatoes. After consuming the delicious (and easy!) concoction, I actually felt really GOOD- and full!

Up for the remainder of the week? Roasted broccoli, salad with kidney beans, and Giada's turkey meatloaf tonight, tomorrow I'll be dusting off the slow cooker to make chicken adobo with bok choy, then chili-glazed pork with spinach salad and lentils on Thursday, and a meal of whole-grain pasta with sauteed chard and raisins on Friday. Saturday? I'm getting some much-deserved take-out; but don't worry- something light (you all looked very concerned).

The magazine also had some great ideas for smoothies, so I'm going to make the strawberry-flax one for a snack this week. We'll see how it goes (somehow I think it would be better if I put a little rum in it, but I think I'm getting a little ahead of myself).

So I'm off to go do some sit-ups in anticipation of next week's festivities. Wish me luck!

First Day

2011-01-07T12:34:00.003-05:00

Blog Dare: First day of high school

Close-up on a girl: blond hair, blue and frightened eyes, nervous grin. About five feet tall, small-boned (weak) frame, fourteen years old.

Pan out: a sea of teenagers, all of which walk hastily in groups of friends and other cohorts, talking excitedly about summer adventures spent vacationing in Europe, lazy days at the beach, and night-time keg parties at what's-his-name's place.

When the bus had pulled up to her new high school for the first time, it seemed surreal. Though she had passed the immense building a million times, she had never thought this day would actually come.

But here it was.

The girl looks up at her peers. How did they all get so tall? She decides that more milk was the only solution. Looking quizzically at the numbers emblazoned on the classroom doors, she quickens her pace. She wouldn't want to be tardy for class on the first day.

After climbing the stairs, then going back down again in a fruitless attempt to locate Global Studies I, she bumps into a tall, dark-haired girl with large, unblinking eyes and an out-going disposition that seems the exact opposite of our protagonist.

“Hi! I'm Jackie! Are you a new tenth grader too?”

“Umm, yeah. I'm Kirsten,” she says hesitantly to the new girl.

“I totally don't know my way around this place yet, but I'll help you out if you need it- you look a little lost.”

“Is it that obvious? I'm looking for room 223. Sorry, I don't recognize anyone right now and I just don't know where I'm going and...”

“Hey! Global? I'm going there too! I think it's up stairs!”

So the two girls, unmatched in appearance, stature, and personality, made their way back up the stairs and enter the history classroom just as the bell rings. The teacher slams the door.

“Take your seats immediately. I don't take well to late-comers, you should know that about me. We're here to learn about history, a history that is augmented exponentially with each passing day. It is vital that you come to class each day prepared to learn, to complete your readings, and to finish all homework and projects on time. Are there any questions at this juncture?” Barely pausing to catch his breath he goes on, “Great. Let's begin.”

Kirsten looked about at the other students scribbling furiously in their new notebooks, remembering instantly that she has yet to pull hers out of her backpack.

“Is there a problem?” Mr. H questions her as she unzips the bag and grabs the red spiral notebook out.

“Uh... no... I...umm...”

He promptly ignors her attempt at a response and continues on with his lecture.

Horrifying.

The remainder of the morning classes move more rapidly- math (where Kirsten forgets her scientific calculator at home and has to borrow from the teacher's supply), English (where she drops her text on the floor creating a booming slam, resulting in the stifled giggles of the other kids), then lunch.

Thankfully, most of her grade level were also in the cafeteria at this time. Recognizing Jackie right away, she exhales. “Hi. Is anyone sitting here?” Kirsten motions toward an empty seat at the table.

“No, go right ahead. Global was crazy, huh?”

“Yeah.” Kirsten sighs as she takes her seat next to her new friend.

“Mr. H seems like he's all business, but I heard he's only like that the first couple weeks, then he calms down a bit. I heard that from some buddies of mine that I know from theatre.”

“Oh- you're in the theatre arts program?”

“Well, not here... yet. But I do some community stuff where I met some people. You should join the Players Club here. I heard it's pretty great.”

“Cool. I think I will.”

The afternoon seems to fly by in a haze of Kirsten's clumsy blunders, strict teachers, and racing to classes. Though Jackie isn't in any more of her classes, Kirsten feels more confident in herself now that she's made a new friend.

When the day is over, she walks into her house with a bit more pep than she'd left with.

“So, how was your first day of school?” Her mom asked, smiling.

“Great,” Kirsten responded. “I'm going to be an actress.”

The First Day of Mommidom

2011-01-06T12:00:00.001-05:00

Blog Dare: The day I found out I was pregnant

“You really did it this time,” I stormed into the bedroom at 5:30 in the morning.

Kyle awoke with a start. “What? What'd I do?”

I couldn't stifle the giggles that erupted as I tried to maintain a serious disposition.

“I'm pregnant!” I jumped up and down, crying and laughing and blubbering. He popped out of bed excitedly, and I grabbed the EPT from the bathroom for proof. “See!”

The date that stands out in my mind (though I could definitely be wrong, “mommy-brain,” you know) is September 9, 2008... a few days after my 28^th birthday and the first day of school. A few days prior, I had taken a pregnancy test, the results of which were negative, but I knew something was up. I felt... different.

Later that afternoon when I returned home from work, I called the obstetrician's office to set up an appointment. “I have to come in to see the doctor. I'm... pregnant!”

The secretary did not seem as excited. “Okay. We typically don't see pregnant patients for about ten weeks. How's November for you?”

I stared, dumbfounded, at the receiver. November? “That's the earliest she can see me?” I inquired.

The remainder of the conversation was a complete blur, if a little disappointing. For some reason I figured that everyone would be as excited as my husband and I, but that was not the case.

Thankfully, this incident seemed pretty isolated; as more and more people found out, I got plenty of hugs, kisses, and pats on the belly (which is very strange early on- “Umm, that's just my regular stomach, please stop touching me...”)

Though the exact date may not be as clear, the events of that day are etched into my memory, much like the events that have transpired since my little Avery has been with us!

Within the Archive that is my Brain

2011-01-05T11:01:00.000-05:00

Blog Dare: What first prompted you to blog?

Blogging is a documentation of the goings-on in my life; I am able to look back, much like a diary, at the thoughts I was experiencing at different points during my time writing.

It also allows me to post photos of some of the things that I have found important during certain moments- notice, if you will, the quantity of pictures that show my daughter's smiling face!

Blogging is also an outlet for me; a place where I can write anything I please, and gain ideas to expand upon at a later time if I so wish. It lets me see what works and what doesn't- the varieties of writing that audiences respond to, and the types that should be banished to the world of dissolution.

It tells me, through your comments and personal statistics, what you, the reader, enjoy. So, keep the comments coming- it limitlessly fuels my passion!

A Habit

2011-01-04T13:43:00.000-05:00

Most of us are creatures of habit in some way: we ALWAYS have a cup (or nine) of coffee each morning, or we have to listen to the same fuzzy radio station in the car, or perhaps dinner just isn't the same without ice cream at the end. The point is, the majority of people have a few things that they HAVE to do in order for the universe to be aligned and the day to go smoothly.

For me, this “habit” is making the bed.

As my husband has proclaimed (and an argument that I've heard before- usually from a guy), “What's the point of tidying up the sheets, smoothing out the comforter, and placing the shams neatly at the headboard if it's only going to be messed up again that night?” Well, I DO have my reasons.

First of all, when I walk into the bedroom and pillows cover the floor, a blanket is crumpled up in the corner, and the quilt clings to a corner of the mattress for dear life, the entire room looks messy and small. I have to hop from the entryway to the closet door just to get to my jeans and sweater.

Second, I am an adult. My husband is an adult. We live in a house. I just feel that this is one of the things that we can do to show how responsible we've become. “Look Ma, we're all growned up!”

Additionally, we have a child who, at her tender age, is extremely impressionable. How else can we show her that it is important to be neurotic enough to have your entire day shaped by a rather menial detail.

So, that leads me to the question, what are some of the daily habits that you can't live without?

New Year's Resolution 2011

2010-12-30T08:13:00.001-05:00

In an effort to drop the 4 pounds acquired during the holiday season, my New Year's resolution this year is to eat healthier, go to the gym more often, and to consider doing a sit-up or two every once in a while. But, since I know it is impractical to think that this is something that I can stick to for a long period of time (how often can one eat baked chicken and quinoa for dinner?), I at least vow to be unoffensive when I show up at the beach on vacation this year.

I have found that dropping a few pounds is so much easier when one is working. What is packed for lunch is what you're eating. Compulsory self-control. Some dry Fiber One cereal and an apple? Well, if it's the only thing available... Three crackers and a box of raisins? Okay, better than nothing.

Being at home, surrounded by temptation, is a dieter's nightmare. How can one restrict the intake of calories when a bag of leftover Christmas cookies calls out from inside the cabinet?

So, maybe the solution is to be out of the house more often. Pack a lunch consisting of six almonds and a bottle of water, get in the car, and go. Anywhere. The key? Don't stop at the drive thru for a chocolate shake.

So, it's been settled. My new New Year's resolution: participate in things that draw me out of the house as often as possible, even if that means applying a modicum of willpower to my daily actions.

Ugh, my stomach is growling already.

Hosting For Dummies

2010-12-07T16:45:00.000-05:00

My husband and I began a tradition of hosting Christmas day at our house a few years back, and couldn't be happier- we can eat (a ton), drink (a boat-load), and be merry (woo-hoo!) all within the confines of our own abode.

Everybody is gathered for Christmas day fun!

Avery, as well as any as-yet-unborn children we may have, doesn't have to leave Santa's fare to go off to Aunt Suzy-Q's house, we don't have to worry about driving after four (teen) glasses of eggnog, and both Kyle and I love hosting.

The problem is, we would also like to attend our own party, and not be stuck in the kitchen the whole time. So, the solution: come up with a menu that we can make ahead, find food that is quick to cook, or tell people to bring something. We do all three.

My momma flecked by my aunts in their red ensembles

We usually have a big crowd, so we'll throw a turkey in the oven in the morning, Kyle makes a filet (which is nice and quick), and we have a pasta dish. Then comes the sides.

Like I said, everyone usually brings a little something- creamed spinach, stuffing, cranberry relish, green beans, salad, etc. (I'm currently drooling).

I make an easy, yet delicious mashed potato dish that requires very minimal effort. There is actually no peeling involved! You can find the recipe here.

Santa baby and I- circa 2009

I'm so happy that I have family and friends who love to come and play with us on this fun evening!

Look at all that growing she's done!

What's in a Name?

2010-12-01T08:42:00.001-05:00

The events in our lives change us drastically, as people, from one moment to the other, so it is no surprise that my blog and its contents have been modified since it began in March. I began writing it as an outlet to record the recipes that I was using from week-to-week, hence the name “Dinner With Kir”- me being the “Kir” that is referenced, and “dinner” being the food that I was making each night.

Each time I posted the recipe links, however, I noticed that my real joy came from writing the short, journal-like anecdotes that preceded my dinner plan.

After a short while, I began writing fewer dinner plans and extending the anecdotes to be full posts. So, that's it. My blog is still entitled “Dinner With Kir”- the “Kir” still is me, but “dinner” references the time spent in the kitchen chatting!

I would love to hear the story behind your blog's name... let me know with a comment!

Where Did Thanksgiving Go?

2010-11-24T12:03:00.001-05:00

The evenings have grown so much longer as this winter season comes to a pinnacle, and at 4:30 pm I drive through my suburban neighborhood with my headlights gleaming. I look around me to spy the twinkling Christmas lights that have begun springing up at each of the houses I come to pass. But wait, isn't it still November?

In recent years it seems as though the joyous holiday of Thanksgiving has taken a backseat to the impending holiday season. Pumpkins and gourds are thrown away just after Halloween, and are replaced by blow-up Santas and lines of glowing reindeer on the neighboring lawns surrounding our house. On this holiday that celebrates our family, friends, and an abundant feast, however, I think it's important to take a moment (or several moments, perhaps) to consider Thanksgiving for what it is, as opposed to being so worked up about what is to come next month- and, for that matter, the following day.

Believe me, it may sound like it, but I'm no Scrooge. I LOVE the Christmas season: the music, decorations, cookie-making, even the hustle and bustle. To hold out on the celebration, however, is to create even more wonderful anticipation for the event.

To consider such a remarkable holiday as Thanksgiving (or, not consider it at all) to be a part of Christmas is to undervalue its importance as an individual day to recognize the things that we are the most thankful for.

I am thankful for my family: my mom, dad, and sister; in-laws who are wonderful (rare, I know); a phenomenal husband whom I adore, a beautiful and bright daughter, my awesome extended family who, though I may not get to see often enough, always put a smile on my face.

I am thankful for my friends: those with whom I've been close to since we were young; my buddies from high school; those I met at college and beyond.

I am thankful for the things that are represented by the bountiful harvest: the food that we are able to eat every day, our home, our health, and so many of the “things” that I tend to take advantage of having.

So, as I get to my own home, still bedecked by corn stalks and cornucopias, I realize that perhaps I am not “behind the times,” just being thankful in the moment.

Do Not Try This at Home

2010-11-18T11:54:00.000-05:00

It's about time that I fill you in on some of the recipes that I have tried lately, so you can have an idea what to have (or not have- as evidenced by a rather strange concoction from the other day) for dinner.

Let's go with some of the winners first:

Looking for something light and simple to put together? The other night we had lemony chicken Caesar salad for dinner with some soup on the side. Though Caesar dressing is usually chock-full of fattening ingredients, when you make it yourself, you can control what goes into it. For example, I used a light mayo instead of the full-fat variety, and only used about half the recommended dressing for the finished product. Additionally, I decided to forgo the croutons in lieu of a slice of toasted french bread that could either be crumbled on top of the salad or dipped in the soup!
One of the wonderful things about autumn is the plethora of fall vegetables that line the shelves of the produce department, the flavors of which can comfort and warm you. That is why on Sunday I made pumpkin lasagna, testing out a new recipe from Robert Irvine. The final product came out really delicious (I loved the combination with the spicy sausage!), but the left-overs (of which there were A LOT) were kind of mushy- not very appealing.
Another good one was the turkey-sweet potato shepherd's pie that I made last night. It was different, but good. Although I was hesitant to add the orange zest to the potatoes for fear that they would become too citrusy, the the flavors were actually really good together.

… and the big, fat loser:

Okay now for the one you've been waiting for, the one that I will NEVER make again, orange-glazed chicken with pears. I have included the link because you never know if some readers are masochists who actually want to try this atrocity. The white vinegar, the soy sauce, the ridiculous amount of sugar- it was like a joke. Ugh! And it had sounded so good... Oh, well.

So, good luck to you all with your cooking adventures this week- and don't forget to drop me a line if you've tried any of these or are planning on it!

Saying Goodbye is Sometimes the Hardest Thing to Do (especially when it comes to candy)

2010-11-13T11:38:00.001-05:00

Today was a sad day.

Today I threw out the remaining Halloween candy that has been calling to me from the pantry for the last two weeks. I covered it up in the garbage can with old paper towels and yucky trash, lest I get a major hankering and want to go in after it.

You may want to take a moment to mourn this chocolatey loss. I do need to move on, however: there are, as they say, other peanut butter cups in the sea.

The time for eating delectable treats at 8 am is behind me, at least until Christmas rolls around, with its goodies tucked away in my stocking...

Those thoughts should keep me satiated for the time being.

Treats of the Season

2010-11-10T10:36:00.000-05:00

It's important, as I mourn the loss of summer's long, hot days (and cute sundresses), to recall the gratifying and wonderful goodies that the cool days of autumn and winter bring...

The feel of being snuggled up in a yummy cashmere sweater
The soft whisper of the fire as it warms my backside, and the illumination the embers create- dancing on the hearth (better than fireflies)
As the world falls into an earlier evening, cocktail time can begin sooner (hey, as long as it's dark out...)
The first snowfall that sticks (not the twelfth, but the first.)
The smell of fresh pine from the Christmas tree and the wrapped up presents underneath it (and shaking them to guess the contents)
As long as I'm all bundled up, I may as well partake in that extra piece of pumpkin pie a la mode. Mmm.

What are some of your favorite treats during these fall and winter months?

In Your Extra Time

2010-11-07T12:52:00.000-05:00

The brooding, bitter winter lay before us all, with its icy winds and biting temperatures that nip at our faces, no matter the amount of wool that we have wrapped around our heads. We are, however, recompensed with an extra hour, with which to... do what?

What are some of the things that I plan to do during this time of “falling back”?

blog
check my email 47 times
update my facebook status every 10 minutes
complete the crossword puzzle (with help)
attach the completed crossword to the refrigerator door
read the most current issue of “Us Weekly”

Hopefully I will be able to finish all that I've set out to do during my extra hour.

So, I ask, what are your plans during YOUR extra hour? How do you plan on spending this extra time that you've been given?

Wordless Wednesday- Jailtime

2010-11-03T15:37:00.000-04:00

I *wish* I had one of these at home...

A Beginning

2010-11-02T14:06:00.000-04:00

The drive was long and monotonous, but I was giddy to begin a completely new experience. A completely new life.

Five hours after we had loaded up the Mitsubishi with all my important possessions, we pulled up to the college dormitory that I would be calling “home” for the next two semesters. The day was warm and clear (eventually I would come to the realization that this was a rarity in this snow-belt upstate town) and the gentle wind blew through the leaves, the likes of which danced on the branches in response.

The other freshmen, walking anxiously along the campus sidewalks, had that exact same expression of excited trepidation on their faces. My mom parked the car next to the prodigious building where I needed to sign in and my sister and I each grabbed a suitcase from the over-stuffed the trunk.

After taking care of the necessary paperwork, we walked over to the dorm elevator. Stopping on the sixth floor, I walked with anxiety toward my new abode. Was my roommate there already? What was she like? Would we share clothes and stay up late at night to talk about boys? Peering my head in, I saw two empty beds, a couple of dressers, and a pair of identical desks. I let out the breath that I hadn't realized had been trapped in my lungs since the elevator. No one else had yet arrived.

After setting some things up, making the bed, and hanging up some of my clothes in the tiny closet, it was time for my family to leave... I was to be on my own.

We traveled down the elevator and over to the car, where we said our goodbyes. I hugged my mom and sister and promised to call. They honked the horn as they backed out of the lot and I laughed and waved goodbye. The car got smaller and smaller until they rounded the corner and was gone.

The reality was sinking in: I was finally an independent woman! I turned around and took a few steps toward the college that lay before me. And I cried.

Halloween Festivities

2010-11-01T22:23:00.000-04:00

So, I just woke Avery up after she had herself a 3 hour nap, probably due to her extreme exhaustion that stemmed from a holiday weekend chock full of candy AND craziness!

I think the scariest thing that befell our family this Sunday happened to occur when we ventured to the nearby village, where they held a holiday “festival” and the kids were encouraged to trick-or-treat at the various stores.

There were upwards of a million people there... and Avery was not happy to be a part of the festivities.

Let us begin with the walk there. We are not going to comment on the wedge-heeled boots I decided to wear (but they were so cute with my outfit!) or the fact that we had to hike 27 miles to get to our destination from the parking spot- no. I think it best to focus on the fact that (from the very beginning) we were nearly run over by 4 seven-year-olds, each with his very own Spider Man costume, ready to either save the day or run over unsuspecting toddlers that dared to stand on the sidewalk.

Within moments the baby started screaming in fear, mostly because of the gentleman dressed up in the Stony Brook University's mascot uniform: the seawolf. The guy was obviously trying to be nice- he waved and laughed- but when he smiled and a hundred sharp fangs glistened in the sunlight, Avery screamed and ran toward the nearest shop.

That was the first of the fearful experiences of the day.

Shortly afterward, Kyle walked with her into Godiva (where I was sure there would be GREAT trick-or-teat candy!). Within moments, he walked out carrying a screaming child in his arms (and no candy).

“She saw Michael Meyers”

“Excuse me?”

“You know- from 'Halloween'? She saw Michael Meyers, and she's not happy.”

After that fiasco, we began walking back. This whole festival was not turning out as I had planned. Kyle let her walk around on her own as we got to the village center, but I trudged onward. I noticed within seconds that they were both right next to me again, Avery in Kyle's arms.

“Uh...” Kyle motioned toward Avery's little feet.

“What? Wait, where's her...”

Gone. One of her little orange crocks that I had bought specifically for this duck costume was... gone.

“It's, uh, down the drain.”

Sure enough, when I looked down the drain, there was her little shoe: staring up at me. Mocking me. Bastard.

New Blog! The Review Revue

2010-10-29T11:48:00.000-04:00

In an effort to differentiate between the reviews that I do (hopefully for new products soon in addition to books) and other writing, I have decided to begin a new blog, The Review Revue, which when said a couple times in a row makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.

Thank you so much if you visit this blog every once in a while, follow me, or are stopping by today to say hello- your support is very much appreciated!

I would LOVE for you to take a look at The Review Revue if you get a chance. A follow would be extra special (since I have 3 thus far and one of them is myself) and comments are always a wonderful treat!

Shutterfly- the place to go for holiday cards!

2010-10-28T10:55:00.000-04:00

It's that time of year again! Hard to believe that the summer is so far behind us now, and we're looking toward the holiday season already (especially with the temperatures here in New York soaring at over 70 degrees- sunbathing weather, perhaps?).

As a mom, however, I value the importance of staying on top of things- otherwise I get completely flustered at the mere mention of jingle bells!

So, I'm going to begin my Christmas shopping now and start the process of creating the perfect holiday cards to send out to everyone (I mean, otherwise, how are they going to know that I have the cutest child ever?). Shutterfly has a great selection of holiday cards at a reasonable price. I used them last year and they came out professionally and quickly (plus, it was super-easy to do). I think I'm going to go with the "Modern Merry Squares" this year- they are very contemporary, and there's space for 2 photos, so my dogs can dress up as Santa's little helpers for one of the pics (as though they would actually stay long enough in a costume for me to snap their picture). What's your fave?

My pic pick

While browsing around Shutterfly's website, I also saw the selection of Christmas party invitations, which completely made me want to host a get-together this season... so cute! Also a really nice idea? The Christmas gift tags, which make gifts look complete!

I know that there are a lot of options out there, but Shutterfly is a great one!

Wordless Wednesday- Clone

2010-10-27T09:23:00.001-04:00

Summer, '81

Summer '10

1981- Kirsten at 22 months

2010- Avery at 15 months

For all of you who say she looks nothing like me...