Long time, no writing. Kids are on summer break now. Little guys are in their 2nd week of camp---both have already caused trouble. I've been talked to by all counselors involved. Big boys are both home acting like they are college kids. They sleep late...walk around the house shirtless, play a lot of basketball during the day (and Xbox) and are playing travel baseball so that consumes our evenings. All of the gardening I did a few weeks ago is starting to bloom and is looking pretty decent, if I say so myself. My perennials, not so much, however. I need to try and keep them going so they will return next year. (If I have kept my kids alive for this long, how hard can it be to keep some flowers and plants going??) I have not been in the office at work in probably about 6 weeks now...been taking care of things from home. And, I have 13 days until I get to drive!!!!!!!!!!
So, Simon, my attention hog, was causing some major issues at camp. Well, not major in the sense that he was hurting anyone or being mean; he just wasn't the center of attention as he likes, and so, in true Simon fashion, he caused trouble in order to receive it. There has been a threat of him not being allowed to go on any more field trips. Hopefully, since things are on the upswing, tomorrow's field trip will go well, and he'll be back in his counselors good graces. Zion has found himself a girlfriend...a female version of himself. She loves Pokemon and they share lovely conversation and are considering trading cards. Now, if Zion would just get into the pool and put his head under water, maybe he would impress her enough to get that trade done. The ball is in his court. (Or mine...as that kid is going to learn to swim whether he likes it or not.)
Andrew and Issac seem to think they are rock stars and that sleeping in all morning is the way to go. Really? Issac is more motivated to get outside and play basketball. Andrew looks at our wall calendar and if he sees ANYTHING on his schedule, the prince must spend the day resting in order to get ready for whatever activity he sees; whether that be a baseball game or a 30 minute Haftorah lesson. He has also informed me he "needs" a new wardrobe. He wants "Jordan shirts" and new jeans. I have no idea what prompted this, but he stands in front of the calendar and looks for days with nothing on the schedule and asks if we can "pencil in" shopping for the said wardrobe. I told him the Nordstrom Anniversary sale starts in a few weeks and maybe then we can look for the "Jordan shirts". I have a hard time believing this boy of mine is going to actually going to wear real clothes to school and not his usual Adidas pants and sports t-shirts everyday, but, I'm open to buying a few new things.
Speaking of Jordan, my youngest brother, he got engaged last week!!!!!!!! We are all super excited and are looking forward to the upcoming wedding. We all love Jenna and the boys are excited for a new Aunt. This is a good thing. See, Jenna's parents have invited us over for a BBQ in a couple of weeks. And, while my boys always behave better with other people and at other people's homes, this will be something I can hold over their heads while at the BBQ.
My sister, Tessi, got a promotion and is now moving to Nashville to open up a new Nordstrom there. Awesome opportunity and way impressive that she is moving up the ladder there so quickly. She leaves soon though, which is a bummer. My mom is going to take at least a couple of the boys in August to go visit her, and Steve and I and our best friends are heading down for a long weekend in September! (anyone want to watch the boys for that weekend????)
We are heading to Cooperstown, NY in early August for Andrew's baseball tournament. This should be quite the roadtrip. It is supposed to be a great time and then after that, we head to NYC to go see my brother, Lance, and sister in law, Roya for a weekend! Issac is desperate to go see a Yankees game, but they charge a small fortune to buy tickets and since we'd have to sell a kid in order for us to all go, we have nixed that plan.
And now, a PSA. (no one asked for one, but this is my blog, and I can write what I want) People should be aware that Karma does, in fact, exist. When you live a dishonest life, cheat people, lie and scheme, you will get what you deserve. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually, you are going to get what is coming to you. When you choose to not play fairly, you will win a few battles. Remember this: you WILL NOT win the war. When you weave a web of lies, eventually, you will get so caught up in them, there will be no way out. Your true colors will come shining thru. People will see you for who you really are. It's essential to tell the truth at all times. This will reduce life's pain. Lying distorts reality. All forms of distorted thinking must be corrected. And, indeed they will be.
Oh, how I am looking forward to July 13th. :o)
I hope everyone has a safe, fun filled, 4th of July weekend! xoxo
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
3 Hours: A Very Short Relationship
I am sure I will get reamed out for writing this, but it was just too insane not to.
I have taken to gardening over the last few weeks. It's given me something to do while on hiatus from my regular life. It's been a lot of hard work, but so far, I am happy with what I have accomplished. Hopefully, we'll see good results throughout the summer. In any event, I decided yesterday while out running errands with my sister, Tessi, to buy some solar lights to line the flower beds along our driveway. When we got back to the house, Tessi put the lights together and I installed all of them.
Fast forward about three hours. Steve left to drop Issac off at his baseball game. Tessi, her boyfriend Mac, Simon and I were sitting on the couch. I heard someone come thru the front door but never saw anyone. Then, Steve came thru the garage door. I asked him who came thru the front door.
"Zion did."
"Why did he come thru the front door?"
"Because he didn't want to hear you scream at me."
"Um, why would I scream at you?"
"Because I drove over and broke 2 of the solar lights."
The lights weren't even in the ground for a day and already 2 are gone. I went ballistic, and I think I was pretty justified in doing so. Steve didn't agree with my feelings. He seems to think that if he buys more, that will just fix the problem. A quick solution-yes but it doesn't change the fact that he didn't seem to care about what he did. He apologized but in a defensive way....it was in no way sincere. Maybe I'm just overly sensitive and a little cabin crazy (this is where you all tilt your head and do the sympathetic nod at me) but I mean, come on! He knew I had just installed them!!!!!!!!! He also said that my car and Tessi's were in the driveway and he had to maneuver around them. Really? How about asking someone to move a car? (And he parked my car where it is, because we all know, sure as shit, I didn't leave it where it is.)
I guess I just feel as though I don't have much to show for what I've done over the last 5 months and 2 days. (That is correct folks. I have a mere 28 more days until I drive.) I was feeling really good about what I did with the planting and the front of the house. (Granted, we really need the garage painted and a new front door, but humor me.) I just felt pretty crushed, kinda like the solar lights, about what had happened. Now, there is an uneven amount on each side and I have to pull them all out and start again. I mean, what else do I really have to be doing? So, as far as time goes, it's not that big of a deal. But, it kinda is. This is why we can't have nice things I guess.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Anti-Social Work Degree
For years, my mother has had no idea what I got my college degree in. She keeps thinking I got a degree in Social Work. In reality, I majored in Sociology with a minor in Psychology. What one does with such a degree beats the crap out of me. I have no idea. Other than framing it and hanging it on a wall, which I have not done, I truly have clue what to do with a Sociology degree. My reasoning for this major? It was the fastest way to graduate. Originally, I wanted to be a teacher. But dealing with other people's kids all day everyday was not my cup of tea. Hell, there are days I don't want to deal with my own kids. Moreso, I found a professor in the Sociology department whom I adored. Professor Stern, may he rest in peace, was my favorite professor/teacher of all time. When I realized I could take all of his courses and graduate, I jumped on that bandwagon. If I could've gotten a degree in anti-social work, that would've been the ultimate. I am not a people person. I'm not a fan of people. People are just not my thing.
I am not sure how my mom could think I would get a degree in Social Work. That would require me "feeling" for people and wanting to help with their problems. Trust me, I have enough of my own problems. To take on other people's problems would open a whole other can of worms. Not that I don't like hearing stories of others lives...but moreso in a gossipy way. If I really had to come up with solutions or plans to try and make things better, I'm not sure how well it would work.
I am not a hermit who sits in my house with the blinds drawn shut. I love to people watch. I love to eavesdrop on other people's conversations. But, that is where it ends. I like to just sit and mind my own business and just listen. I am not outgoing. I went away my first year of college with no friends. I don't know what I was thinking by going off somewhere I really knew no one. It wasn't part of my personality to do something like that. I wasn't the kind of person who would just put myself out there and introduce myself to everyone in my dorm. I was miserable and depressed for the first three months. I watched a TON of television. Wings reruns on USA became my go to show. But, at 18, it's hard to know who you are. I think people spend a lot of their lives trying to figure out who they are. And I certainly didn't know who I was. Today, at 35, I have a better idea, but I am always evolving.
What I do know is this: I am not a people person and I probably never will be. I didn't enjoy school....except for the classes I took with Dr. Stern. The man had the cleanest hands I have ever seen on a man and every year, he'd order his new "dungarees" from L.L. Bean. The majority of his Sociology classes revolved around the Syndicate. I loved getting to study the mob everyday. The hardest class I took with him was International Drug Trade. Monday nights, for 3 hours, I would sit and try to follow all the families involved and how they transported everything....it really was rather difficult. He definitely had nothing to do with Social Work.....his answer to people's problems were to sit around and smoke pot while his kids were asleep in the next room.
I would love to take classes for fun. To listen and learn would be great. But I don't want to write any papers and I don't want to take any tests. But, going back to school would require me to be around people, and well, let's face it. It's just not my thing. People start asking questions and wanting to know why you are there and what do you hope to get out of it and where are you from and blah blah. No thanks.
I am not sure how my mom could think I would get a degree in Social Work. That would require me "feeling" for people and wanting to help with their problems. Trust me, I have enough of my own problems. To take on other people's problems would open a whole other can of worms. Not that I don't like hearing stories of others lives...but moreso in a gossipy way. If I really had to come up with solutions or plans to try and make things better, I'm not sure how well it would work.
I am not a hermit who sits in my house with the blinds drawn shut. I love to people watch. I love to eavesdrop on other people's conversations. But, that is where it ends. I like to just sit and mind my own business and just listen. I am not outgoing. I went away my first year of college with no friends. I don't know what I was thinking by going off somewhere I really knew no one. It wasn't part of my personality to do something like that. I wasn't the kind of person who would just put myself out there and introduce myself to everyone in my dorm. I was miserable and depressed for the first three months. I watched a TON of television. Wings reruns on USA became my go to show. But, at 18, it's hard to know who you are. I think people spend a lot of their lives trying to figure out who they are. And I certainly didn't know who I was. Today, at 35, I have a better idea, but I am always evolving.
What I do know is this: I am not a people person and I probably never will be. I didn't enjoy school....except for the classes I took with Dr. Stern. The man had the cleanest hands I have ever seen on a man and every year, he'd order his new "dungarees" from L.L. Bean. The majority of his Sociology classes revolved around the Syndicate. I loved getting to study the mob everyday. The hardest class I took with him was International Drug Trade. Monday nights, for 3 hours, I would sit and try to follow all the families involved and how they transported everything....it really was rather difficult. He definitely had nothing to do with Social Work.....his answer to people's problems were to sit around and smoke pot while his kids were asleep in the next room.
I would love to take classes for fun. To listen and learn would be great. But I don't want to write any papers and I don't want to take any tests. But, going back to school would require me to be around people, and well, let's face it. It's just not my thing. People start asking questions and wanting to know why you are there and what do you hope to get out of it and where are you from and blah blah. No thanks.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Yet Another ER Visit
We all know I am not mother of the year. I lose my chance at this award each year by no later than January 3rd. But, what I did yesterday takes the cake. I have never caused one of my children such harm that an ER visit was necessary; that was until yesterday. I will back track. Two months ago, I allowed Simon and Issac to get their ears pierced. Issac had been asking for some time, and Simon joined the band wagon and they caught me on a good day, so I said ok. Off to Claire's Boutique we went. What used to cost $5 to pierce both ears now costs over $30 and that was for ONE EAR! The boys have been so good about cleaning their ears with the "special" Claire's solution and twisting the earrings that I never would have imagined what happened.
As you may know, based on yesterday's blog, the school nurse called to report that Simon's ear was infected. I have to say that this woman calls for EVERY LITTLE THING so I didn't really take her call that seriously. She said she cleaned the ear. I told her I'd take the earring out when he got home. Simon came home. I looked at his rather swollen, inflamed ear. Ok...not good but nothing a little Neosporin won't fix. I tell him I am going to remove the earring, clean the earring and his ear really well and we'll put it back in. I barely touch his ear when he starts flipping out. Ok. This isn't going well. I tell him we are going to ice it so it won't hurt. Thank goodness for the Spongebob Boo Boo pack. We numb the ear. I attempt to take the backing off the earring and it's really stuck. So, stupidly, I tried to hold the tiny little cubic zirconia stud with my giant fingers and pull the backing when I accidentally, somehow, shoved the little stud into my poor Simon's ear lobe. The screaming was deafening and the blood starts pouring out. I couldn't believe what I had done. He was already hysterical so I tried to pull from the back side and all that did was make it worse. Way to go, me. I text Steve (who had just gotten out of work) and tell him to hurry because we need to get to the ER. Simon is screaming he doesn't want to go to the ER and that it's all my fault because I didn't try hard enough.
We arrived at Glenbrook's new ER (that I am sure my family has somehow paid for with all of our visits) and couldn't even find the entrance. We get in there and I had to explain what I did to my poor baby's ear. Looks like you wouldn't even believe. First, because I let my 6 year old BOY get an earring and second because I managed to shove an entire earring through his little lobe. The ER is very fancy now! 20 + rooms and glass and flat screen tv's and more cable channels than we have at home. We were in and out in less than an hour--shockingly! My poor Simon had to get a GINORMOUS shot to numb his earlobe--I swear this needle was only second in comparison to my brother Jordan's spinal tap needle. Steve and I had to hold his arms and his legs while the doctor gave it to him. Then, once numb, there was a scissors and tweezers involved. I couldn't watch. Zion watched the entire thing with fascination. The doctor somehow got the earring out without Simon needing stitches. He's got a bigger hole now but it will close up. He's on heavy oral antibiotics for 5 days and we will follow up with our doctor. He even asked the doctor when he could get the ear re-pierced!?!?! Seriously???? How about NEVER. As I left the ER...being flagged down with neon pink paper by a nurse telling me to make sure I pay my ER co-pay before we leave, another doctor literally ran and jumped in front of me to ask me how this happened. She was all like, "Oh I totally get the self-expression that kids have to have. I have a three year old......"
I was like, "Ok...he's the baby of 4. I was too tired to fight. I let him and #2 get earrings. It got infected. I tried to get it out and shoved it thru his ear. It was an accident." She laughed but I'm not sure she really thought it was that funny.
This was the worst damage I've done. When Andrew was about 3 or 4, he needed help zipping his pants and I accidentally caught his penis in the zipper. He yelled. Thank G-d there was no blood. But from then on I have never zipped any of my children's pants..ever. They either zip themselves or wear pants without zippers. It traumatized me for life.
Issac ended up with a black eye at 11 months old. Still have no idea how that happened. I went out for a girls night and Allan was home with him and Andrew. The next morning, I went to get Issac from his crib and there was my sweet boy with a giant black eye. No one ever knew what happened. But, we had to lie to our then doctor because both Issac and Andrew were in the midst of the never ending ear infections and we were at the doctor's office every 5 days at that point. So, we told him, when he of course asked us what happened, that he fell and hit his face on the edge of a table. He suggested corner pads to prevent that. Oh. Yeah. Thanks for that advice.
Even Zion has gotten hurt in my care. Right after we got married, Simon and Zion were playing in the basement. Andrew had a Scooby Doo bowling ball. They decided (at the age of 4) that it might be a fun ball to throw around. So they did. And it landed on Zion's finger. MAJOR hysterics ensued. Fingernail turned purple and then black and then fell off. Welcome to the family, Zion!
I am far from the perfect parent, clearly. I make mistakes. Everyday I learn something new. I, perhaps, have learned more than other parents. But, the boys are still all in one piece....just a few little things missing here and there, but overall in one piece. Hopefully, I won't do any more damage...but ya never know....we still have a lot of years to go.
As you may know, based on yesterday's blog, the school nurse called to report that Simon's ear was infected. I have to say that this woman calls for EVERY LITTLE THING so I didn't really take her call that seriously. She said she cleaned the ear. I told her I'd take the earring out when he got home. Simon came home. I looked at his rather swollen, inflamed ear. Ok...not good but nothing a little Neosporin won't fix. I tell him I am going to remove the earring, clean the earring and his ear really well and we'll put it back in. I barely touch his ear when he starts flipping out. Ok. This isn't going well. I tell him we are going to ice it so it won't hurt. Thank goodness for the Spongebob Boo Boo pack. We numb the ear. I attempt to take the backing off the earring and it's really stuck. So, stupidly, I tried to hold the tiny little cubic zirconia stud with my giant fingers and pull the backing when I accidentally, somehow, shoved the little stud into my poor Simon's ear lobe. The screaming was deafening and the blood starts pouring out. I couldn't believe what I had done. He was already hysterical so I tried to pull from the back side and all that did was make it worse. Way to go, me. I text Steve (who had just gotten out of work) and tell him to hurry because we need to get to the ER. Simon is screaming he doesn't want to go to the ER and that it's all my fault because I didn't try hard enough.
We arrived at Glenbrook's new ER (that I am sure my family has somehow paid for with all of our visits) and couldn't even find the entrance. We get in there and I had to explain what I did to my poor baby's ear. Looks like you wouldn't even believe. First, because I let my 6 year old BOY get an earring and second because I managed to shove an entire earring through his little lobe. The ER is very fancy now! 20 + rooms and glass and flat screen tv's and more cable channels than we have at home. We were in and out in less than an hour--shockingly! My poor Simon had to get a GINORMOUS shot to numb his earlobe--I swear this needle was only second in comparison to my brother Jordan's spinal tap needle. Steve and I had to hold his arms and his legs while the doctor gave it to him. Then, once numb, there was a scissors and tweezers involved. I couldn't watch. Zion watched the entire thing with fascination. The doctor somehow got the earring out without Simon needing stitches. He's got a bigger hole now but it will close up. He's on heavy oral antibiotics for 5 days and we will follow up with our doctor. He even asked the doctor when he could get the ear re-pierced!?!?! Seriously???? How about NEVER. As I left the ER...being flagged down with neon pink paper by a nurse telling me to make sure I pay my ER co-pay before we leave, another doctor literally ran and jumped in front of me to ask me how this happened. She was all like, "Oh I totally get the self-expression that kids have to have. I have a three year old......"
I was like, "Ok...he's the baby of 4. I was too tired to fight. I let him and #2 get earrings. It got infected. I tried to get it out and shoved it thru his ear. It was an accident." She laughed but I'm not sure she really thought it was that funny.
This was the worst damage I've done. When Andrew was about 3 or 4, he needed help zipping his pants and I accidentally caught his penis in the zipper. He yelled. Thank G-d there was no blood. But from then on I have never zipped any of my children's pants..ever. They either zip themselves or wear pants without zippers. It traumatized me for life.
Issac ended up with a black eye at 11 months old. Still have no idea how that happened. I went out for a girls night and Allan was home with him and Andrew. The next morning, I went to get Issac from his crib and there was my sweet boy with a giant black eye. No one ever knew what happened. But, we had to lie to our then doctor because both Issac and Andrew were in the midst of the never ending ear infections and we were at the doctor's office every 5 days at that point. So, we told him, when he of course asked us what happened, that he fell and hit his face on the edge of a table. He suggested corner pads to prevent that. Oh. Yeah. Thanks for that advice.
Even Zion has gotten hurt in my care. Right after we got married, Simon and Zion were playing in the basement. Andrew had a Scooby Doo bowling ball. They decided (at the age of 4) that it might be a fun ball to throw around. So they did. And it landed on Zion's finger. MAJOR hysterics ensued. Fingernail turned purple and then black and then fell off. Welcome to the family, Zion!
I am far from the perfect parent, clearly. I make mistakes. Everyday I learn something new. I, perhaps, have learned more than other parents. But, the boys are still all in one piece....just a few little things missing here and there, but overall in one piece. Hopefully, I won't do any more damage...but ya never know....we still have a lot of years to go.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Manic Monday
Woke up this morning to a bunch of clouds. Wanted to go walking but it looked like rain. So, I started laundry, the first of what will be at least 6 loads today. Kept hemming and hawing over taking the walk...still looked like rain. So while the laundry was going, I watched way old episodes of TLC's A Baby Story....pathetic. Then, an episode of Pregnant for 46 Years came on....who the hell comes up with these show ideas??? And more importantly, people really watch this stuff??
Got a call from the school nurse....she started off saying "Hi Mrs. Butman"-fine. Then she realized that Simon was the one in her office so she stopped and said "Oh, hi Mrs. Klein"--um, Butman, Klein...it's still me. Simon's earring has caused an infection...he was bloody and full of puss. Awesome. She suggested I pick him up, even though she's already cleaned the ear and he's all good to go. Seriously? When little girls come in because of the same thing, do you suggest they go home????? I talked to him. Told him his 6 weeks are up with the starter earring and tonight we'll go buy him a new earring. He was happy happy and I told him to go back to class and I hung up the phone. Pick him up over an earring issue? Is this really where we are at????
Then I got a work call about some equipment. Handled that situation. Switched loads of laundry. I cannot get over how bad uniforms can smell....even little boys uniforms....so nasty. And there are 7 to wash today...2 each for Andrew, Issac and Zion...1 for Simon....so gross. Still looking out the window, contemplating that walk....still cloudy...don't really feel like getting to the far side of the Wood Oaks hill and have it start pouring on me. I'm dainty....like a flower...cannot be rained on. HAHAHAHAHA.
Decided to DVR Extreme Couponing....but the DVR only has 6% room left on it. So I cleared that out. OOH. Found some episodes of Sister Wives I haven't watched yet. SCORE! (LOVE this show!!!) I don't think I have watched this much TV ever...adult TV that is....not counting kids shows when I was a stay at home mom. By the way....how does Kody afford 4 wives and 16 kids with another on the way????? He drives a Lexus and has a motorcycle. Only one wife, Janelle, has a job. I don't understand this!
My poor Andrew actually had to walk to school today--imagine that?! I hope he survived and didn't collapse along the way. AND--he has to walk home AND walk to Haftorah lessons. I hope he will manage to survive. Better make sure I make him a huge dinner as I'm sure he will be starving! Oh yea--dinner---hmmm....what am I going to make for everyone? Issac has a playoff game so we'll all be eating in shifts again. No jalepenos will be on the menu...not after my sweet Steve cut some this morning and then went to use the bathroom and didn't wash the jalepeno-niss off his hands first. Brilliance.
Looks like the sun may be peaking out now....perhaps I should go take that walk. Unless the humidity and heat has crept up. Then I'll be sitting here working on that laundry and waiting for Khloe & Lamar reruns this afternoon.
Got a call from the school nurse....she started off saying "Hi Mrs. Butman"-fine. Then she realized that Simon was the one in her office so she stopped and said "Oh, hi Mrs. Klein"--um, Butman, Klein...it's still me. Simon's earring has caused an infection...he was bloody and full of puss. Awesome. She suggested I pick him up, even though she's already cleaned the ear and he's all good to go. Seriously? When little girls come in because of the same thing, do you suggest they go home????? I talked to him. Told him his 6 weeks are up with the starter earring and tonight we'll go buy him a new earring. He was happy happy and I told him to go back to class and I hung up the phone. Pick him up over an earring issue? Is this really where we are at????
Then I got a work call about some equipment. Handled that situation. Switched loads of laundry. I cannot get over how bad uniforms can smell....even little boys uniforms....so nasty. And there are 7 to wash today...2 each for Andrew, Issac and Zion...1 for Simon....so gross. Still looking out the window, contemplating that walk....still cloudy...don't really feel like getting to the far side of the Wood Oaks hill and have it start pouring on me. I'm dainty....like a flower...cannot be rained on. HAHAHAHAHA.
Decided to DVR Extreme Couponing....but the DVR only has 6% room left on it. So I cleared that out. OOH. Found some episodes of Sister Wives I haven't watched yet. SCORE! (LOVE this show!!!) I don't think I have watched this much TV ever...adult TV that is....not counting kids shows when I was a stay at home mom. By the way....how does Kody afford 4 wives and 16 kids with another on the way????? He drives a Lexus and has a motorcycle. Only one wife, Janelle, has a job. I don't understand this!
My poor Andrew actually had to walk to school today--imagine that?! I hope he survived and didn't collapse along the way. AND--he has to walk home AND walk to Haftorah lessons. I hope he will manage to survive. Better make sure I make him a huge dinner as I'm sure he will be starving! Oh yea--dinner---hmmm....what am I going to make for everyone? Issac has a playoff game so we'll all be eating in shifts again. No jalepenos will be on the menu...not after my sweet Steve cut some this morning and then went to use the bathroom and didn't wash the jalepeno-niss off his hands first. Brilliance.
Looks like the sun may be peaking out now....perhaps I should go take that walk. Unless the humidity and heat has crept up. Then I'll be sitting here working on that laundry and waiting for Khloe & Lamar reruns this afternoon.
Friday, June 3, 2011
My Anniversary
2 years ago today, I underwent a Gastric Bypass. It was supposed to be a one night hospital stay and then home to begin my "new life". As many of you know, us Neuhausers don't ever do things the easy way. Apparently, we must be fond of hospitals and are hoping to one day have a wing named after us. My mom thinks after all we've spent, the wing should already be in place.
Warning: this story will get gross. If you get grossed out, stop reading now. Seriously.
I've struggled with my weight all of my life. And finally, after many unsuccessful attempts, I needed something more drastic. So, under the knife I went. (not really a knife, lol...laproscopic) The procedure itself went great! I was hardly in any pain afterwards. I have had 3 c-sections and a gallbladder removal, so this was like nothing. They were even able to use one of my gallbladder holes for this surgery. I was feeling totally fine....not hungry (so weird!) and was ready to go to sleep for the night. Steve and everyone went home. My mom stayed overnight. (We never leave anyone overnight alone at a hospital....you need someone to be your advocate in those places or you will get eaten alive.) They even brought her a cot--how thoughtful!
I dozed off but then, I started to lose my shit. (not different really from most days, lol, but something was wrong). I wanted to get out of my bed. I was connected to an IV and the wall and kept screaming and swearing at my mom and the nurses to let me out. They wouldn't let me up. I wanted to go to the bathroom but I had a catheter, so no need to. But, I really wanted to. So, I kept screaming and swearing. I think I dozed off again, and when I woke, my dad was there staring at me. Weird. Guess my mom called him to come back..she knew something was wrong.
All of a sudden, I thought I pooped myself. Told my dad. He thought I was kidding. I was totally not kidding so he ran and got a nurse. She came in, called for help...and they cleaned me up. A completely humiliating experience--let me tell you. So after all that and fresh linens..all is well. For 2 minutes. Then, it happened again. My dad, again, thought I was kidding. I started yelling. Off he ran to get the nurses..again. They changed the linens and cleaned up..again. This went on a few more times. No one bothered to tell me that, in fact, I was NOT pooping myself. (Um, would've been nice) Rather, I was bleeding out. :o(
My doctor came in. (the doctor's understudy guy....I love him!) He started to force feed me ice chips after telling me earlier I could have one about every 10-20 minutes. I thought I was going to vomit. I felt SO FULL after a few ice chips. (so weird how that can happen). He told me I had to keep eating them in order to stop the bleeding. In the meantime, the main surgeon was en route to the hospital. He came in, fully dressed in his sport coat, tie and cufflinks. Glad he was in no rush. Told me they were going in to stop the bleeding. My blood pressure was almost non-existent at this point. And I know I kept saying that I had babies at home (I never refer to my kids as babies...it was odd) and that they couldn't kill me today. I was told several time to stop saying that by the doctors. I also asked to be cleaned up and was shot down. I asked if anyone called Steve. It was now 7am and the sitter was at the house. So my mom called him and he raced over. I didn't get to see him though. Then, a team of nurses came in..and I was wheeled off into an elevator to the OR. I kept repeating that they couldn't kill me. One nurse told me to pray---gee, thanks for the vote of confidence lady.
In the OR, the new surgeon introduced himself. How polite. I asked if I could be cleaned up before they began and everyone yelled at me NO. As it turns out, the ice did stop the bleeding. So while in there, they cleaned out all the clots and I woke up in the ICU. Things in there weren't so bad. The nurses pay tons of attention to you. Downside--my mom was stuck with a crappy chair to "sleep" in.
So...Friday rolls around..things seem better. My uncle Marlow comes to relieve my mom from her babysitting duties. She went home to sleep and shower. Marlow and I were chatting and he was timing my drinking of liquids. All was going well. The next thing I remember was waking up at about 4am on Saturday. Yes, Saturday. Apparently, around 1pm Friday, I had a seizure-a big one. They ran every test possible and all results were negative. They never found a cause. They were guessing due to the major blood loss and the trauma, that was what caused it. When I woke that Saturday, I was tied to the bed by restraints and again, I was yelling about wanting to go to the bathroom. My mom told me they didn't have one. Was I 2 years old???? She used to tell me as a child places didn't have hot dogs on the menu. Then I learned to read. Lying went out the window long ago. In any event, again, I was super mean to the nurses...yelling and swearing at them and my mom. One nurse yelled back and told me to be nice to my mommy. I had a central line in my neck which was super uncomfortable and a slew of other wires and what not. Sunday evening, I was returned to a regular room and Monday evening I was released. AH...but not to my house. Swine flu had hit and so I had to go to my parents house for a week. Steve visited me a couple times and was kept at a distance so I wouldn't catch his cooties. He was running the house and all of the kids everywhere.(Issac was the only one who ever got really sick...the rest got sick from Tamiflu) Do you see a theme? Steve always gets the raw end of the deal.
After almost 2 weeks of being gone from my kids, after telling them I'd be gone 1 night, I went home. Needless to say, they weren't happy with me. But, they got over it. Would I do this again? Absolutely. It was not a cure all. Everyday is still a struggle. I still have to make choices. I realized that I must begin working out now--which I HATE---but I need to do it. I am happy with how I feel now. My health is great--knock on wood. On paper, I look PERFECT, LOL. All my numbers are exactly where they should be. I am much happier with how I look. Now, to just tweak some things with the exercise. Hoping it works. Onto another year!
Warning: this story will get gross. If you get grossed out, stop reading now. Seriously.
I've struggled with my weight all of my life. And finally, after many unsuccessful attempts, I needed something more drastic. So, under the knife I went. (not really a knife, lol...laproscopic) The procedure itself went great! I was hardly in any pain afterwards. I have had 3 c-sections and a gallbladder removal, so this was like nothing. They were even able to use one of my gallbladder holes for this surgery. I was feeling totally fine....not hungry (so weird!) and was ready to go to sleep for the night. Steve and everyone went home. My mom stayed overnight. (We never leave anyone overnight alone at a hospital....you need someone to be your advocate in those places or you will get eaten alive.) They even brought her a cot--how thoughtful!
I dozed off but then, I started to lose my shit. (not different really from most days, lol, but something was wrong). I wanted to get out of my bed. I was connected to an IV and the wall and kept screaming and swearing at my mom and the nurses to let me out. They wouldn't let me up. I wanted to go to the bathroom but I had a catheter, so no need to. But, I really wanted to. So, I kept screaming and swearing. I think I dozed off again, and when I woke, my dad was there staring at me. Weird. Guess my mom called him to come back..she knew something was wrong.
All of a sudden, I thought I pooped myself. Told my dad. He thought I was kidding. I was totally not kidding so he ran and got a nurse. She came in, called for help...and they cleaned me up. A completely humiliating experience--let me tell you. So after all that and fresh linens..all is well. For 2 minutes. Then, it happened again. My dad, again, thought I was kidding. I started yelling. Off he ran to get the nurses..again. They changed the linens and cleaned up..again. This went on a few more times. No one bothered to tell me that, in fact, I was NOT pooping myself. (Um, would've been nice) Rather, I was bleeding out. :o(
My doctor came in. (the doctor's understudy guy....I love him!) He started to force feed me ice chips after telling me earlier I could have one about every 10-20 minutes. I thought I was going to vomit. I felt SO FULL after a few ice chips. (so weird how that can happen). He told me I had to keep eating them in order to stop the bleeding. In the meantime, the main surgeon was en route to the hospital. He came in, fully dressed in his sport coat, tie and cufflinks. Glad he was in no rush. Told me they were going in to stop the bleeding. My blood pressure was almost non-existent at this point. And I know I kept saying that I had babies at home (I never refer to my kids as babies...it was odd) and that they couldn't kill me today. I was told several time to stop saying that by the doctors. I also asked to be cleaned up and was shot down. I asked if anyone called Steve. It was now 7am and the sitter was at the house. So my mom called him and he raced over. I didn't get to see him though. Then, a team of nurses came in..and I was wheeled off into an elevator to the OR. I kept repeating that they couldn't kill me. One nurse told me to pray---gee, thanks for the vote of confidence lady.
In the OR, the new surgeon introduced himself. How polite. I asked if I could be cleaned up before they began and everyone yelled at me NO. As it turns out, the ice did stop the bleeding. So while in there, they cleaned out all the clots and I woke up in the ICU. Things in there weren't so bad. The nurses pay tons of attention to you. Downside--my mom was stuck with a crappy chair to "sleep" in.
So...Friday rolls around..things seem better. My uncle Marlow comes to relieve my mom from her babysitting duties. She went home to sleep and shower. Marlow and I were chatting and he was timing my drinking of liquids. All was going well. The next thing I remember was waking up at about 4am on Saturday. Yes, Saturday. Apparently, around 1pm Friday, I had a seizure-a big one. They ran every test possible and all results were negative. They never found a cause. They were guessing due to the major blood loss and the trauma, that was what caused it. When I woke that Saturday, I was tied to the bed by restraints and again, I was yelling about wanting to go to the bathroom. My mom told me they didn't have one. Was I 2 years old???? She used to tell me as a child places didn't have hot dogs on the menu. Then I learned to read. Lying went out the window long ago. In any event, again, I was super mean to the nurses...yelling and swearing at them and my mom. One nurse yelled back and told me to be nice to my mommy. I had a central line in my neck which was super uncomfortable and a slew of other wires and what not. Sunday evening, I was returned to a regular room and Monday evening I was released. AH...but not to my house. Swine flu had hit and so I had to go to my parents house for a week. Steve visited me a couple times and was kept at a distance so I wouldn't catch his cooties. He was running the house and all of the kids everywhere.(Issac was the only one who ever got really sick...the rest got sick from Tamiflu) Do you see a theme? Steve always gets the raw end of the deal.
After almost 2 weeks of being gone from my kids, after telling them I'd be gone 1 night, I went home. Needless to say, they weren't happy with me. But, they got over it. Would I do this again? Absolutely. It was not a cure all. Everyday is still a struggle. I still have to make choices. I realized that I must begin working out now--which I HATE---but I need to do it. I am happy with how I feel now. My health is great--knock on wood. On paper, I look PERFECT, LOL. All my numbers are exactly where they should be. I am much happier with how I look. Now, to just tweak some things with the exercise. Hoping it works. Onto another year!
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Happy Birthday, Bub!!
Today is my Bubby's birthday.....I think she would've turned 88 today. ( I may be wrong about this...I was never sure what year she was born in.) In honor of her birthday, I will share some funny stories about her.
I used to call my Bubby on the phone and pretend I was her friend, Olive. To this day, I have no idea who in the hell Olive was. I never met the woman. I have no idea if she really existed. In any case, I'd call her house and tell her it was Olive. Then, my Bub would pretend to have a conversation with Olive. Eventually, I would tell her it was me. She would act so hurt and offended that I "tricked" her. For years I believed that I was fooling her.
High Holidays at her house were always a treat. The adults sat in the dining room. The kids would sit in the kitchen. We weren't allowed to have any pop before the main course was served. G-d forbid we wanted to get ice out of the freezer. It took 3 people to hold things in place and move other things around in order to get the ice trays out without 3 lbs of hamburger meat falling and breaking someone's foot. We would want to watch TV. Well, the tiny tv's speakers blared into the dining room. Everyone in there would talk louder to talk over the TV. In turn, we would make the TV louder and so on and so forth. Eventually, we got yelled at to turn the TV off because it was too loud. And, anyone who knows us knows we are loud to begin with. So talking always seems like yelling. My Bub would finally sit down to eat (as the rest of us were finishing) and would tell us all that "Millie didn't have this". Millie was one of her oldest and dearest friends. In Bub's mind, Millie's family was much quieter and more well behaved then us. Here's what Bub never knew: Millie never had this because her family didn't give 2 shits about her. They probably didn't include her in holidays. And, when my Uncle Aaron passed away, Millie came to the Shiva, brought by her son. We found out that her son decided one day to pack up her apartment and shove her into a nursing home. Millie had nothing and her kids wanted nothing to do with her. We still talk about Millie at holiday meals. We have no idea at this point if she is even still alive. If she is, we should probably invite her to join us.
Bubby would bake for everyone's birthdays--everyone got their favorite cake. Uncle Aaron ALWAYS got a rum cake. I got yellow with chocolate frosting, as did my mom and Lance. My dad would get chocolate with chocolate frosting. For our birthday parties, we did not have Deerfields or Jewel cakes. We had Bubby cakes. She would bake and frost. My mom would decorate. The cake was always 2 layers...usually one chocolate, one yellow and it would have chocolate frosting. When I was dating my late husband, she baked him a cake AND decorated it with all Vegas themed things, knowing he loved Vegas. For Andrew's 1st birthday, he got the king of all cakes: a TRIPLE layer cake...no one before and no one after ever got a cake like that.
And, speaking of birthdays. We threw my Mom a surprise 40th birthday party. The party was held in our house. My mom was out working that day. As soon as she left, Bubby came over to start arranging her own deli trays---she hand rolled (along with my help) each and every slice of salami, turkey, corned beef, etc. She sliced every vegetable and arranged everything. I cleaned the house. Mind you, I was 16 years old. My mother came home. My Bub lied to her about my Uncle Marlow having a party and they lost power in the house so they moved the party to our house. My mom was having a shit fit about how the house was dirty (I worked all day on that house!) and how she was tired from working all day and didn't want people at the house. My dad took her out and then they came back to the party. Surprise!
We used to go shopping every Saturday with Bub. My dad worked Saturdays so my mom, Lance and I would pick her up and go to different malls, putz around and have lunch. She and my mom were once attacked by crowds of people at Randhurst over the calzones they were eating from Sbarro. People acted like they had never seen food. We'd go to Stratford Square so I could go to the Hello Kitty store and we could eat Charlie Chan's for lunch. I think we ate chicken on a stick.....I think......I'm getting old. Can't remember.
Bub was a GIANT worry wart. When I was 19, I was dog sitting for my parents friends dog in Wilmette. They wanted me to sleep at the house with the dog. Fine. G-d forbid I would've stayed there alone. My mom made me tell her that Tammy was staying with me at the house. So, my Bub decided she had to take Tammy to lunch to thank her for doing this. Off to Olive Garden we went, with her and my Papa. Tammy was terribly uncomfortable the entire time as we were LYING. (my mom said it was ok to lie because it made Bub feel better...uh huh...surely) Bub LOVED the Olive Garden. She'd order an entree but would fill up on salad and breadsticks and then take her meal home. That would last her for like 2 or 3 meals. She loved, loved, loved that salad!
In any event, this has been a nice stroll down memory lane. Well, for me anyway LOL. And for my family. The rest of you will probably wonder what was funny or amusing about all this. You would have had to have known her to understand. And if you didn't know her, you missed out on quite an amazing lady. NO ONE had more patience or a bigger heart than her. No one ever will. Happy Birthday, Bub!
I used to call my Bubby on the phone and pretend I was her friend, Olive. To this day, I have no idea who in the hell Olive was. I never met the woman. I have no idea if she really existed. In any case, I'd call her house and tell her it was Olive. Then, my Bub would pretend to have a conversation with Olive. Eventually, I would tell her it was me. She would act so hurt and offended that I "tricked" her. For years I believed that I was fooling her.
High Holidays at her house were always a treat. The adults sat in the dining room. The kids would sit in the kitchen. We weren't allowed to have any pop before the main course was served. G-d forbid we wanted to get ice out of the freezer. It took 3 people to hold things in place and move other things around in order to get the ice trays out without 3 lbs of hamburger meat falling and breaking someone's foot. We would want to watch TV. Well, the tiny tv's speakers blared into the dining room. Everyone in there would talk louder to talk over the TV. In turn, we would make the TV louder and so on and so forth. Eventually, we got yelled at to turn the TV off because it was too loud. And, anyone who knows us knows we are loud to begin with. So talking always seems like yelling. My Bub would finally sit down to eat (as the rest of us were finishing) and would tell us all that "Millie didn't have this". Millie was one of her oldest and dearest friends. In Bub's mind, Millie's family was much quieter and more well behaved then us. Here's what Bub never knew: Millie never had this because her family didn't give 2 shits about her. They probably didn't include her in holidays. And, when my Uncle Aaron passed away, Millie came to the Shiva, brought by her son. We found out that her son decided one day to pack up her apartment and shove her into a nursing home. Millie had nothing and her kids wanted nothing to do with her. We still talk about Millie at holiday meals. We have no idea at this point if she is even still alive. If she is, we should probably invite her to join us.
Bubby would bake for everyone's birthdays--everyone got their favorite cake. Uncle Aaron ALWAYS got a rum cake. I got yellow with chocolate frosting, as did my mom and Lance. My dad would get chocolate with chocolate frosting. For our birthday parties, we did not have Deerfields or Jewel cakes. We had Bubby cakes. She would bake and frost. My mom would decorate. The cake was always 2 layers...usually one chocolate, one yellow and it would have chocolate frosting. When I was dating my late husband, she baked him a cake AND decorated it with all Vegas themed things, knowing he loved Vegas. For Andrew's 1st birthday, he got the king of all cakes: a TRIPLE layer cake...no one before and no one after ever got a cake like that.
And, speaking of birthdays. We threw my Mom a surprise 40th birthday party. The party was held in our house. My mom was out working that day. As soon as she left, Bubby came over to start arranging her own deli trays---she hand rolled (along with my help) each and every slice of salami, turkey, corned beef, etc. She sliced every vegetable and arranged everything. I cleaned the house. Mind you, I was 16 years old. My mother came home. My Bub lied to her about my Uncle Marlow having a party and they lost power in the house so they moved the party to our house. My mom was having a shit fit about how the house was dirty (I worked all day on that house!) and how she was tired from working all day and didn't want people at the house. My dad took her out and then they came back to the party. Surprise!
We used to go shopping every Saturday with Bub. My dad worked Saturdays so my mom, Lance and I would pick her up and go to different malls, putz around and have lunch. She and my mom were once attacked by crowds of people at Randhurst over the calzones they were eating from Sbarro. People acted like they had never seen food. We'd go to Stratford Square so I could go to the Hello Kitty store and we could eat Charlie Chan's for lunch. I think we ate chicken on a stick.....I think......I'm getting old. Can't remember.
Bub was a GIANT worry wart. When I was 19, I was dog sitting for my parents friends dog in Wilmette. They wanted me to sleep at the house with the dog. Fine. G-d forbid I would've stayed there alone. My mom made me tell her that Tammy was staying with me at the house. So, my Bub decided she had to take Tammy to lunch to thank her for doing this. Off to Olive Garden we went, with her and my Papa. Tammy was terribly uncomfortable the entire time as we were LYING. (my mom said it was ok to lie because it made Bub feel better...uh huh...surely) Bub LOVED the Olive Garden. She'd order an entree but would fill up on salad and breadsticks and then take her meal home. That would last her for like 2 or 3 meals. She loved, loved, loved that salad!
In any event, this has been a nice stroll down memory lane. Well, for me anyway LOL. And for my family. The rest of you will probably wonder what was funny or amusing about all this. You would have had to have known her to understand. And if you didn't know her, you missed out on quite an amazing lady. NO ONE had more patience or a bigger heart than her. No one ever will. Happy Birthday, Bub!
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Broken A/C, An All Star Game & a Wedding
Three years ago today, I woke up to find out the air conditioning in my house wasn't working. It was about 80 degrees out that day and Andrew was playing in the All Star game. Oh...and Steve and I were getting married that afternoon. It's funny, how with a second marriage, second wedding, things are so different.
We all met at the Village Green to watch Andrew play in his big game. The weather was just beautiful...not a cloud in the sky. We all sat...getting some nice sun (some of us burnt) and some of the parents asked me when the big day was. I told them it was at 4pm. They all just stared at me and said, "TODAY??" Yes, today..at 4pm. Good thing the All Star Game was in the morning. Andrew's team won their game, which was awesome. Then, Natalie, our nanny for the summer (and Tessi's very dear friend) took the boys home. Tessi and I went off to get our hair and make up done. Oh..and the a/c guy came out to my house..on a Sunday...because I told him I was getting married and I couldn't dare get dressed without having cool air.
When you get married the first time, of course, you think it will be forever. But, as many of us know, nothing is forever. So...then comes wedding number 2. But, the difference, I think, is that you realize it is MARRIAGE number 2...not wedding number 2. So many brides get so wrapped up in the wedding, they lose sight of why there is a wedding...because there is a marriage following it. You have decided to build and share a life with this other person. It's not just about the flowers and the dress and the signature drink. (which back when I got married the first time, no one had at their weddings...thank you Bridezilla and Platinum Weddings for making everyone think they need one)
After the big wedding (or small intimate one), many couples jet off on a fancy, lovely honeymoon and vacation and relax. Or...take safari in Africa....or trek through Europe. Steve and I headed to the Westin for one night..the next day..had brunch at Walker Brothers and then headed to the dry cleaners to drop off our clothes. We ran a couple of errands and then went home. Very exciting stuff. Steve began to unpack his boxes and asked if I planned on giving him any more space for his clothes other than the one drawer he had had for a few months. Oh. I hadn't thought about that. So...we began shifting things around. This was stressful for me as I had sprawled all of my stuff throughout the closets and bedroom furniture for a few years. I managed to clear some space for him. Then, we had leftovers from our wedding reception at Wildfire with the kids and my parents. The next day, we went back to work and went on with our lives.
While it is a ton of fun to plan a wedding and shop for the dress and get super involved in planning every last detail, people need to think a little bit further. It isn't just about the wedding. It's about a journey you are about to embark on with this other person...the person you cannot imagine spending the rest of your life without. Does it really matter where you get married? Does it really matter who you are wearing or if you picked Jordan almonds or chocolate covered Oreos to go on each table at dinner? Truthfully, it doesn't--not in the scheme of things.
My favorite movie, "When Harry Met Sally" has so many wonderful quotes but my favorite one is this:
"I love that you get cold when it's 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's New Year's Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."
That is what a marriage is about-----starting the rest of your life as soon as possible. That is what Steve and I did. Originally, we were planning a much bigger wedding for October. After some thought, we realized there was no reason to wait. We wanted the rest of our lives to start as soon as possible. So, we opted for a much smaller wedding...we made it about the kids and us. Simon kept saying that day that "we" were getting married. And, that is exactly what "we" did. We became a family. It wasn't exactly the wedding we wanted....but, it didn't matter. What mattered was that we were beginning the rest of our lives. And, that is exactly what we did.
Happy Anniversary, babe!!!! xoxoxox
We all met at the Village Green to watch Andrew play in his big game. The weather was just beautiful...not a cloud in the sky. We all sat...getting some nice sun (some of us burnt) and some of the parents asked me when the big day was. I told them it was at 4pm. They all just stared at me and said, "TODAY??" Yes, today..at 4pm. Good thing the All Star Game was in the morning. Andrew's team won their game, which was awesome. Then, Natalie, our nanny for the summer (and Tessi's very dear friend) took the boys home. Tessi and I went off to get our hair and make up done. Oh..and the a/c guy came out to my house..on a Sunday...because I told him I was getting married and I couldn't dare get dressed without having cool air.
When you get married the first time, of course, you think it will be forever. But, as many of us know, nothing is forever. So...then comes wedding number 2. But, the difference, I think, is that you realize it is MARRIAGE number 2...not wedding number 2. So many brides get so wrapped up in the wedding, they lose sight of why there is a wedding...because there is a marriage following it. You have decided to build and share a life with this other person. It's not just about the flowers and the dress and the signature drink. (which back when I got married the first time, no one had at their weddings...thank you Bridezilla and Platinum Weddings for making everyone think they need one)
After the big wedding (or small intimate one), many couples jet off on a fancy, lovely honeymoon and vacation and relax. Or...take safari in Africa....or trek through Europe. Steve and I headed to the Westin for one night..the next day..had brunch at Walker Brothers and then headed to the dry cleaners to drop off our clothes. We ran a couple of errands and then went home. Very exciting stuff. Steve began to unpack his boxes and asked if I planned on giving him any more space for his clothes other than the one drawer he had had for a few months. Oh. I hadn't thought about that. So...we began shifting things around. This was stressful for me as I had sprawled all of my stuff throughout the closets and bedroom furniture for a few years. I managed to clear some space for him. Then, we had leftovers from our wedding reception at Wildfire with the kids and my parents. The next day, we went back to work and went on with our lives.
While it is a ton of fun to plan a wedding and shop for the dress and get super involved in planning every last detail, people need to think a little bit further. It isn't just about the wedding. It's about a journey you are about to embark on with this other person...the person you cannot imagine spending the rest of your life without. Does it really matter where you get married? Does it really matter who you are wearing or if you picked Jordan almonds or chocolate covered Oreos to go on each table at dinner? Truthfully, it doesn't--not in the scheme of things.
My favorite movie, "When Harry Met Sally" has so many wonderful quotes but my favorite one is this:
"I love that you get cold when it's 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's New Year's Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."
That is what a marriage is about-----starting the rest of your life as soon as possible. That is what Steve and I did. Originally, we were planning a much bigger wedding for October. After some thought, we realized there was no reason to wait. We wanted the rest of our lives to start as soon as possible. So, we opted for a much smaller wedding...we made it about the kids and us. Simon kept saying that day that "we" were getting married. And, that is exactly what "we" did. We became a family. It wasn't exactly the wedding we wanted....but, it didn't matter. What mattered was that we were beginning the rest of our lives. And, that is exactly what we did.
Happy Anniversary, babe!!!! xoxoxox
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