Worlds Best Weekend

Remember when Saturday's used to be fun?  Before we had kids we loved lazy Saturday mornings, working on house projects, running a leisurely errand and having dinner out.   Now, our Saturday's are running kids around and Mr. Man and I usually divide and conquer.  He runs one kid around, while I take the other, and we meet at the soccer field for games and if we are lucky, we eat out as a family in the evening.   The weekends are full, and the previous Saturday was madness.  We had a weekend where we were at home for 5 minutes at a time, and gone most of the day at six different activities, Sunday was the same.  It was too busy.   Then suddenly football ended, soccer ended, and we found ourselves this past Saturday with a clear day.  I started the day off with a hike with my deer friends. Bon Jour Jane!

I had tackled my "mom closet" the day before and was inspired to get my house in order.  The whole family thoroughly mucked out their rooms, and we cleaned out closets. No one really loved doing that, but it felt so good when it was done.  We laughed and talked while we worked and took several puppy breaks.

Around 5pm, I realized AK never changed out of her pajamas.  There wasn't a reason to, :we never left the house.  As the sun set, AK yawned and requested to watch a movie in her bed.   She was joined by both dogs and thoroughly enjoyed the downtime.   The mood was relaxed and lazy around the house.   

 

After accomplishing so much, I sat and read for a while with zero guilt, then I got ready for a night out with Mr. Man and the Irish's.   A surprise party for our dear friend that was turning the big 4-0.  I had some cheese at the party that made my knees go weak, it was divine. 

 

We had chomped on leftover gumballs while we did our chores during the day.  This was my gift for my friend, complete with a giftcard to her favorite store tucked inside. I love it when Pinterest makes me look good. 

  

When my head hit the pillow at the end of the weekend, I paused for a moment to give thanks, for this house, for my family, for my friends, and for these blissful Saturdays that recharge.   One day I'll look back and reminisce about those chaotic taxi-driving Saturdays with fondness, but for now, I'll just savor the weekends where no one cares that you never got out of your pajamas.  

Two years ago today...

Two years ago my mom sat my brother and I down and told us that her cancer had returned. It had metastasized, it was everywhere, it was terminal. She died three months later.

I still miss her all the time and after her death my dad cleaned out everything of hers. I took many of her things home and stuffed it in a closet and have kept the door closed. Every time I open the door, the tears flow and it is too painful to go through my mothers things. For the past year I have avoided this closet, until today. I'm ready to accept that my moms things are now my things. I am ready to embrace the tears and remember her vibrant spirit. She is gone but her memories still live on.

Introducing Z-Diddy aka Ziggy Boo

It was a little over a year ago, we lost our beloved dogs, Sandy and Skoopi within a few days of each other. 

My poor children have grieved heavily for the loss of their pets and were so traumatized by it.  Zoey has helped immensely and has been the best thing to help our family adjust, but the whole family feels the void of going from two dogs to one.   Add in that Zoey has been miserable since the kids started going to school all day long, because I'm apparently not nearly as fun as the kids.   Zoey also has a terrible secret, she eats the house when she is left alone.  Yes, the same beautiful house that the Juans built.  Muy Malo, Zoey!

The Neighborsteins just adopted two beautiful puppies and since we got puppies with them last time, we were feeling the peer pressure.   I wanted to adopt an older dog this time, but finding the right dog proved to be a challenge.  We fell in love with one, but she was already adopted by the time our adoption application was approved.  Another dog had 10 potential applicants and I started to feel just like I do when we are on a "Baby Chase" trying to adopting babies.  I started to get anxious and felt defeated, just like when we are adopting.  The ever patient and calm Mr. Man said, "La patience mon amour,  the right dog will find us."  And he was right.   

On Saturday we visited an adoption fair put on by our very favorite rescue, Best Friends Animal Shelter.  They are a no kill shelter that goes in to shelters and pulls animals out of high kill shelters when their time is up.  This sweet little thing was put in AK's lap.  This sweet little puppy is from the hood, South Central Los Angeles and comes complete with a tatoo.   She was picked up off the streets and after two weeks at the South Central shelter her time was up.  Best Friends stepped in and rescued her on Halloween, knowing this Labradorish pup would easily find a family.  

 "Oh Mama, Please can we keep her?"   

  

I couldn't resist this little face. 

 

And I couldn't resist those crooked ears either.

 

So she came home with us to start a new life.  

 

We named her Ziggy Boo.

 

And we are smitten.  Can you blame us?

Dressing Up..

My kids are always quick to point out the "other moms".  "Other mom's" pack fruit roll up and lunchables... "Other mom's" don't nag about getting faces washed and putting on a clean shirt.   Sometimes, I'm proud I march to the beat of my own drum, but other times they are spot on in pointing out my shortfalls.

When Mr. Boy was in Kindergarten at the fabulous little Jesus-lovin school, he pointed out... "All the other mom's dress up for Halloween"  and most of them did.   I made a vow that I would dress up, but it took a few years for me to get in the mode to do it.   The first year,  my halloween costume was  held hostage while the floors were being redone and I was in the midst of my remodeling induced emotional breakdown.   Last year I went as a glam witch.... but I knew I wanted to do something original for this year.    

And it was a hit.... I forgot how fun it was to dress up.   It was such an easy costume to make and I think my fabulous new shades give "Flo" a touch of pizazz!

Last year, AK was sweet Madeline and I loved designing her costume.   We spotted a little girl at a halloween carnival wearing an Olivia Costume last year and AK said, "Mom! I want to be Olivia next year!"  

 Of course trying to hunt down a red and white striped shirt or fabric proved to be challenging because whenever you need something it's always scarce.

 

I made her little red jumper and the ears, and AK is thrilled with her costume. I love that she is still little enough that she wants me to make her costumes.   Mr. Boy wants none of that now....  he wants blood, guts, and gore. 

 

I don't have pictures of Mr. Boy in his costume, but I do have a picture of what happens when you eat nothing but candy and soda for an entire day.  Poor guy learned a tough lesson over the weekend, our bodies aren't made for a steady diet of sugar and chocolate.  He proclaimed at one point, "I won't ever eat chocolate again!" 

 

Any bets on how long that will last?  

Does this Fridge make my kitchen look fat?

It doesn't seem that long ago, the Juans were busy working on the house.  I miss them terribly and my favorite thing about the Juans was that I just had to shout, "Ayudeme!" (Help!) and someone would come to help me.  That came in handy as I was often working on house projects while they were here.  I love the house they built and when asked, "Would you remodel again?" my answer is YES, in a heartbeat.  We had a great crew, amazing contractor, and it has changed my life.  I've become this crazy recluse homebody who thinks the deer are my best friends.   

The Chalet has had one nagging problem which has been my very fabulous  Juan-ized Fridge.  It is super old and has been leaving ominous puddles on the floor which have been getting larger.    When I talked to the repairman he had the nerve to laugh at me and say, "Junk it! I can't even get parts for it anymore".  Finally, Mr. Man and I decided a beach towel in front of the fridge isn't really the seasons hottest accessory and to pick out a new fridge.   

Originally, I wanted a Tablet Fridge, but Mr. Man's solution to the tablet fridge made me reevaluate it's functionality.  Once again, Mr. Man and I trolled the aisles of Home Depot and the appliance stores asking the question, does this fridge make me look fat?   Which is our favorite way of asking if you like this fridge.  I never really found anything that made me excited to get a new fridge, I loved my old fridge so very much.   Maybe you aren't supposed to get excited appliances... and I'm supposed to find my excitement elsewhere, like rapelling down a skyscraper.  

Finally, I found a fridge that made me giddy, it had a whole bunch of different accessories, and I swear that is the way to sell me on something every time.  You can switch out the handles for 100 different variations and for whatever reason that is what I love most.  

I bought the fridge and then came home and measured the space.  That is backwards, do not do it this way.  I was a little off in my measurements, but surely, the spec sheet from the manufacturer allowed for some wiggle room.   I'm sure they weren't EXACT measurements...  except that they were precise and accurate exact measurements which I discovered on delivery day.   

 

The deliverymen hauled the fridge in and said, "Oops, doesn't fit, you are a 1/4 inch off.  Well, we can take it back right now and you'll get a full refund. "  To which, I said, "NO!  I can make this work!"  (All that Project Runway is really paying off, I could actually hear Tim Gunn saying in my ear, "Well, make it work!") 

So,  I immediately dialed the Juans and said, "Ayudeme! Por Favor"  but they were on a job and couldn't help until next week.   That wouldn't work because I didn't want to admit to Mr. Man who had asked 3 times, "Will it fit?"  that I was wrong.  Our marriage is built on the illusion that I'm perfect, and a quarter of an inch wasn't going to stand in my way. I went out the garage to assess the tools, grabbed a jigsaw, a hammer, and a crowbar.  I shouted out, "Lo Siento Cabinet Juan!"  as I started cutting into the cabinets to wedge the fridge in. I am shocked that I didn't lose a toe or a finger although I had some close calls.

 

 Huzzah! It fit and Mr. Man is none the wiser, our marriage is saved!  Although I fessed up pretty quickly, because I love bragging about my handiness. 

 

For what it's worth, the fridge is a Viking D3 and I love it.  It's quiet, spacious, and I ordered different handles so I can mix it up.  Mr. Man is a bit nervous, I'm going to bedazzle the handles... but that would be pretty glam.. Oui? 

Yes meets my Bucket List: America's Cup

Part of an ongoing project called, "The Yes Project", where I resolve to say YES more to opportunities that come my way.  Click here to see the other posts.

When I was little my family had a sailboat and my brothers took sailing lessons every summer.  While other kids were enjoying afterschool sports and shopping at the mall, I was on a boat taking sailing lessons. During one sailing lesson, our boat got way off course and when we failed to return to the harbor, the Coast Guard had to come and rescue us.   I still remember my mom on the dock fretting that I could have "been adrift for years". (We were only about two miles offshore, I highly doubt I would have been adrift for years.) 

I distinctly remember watching the America's Cup Boat Races on TV with my brothers while I was growing up and have always wanted to see the races in person.  It's item number 14 on my Bucket List.   My darling nephew asked me earlier this year to please come and visit during his birthday week. I said, "Yes."   Lucky for both of us, he lives in San Francisco, home of America's Cup, and his birthday week coincided with the World Series races.  

The America's Cup Village was super kid friendly and my kids totally caught the America's Cup Fever.  Their favorite was learning to walk on the boat nets and the America's Cup iPad game.  I loved that my Uncle and Aunt came to join us for the day!

 

We opted to watch one of the fleet races from the shoreline and as I sat on the rocks, I looked around and had that sense of community..  These were my people, who came from all over to watch America's Cup.  The lady next to me also had this on her bucket list, and when one of the boats had a spectacular capsize, we all gasped, cheered, and high fived each other.    

Can I also pause and mention how much I love my brother?   My family has changed so much over the last year and really, he is my family.  There is so much of my mom in him, and when I spend time with him, I feel closer to my mom.   I give him a hard time, but he did hog all the good genes.  Just look at those dimples.

 

If it wasn't the year of the YES, I probably would have said no to my nephew.  It took some logistics to pull this trip off, in the middle of school and sports, but Wow,  what a trip!  How often do you get opportunities to love on your nephews AND cross something off your bucket list!?  Grateful for YES! 

Where does Yes take you? Part 5, YES takes me "Over The Edge"

Part of an ongoing project called, "The Yes Project", where I resolve to say YES more to opportunities that come my way.  Click here to see the other posts.

There is a small flaw with this "Yes Project" where in my friends all taunt me with "Oh say yes, you have to!" and suddenly I'm crawling through mud or hanging by a harness 32 stories off the ground. 

  

I was chatting with my friends at school and my friend mentioned she was going to repel down the side of the skyscraper the next day.   We all stopped and said, "Wait... What!?! Why?"  After she explained, my friend Chaton  said, "Sounds like a Yes Project for you... can we do it too?"  

I was familiar with the hotel and I didn't really remember it as being a tall one... maybe 6 or 8 stories. It wouldn't be so bad, I thought... 5 minutes of terror and then I could be on my merry way.  I was wrong, so very wrong.

 I was on the phone with one of the Ya Ya's when I first caught glimpse of people repelling off the 32nd floor of the Westin Bonaventure Hotel. I opened my car door and threw up, right there on Figueroa Avenue in Downtown LA. Did I mention I'm terrified of heights?  

We signed away our lives on a stack of waivers and then Chaton and I went up the penthouse to get harnessed up.  While standing around the plush suite, you aren't really thinking about what is about to take place.   Everyone is in a good mood, and they move you through it all really quickly.  Then there is that moment... where they ask you to stand on the edge to be clipped in and you realize.... You are 32 stories off the ground... what in the world am I doing?

I held on to the rope for dear life and slowly made my way down.   I would look down and see the tiny people on the ground and think, "I'm so very envious of them."  

There was comfort in having my friend, Chaton doing this with me.  Only she knows just how terrified I was. The crazy thing is there is only one way to get down, if you panic, they can't just open a window and pull you inside, you have to finish no matter what.   There is no plan B.  My whole life is all about Plan A and Plan B, this took me way out of my comfort zone in so many ways.   I thought I would lose my mind when a gust of wind sent me swinging sideways.   I just kept uttering, "You can do this, just keep going. You are going to be okay." 

 When I got to the bottom, there was a man who was there to help me out of my harness.  When my feet touched the ground, I grabbed him and hugged him as hard as I could.   My whole body was shaking with adrenaline, and when he started to pull away, I said, "Nope, not done hugging you yet."  I have no idea what his name was, but I held on to him for dear life until I felt my limbs steady enough to stand on my own. 

My daring friend who convinced us to do this, Moi, and Chaton

This was by far my most challenging "YES" project so far, but crazy rewarding.   The adrenaline buzz lasted for at least a day and a half and it is something that reminded me, "I can do anything."   This whole Yes project is all about making me step out of my comfort zone and embrace life.  So often I let my head interfere with opportunities, saying No is the easiest route in many cases, but when you say No, you just don't know what you are missing. Just say Yes!     

 A few links for you:
-The Over the Edge Boy Scouts of America Fundraiser - Join me in 2013

-Interested in doing an Over the Edge Event near you?  They do them all over the nation.

-Local Media Coverage 

-The Over the Edge LA Teaser Video

One of those crazy sports parents...

Oh this blasted football, I have such a love hate relationship with the sport. Mr. Boy loves it, and even worse he is great at it, but flag football, leads to tackle football and I don't know if I can do that. I can barely handle flag football because every time they hitchhike* the ball, they plow into each other. Some of the teams are more physical than others and when a kid gets hurt we (the parents) have strict instructions not to run in the field. The rule is to let the coaches assess first, and it takes all my might and strength not to run on the field when Mr. Boy gets hurt.

One particular game, the other team wasn't playing very nice and were tossing our kids to the ground.   It's flag football so that isn't allowed and the dumb refs weren't even calling it.  After a kid got tackled right at the ref's feet, I felt that low growl of a mama bear rising from within.   Next thing I know, I've ordered AK to hold my earrings and I'm storming out on the field. 

 

Before I really can even register what is happening, I'm out on the field wagging my finger in the ref's face and telling him how to do his job. It was almost like an out of body experience and suddenly I realize... "Oh no.. I'm one of those crazy parents!"   

 

Pretty soon,  I'm being guided off the field by the coach and told to settle down. (All while suddenly becoming aware that everyone has their cell phones aimed in my direction, I'm sure there is a YouTube video of it somewhere.)  I'm mortified and can't figure out how I've become one of those crazy sports parents.  Somehow my car has lawn chairs in the trunk at all times for sitting on the sidelines, Gatorade is a staple in my fridge, and I have a color coded calender for different sports.  Although... now my lawn chairs have a seatbelt, to discourage me from jumping out of my chair to yell at the refs...      

*FYI - I'm aware the technical term is "hike the ball", but up until two weeks ago, I thought the term was "hitchhike the ball". 

It can all wait until tomorrow...

One morning with a stack of papers on my desk and a sink full of dirty dishes, my friend Hillary and I were lamenting about the only terrible fabric store somewhat near us. We both are working on house projects and needed fabric. These are first world problems, I know.

Silly us! We live in LA, home of the garment district.  Then we wondered what would happen if we blew everything off for the morning and hit downtown. And I said, "YES! Let's find out what happens when we blow off our responsibilities." 

Once downtown, Hillary showed off her talent of finding the perfect fabric for her project only to find out it was the priciest fabric in the store.  I showed off my talent of being a really good enabler.

The dishes were still there when I got back, and the stack on my desk got addressed  in due time, but it was totally worth playing hooky from my life for a morning and indulge in a whim.  Thankful for Yes!

Mantle Redeux: Sand, Paint, Scream... Repeat

I have had a bee in my bonnet this last month to get moving on the long list of house projects. Last year around this time, I couldn't stand my fireplace one more minute and bought this mantle off Craigslist. I loved it, but knew it needed to be white.

I never liked the wood decals, so I chiseled them off and got to work sanding and painting. I used spray paint but I always get nervous the overspray will get on the concrete. I thought I was so clever spray painting it on the grass.
I had just finished the final coat and was putting everything away in the garage. Suddenly a huge gust of wind came through and I heard a soft thump. The mantle, covered in wet paint, did a face plant into the grass. I screamed and  when I pulled the mantle up, it was covered in grass..

*re enactment with an adorable actress

Back to square one... Sanded it back down, painted it again but this time in the garage with a big drop cloth.  Lesson learned, and also it looks so much better white.  Here is the before with sweet puppy Zoey...

 And after... notice I took off the foofy wood things on the sides.   

 

Just wait until you see what I did with the Living Room.... I used this as my point of inspiration... 

Intriguing... yes?

Grandpa's Ranch

My dad's house sold today. Affectionately deemed "Grandpas Ranch" by my children, due to the abundance of orange trees on the property.  Every time we visit, their job is to pick a bucketful of oranges each.   I never loved the "Ranch House" it was never my home, but it was my parents retirement home, where they planned to live out the rest of their days. 

My mom is everywhere in that house, so is my dad, their personal touches are everywhere, even with it nearly vacant.   I couldn't get over the empty dining room, my mom had glamorous taste.  When she found a huge carved dining room table that seated 12 without the leaves, she bought it, imagining Thanksgiving dinners with her family gathered around it. She never bothered to measure it.   The table seated 20 with all the leaves, or so we were told, but we never tried it.  Even without the leaves it barely fit in the dining room.   One side of the table had to be seated, then you had to slide the table over to seat the other side.  Once you were seated, you were seated for the rest of dinner.   It was comical, and we laughed about it at every holiday.   Even though the table was too big, my mom couldn't resist the matching sideboard which swallowed up the entire wall, but she loved it.   Now the table rests in someone's home, but the memories will stay with us. 

The strange thing about losing someone is there are always all these chapters that come to an end.  You think, "this is the end of a chapter" when the funeral is over, then you disperse the belongings and think "no wait, THIS is the end of this chapter," but it's not.   Then there is a new marriage, a new wife, the house sells and you think this is the end of this chapter or an era.  But it's not... for my sweet Dad this is not the end, but a new beginning, and he is excited for it.   A big part of me is selfish and wants to keep my dad with me forever, after all, I'm his little girl.  Except, I'm not little, I'm married, I have a family of my own, and I'm not entirely his anymore and he is not entirely mine.  I mourn for my children who are losing a Grandpa who was with them weekly for the last few years, and while there is Skype, email, and the occasional visit, it won't be equal to that one on one time they had.  They will manage, I will manage, it's what we do, keep moving forward, one chapter at a time, because when one chapter comes to an end, a new chapter begins full of possibility.        

The Parable of the Spork

AK ran down the steps of school and animatedly started telling me that the greatest thing happened today at school. She said, "Mom, they have sporks in the cafeteria. And everyday you can take one to keep!"

AK has an unusual adoration of sporks, she thinks they are hilarious. "They aren't a spoon or a fork, mom."

Everyday since then, she has come home with a spork in her backpack and the first day when she was putting it in the utensil drawer, she hovered over the fork slot... Then hovered over the spoon slot... Then deciding neither was adequate she got out a pretty glass and put her spork in a cup on the counter.

I love AK and I love her quirky personality. I love her passion for life and her crazy imagination. AK has always marched to the beat of her drum. I love this about her and in many ways she is just like her beloved spork. Not quite a spoon, not quite a fork, but in a category all of her own.

Football Fever

Every fall I sign up the kids for 200 after school activities and then we kick off the after school schedule and I remember suddenly, "Oh my goodness... that's right I'm terrible at being a responsible mom.  I'm terrible with schedules, school  responsibilities, and homework...   What on earth have I done?"   Isn't this the definition of insanity?  

 

This year Mr. Boy wanted to add football to the mix.  I was very leery, but it's flag football and I thought Mr. Boy would hate it. I was wrong, very wrong.  He loves it, loves the 7am Saturday Morning practices, and counts down the days until his next game.   AK became a cheerleader for his team, a job she takes seriously, along with her doll, so it's like I'm killing two birds with one stone.   

I don't really understand football, but I'm trying.   I sit on the sidelines with Zoey and watch, but there is all these "downs" and the refs keep making all these hand gestures instead of using their words and I'm constantly asking the other mom's "Does that count?"  

When Mr. Man and I were beginning the adoption process, our social worker said, "Well, what are you looking for in a child?  Caucasian, Mixed Race, Gender?"  and Mr. Man jumped in, "An athlete. I just want an athlete.  Even if we could have a biological child, there are no athletic genes. We both come from a long line of uncoordinated nerds.  This is our chance to inject some athletic genes into the family gene pool."   Low and behold, Mr. Boy arrived into our family, descending from very athletic biological parents.  He is a natural out on the field regardless of the sport.   

 

Case in point:   We had only been able to make one practice prior to our first game, but that doesn't matter to this kid.   The game is tied with less than one minute left. Mr. Boy is playing cornerback on defense.  The ball is thrown by the other team and Mr. Boy intercepts the ball at the 70 yard line! He runs it all the way to the end zone...  Game Winning Touchdown!!! 

 

"Wait.. What?  Mom, There is no 70 yard line!  That was the 30 yard line.... seriously, do you even know how to play the game?"  Actually, Son, I don't really know how to play the game, and it was only after bragging to my client about my athletic child that I was corrected that there is no 70 yard line.   How embarrassing!  

 

Oh Mr. Boy, you may be a natural born athlete, but forgive us,  your parents are nerds.