"I can do it myself"

"I can do it myself"
those independent words making my heart swell with pride.
My two year old daughter's favorite saying when attempting some new feat.
Her face beaming with pride when she succeeded.

"I can do it myself"
those independent words bringing me frustration.
In a rush to get out the door, trying to be patient as she ties her own shoes.
I take a deep breath and release irritated sigh.

"I can do it myself"
those independent words forcing me to let go.
She is picking out her own clothes to wear to school.
I choose to say nothing about the plaid shirt with the striped pants.

"I can do it myself"
those independent words filling my head with worry.
Watching her pull out of the driveway on the snow covered roads.
All I can do is pray.

"I can do it myself"
those independent words piercing my heart.
Listening to her news of the plans she has mapped out for her future.
Knowing she no longer needs me.

"I can do it myself"
those independent words making my heart swell with pride.
She is an independent woman. Making her own choices in life.
Realizing that is what I intended for her.

for john

I've had a blog request,

I've only done this once before.

It comes from my bbf Gigi's son.

His name is John.

John sent me some pics to go along with the post.

I think he's hoping to embarrass his little sister.

Actually, he's probably just hoping that she will slow down while driving.

Yeah, I'm sure it's all in love!

So this is for John....

I wrote it to the tune of Gilligan's Island.

I showed it to Mac after I was done and she says she doesn't know the tune.

Ugh! Teenagers!

Well, I'm not changing it now.

so for my teens readers out there...

if don't know the Gilligan's Island theme song then
you're lame click here

ok so here you go John....

* * * * * * *

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
a tale of a fateful leap

That started on a snowy day

aboard this little "heap".

The chauffeur was a mighty driver,

with 11 months under her belt

and a passenger that she picked up that day

offering a ride to help.

she's always willing to help

* * * * * *

The weather started getting warm

the snow turning into slush.

if not for the skillful driving

the little heap would 'of been lost.

the little heap would 'of been lost

* * * * * * *

The heap's aground on some uncharted Pfizer land,
with Marie...

and Mac too...

a couple cute college boys stopping by....

two Pfizer "cops".....

a real close tree,

a helping dad and brother John

here on Pfizer land.

* * * * * * *

So this is the tale of two stranded girls

they were there for a long, long time

they had to make the best of things

because a tow they could not find

The offers of help were plenty

by each good Samaritan passing by

but when they realized how far they were stuck

they only waved and said good bye!

No daddies! No money! No tow trucks!

Don't want to pay for that luxury!

Like two typical teenagers

an accident they could never foresee.

So join me to tell these girls to slow down

and take winter driving seriously.

Because cars and broken tow straps can be replaced

but these sweet girls could never be!

Mac and medicine

I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I haven't blogged about Mac in a while.

Truth is, I was banned.

It seems I may have offended her a couple times.

I apologized, removed the offending posts and tried to be a good blogger mommy.

But yesterday we had another visit to the doctor and my blogging restraint was pushed to the limits.

I should explain.

Every time I bring Mac to the doctor it's sure to be an "interesting" experience. But whenever we go to this "certain doctor" Mac is in true form.

I won't go into any detail but lets just say that we've been to this doctor numerous times since we've moved here and have tried several different treatments that haven't worked.

This doctor loves to banter with Mac. He will say something, Mac will sarcastically respond, he will throw it right back at her and then it's all down hill from there. All I can do is sit back and shake my head. The last time I had to get up and walk out of the room to get them to stop, otherwise, I think we would have been there all day.

In the elevator on the way to his office, I told Mac that I needed to pick up Tony in 45 minutes so I needed the appointment to be short.

Mac says "Oh, don't worry I was planning on keeping it short. I think my humor might be impairing his judgement. I need him to focus and choose the right medicine so I can get better."

Through out the entire appointment I was a little afraid that Mac would interrupt the doctor to say "focus!" because her promise of keeping it short lasted about 2 minutes and the wisecracks were being flung back and forth.

Unfortunately, Mac didn't inherit her quick wit from me and I had trouble just keeping up.

I do remember at one point Mac accused the doctor of trying to kill her and he thanked her for helping him appreciate that he only had boys.

Mac cursed assured him that one of his sons would end up marrying someone just like her.

I managed to snag the prescription between jests and when the conversation turned to Juno, Alaska (don't ask me how it got there, I never said a word) I stood up to leave. The doctor followed us to the check out counter to get in the last jab which I assume is a little unusual due to the surprised look on the receptionists face.

She is due for a recheck in 3 weeks.

I'm beginning to think Mac hasn't been cured on purpose....and I don't know if it's out of vengeance or that he enjoys her company.

I cry over the dumbest things!

I know that I've blogged before about how I'm sentimental about some strange things.

They are actually a couple of my favorite posts.

If you missed them and you're interested (or really bored) you can read them by clicking Here and Here.

But this past week I started to think there is seriously something wrong with me.

I won't go into a bunch of sad stuff but let's just say it was a week filled with things that a normal person would have gone through the Kleenex in bulk.

Not me. I had nothin'.

It's not that I didn't feel anything. I just didn't feel like I could cry.

Then a few nights ago, The Hubby and I were watching TV.

Have you ever seen that show on TLC called Overhaulin?

If you don't know what I'm talking about, they "take" some one's wreck of a car (usually there's some sentimental feeling behind the car) and then they turn it into custom beauty.

http://www.blogcdn.com/www.autoblog.com/media/2006/06/overhaulin01-dok-71-challenger.jpg

And I'm on the couch boohooin' like a baby (and trying to hide it).

Afterwards, I really started to question if there is something wrong with me.

I can't cry at a funeral or with one of my hurting kids but I cry every time I watch this TV stupid show?

I know I've said I'm sentimental about my cars but that's usually because of the memories we've made as a family in them (I think).

It's not because I consider myself a big "car person". I wasn't a "gear head" in high school. I don't really know anything about them. I appreciate their beauty. That's about it.

So why do I have all this emotion around vehicles but not the normal stuff?

http://web.wm.edu/amst/370/2005/sp1/images/lucy%20doctor%20stand.jpg?svr=www

I think I forgot how to take care of babies

I'm watching the twins again today for the first time in over a month.

I'm not sure why but I feel like I'm all thumbs today.

Fumbling like I haven't cared for a baby in 20 years....

Brogan began our day with lots of crying and a colossal-five-wipe-alert messy diaper.

He seemed really mad that it took me so long (like 2 seconds after he started screaming) to figure out he needed changing (hey! I was busy smooching those big chubby baby cheeks....give me a break!). By the time I got out the changing pad, wipes and clean diaper he was furious.

That resulted in him arching his back and kicking and screaming through the entire diaper change.

Due to my five-thumbs-today-handicap I ended up getting "it" all over the place.

I thought I saw a little diaper rash (maybe this is why he's so mad?) so I decided that he needed a little Desitin.

I kinda forgot, a little of that stuff goes a long way and with all the kicking and squirming, the thick white goo ended up on his legs, his chest, in between my fingers and under my nails. I tried wiping it off but that just spread it around. I tried just rubbing my hands together....it doesn't rub in. I think I see some in my hair now.

I had to lay him down to make his bottle which made him even happier and caused Marcus to join in the screaming. The can of powdered formula was bran new and I went to pop the top and it broke off. I had a moment of panic and images flashing in my mind of failing to pry it open, sliced fingers and blood squirting everywhere, screaming hungry babies and a humbling to call Brian and Amber. But the can opener worked just fine on it and all is well.

Of course, they both wanted to eat at the same time so I had my first experience of propping babies, balancing bottles, and tandem burping.

Just as we were finishing up the last few ounces and I swear I hear water running. I have not started any laundry today (I know that when I can actually accomplish something other than childcare on these days...I will be a well adjusted twin babysitter!)

In the past our washing machine hose has broke off and flooded the house and that is the first thing that I think of.

I gather both babies in my arms and run upstairs to check to see if it's the hose or maybe a pipe has burst (been through that too).

The noise seems to disappear upstairs. So we go back to the living room.

I hear it again.

We take a trip to the basement.

Gone again.

Back in the living room I realize it's this stupid thing....

Back in my baby rearing days we didn't have all these fancy noise making motion simulator thingies.

Doesn't he kinda look like Archie Bunker in his old chair?



It was a long day for Ace.
He needs his nap time to be uninterrupted.

I think at one point he purposefully barked to wake the boys up just for pay backs,
and of course I loved every minute of the day....

last vacation post....I promise.

Just a quick post today.

A few more pictures from Cancun

and then I promise not to bore you anymore with my vacay.

my first time ordering Sushi.

it was good!

The Hubby on my favorite hole on one of the golf courses.

going out for dinner....

one of the many gators on the golf course.

I was amazed that some of the staff were diving for golf balls in the same ponds as a couple of these guys. Yikes!

cold but sunny....

so nice to see flowers during the snow months

These animals had a tail like a raccoon and are about the size of a house cat.

One of the staff said they are "like ducks". Didn't really know what that meant till he started to feed one. Suddenly there were about 50 of them coming out of the woods racing towards us.

One of the men that The Hubby golfed with one day told a story about them.

He said they had just got sandwiches from the club's "drink cart" and had left them on their cart to go hit a ball. When they turned around they saw a swarm of them attacking their sandwiches in their cart.

Check out those claws! Duck? I'm not so sure.

the ceiling at the spa...

Have a great day!

ten things I learned on vacation

Our vacation to Cancun was our first experience staying at one of those "all inclusive" resorts. I wasn't sure what to expect but I did learn a few things from it....

1. It is possible to actually eat too much chocolate.

2. One week is not enough time to drink through the entire menu of pool side foofoo drinks.

3. There are crazy people who bring their babies to these places!

4. A one mile walk on the beach only burns about 100 calories, that's pretty much a waste of time when you're eating 10 million calories a day!

5. Speedo's are still popular with some 70ish year old men.

6. There some people with a disproportionate tooth to tattoo ratio who seem to visit these resorts just to be cruel to the staff.

7. Aromatherapy is my new best friend.

8. The chance to win a 50cent plastic Frisbee will cause some people to cheat on the pool side trivia game.

9. If you are just the right size, string bikini bottoms become invisible.

10. I love Mayan coffee!

Have a great day!

flying Forrest Gump style

The Hubby used to travel a lot with his old job. Even though it's nice having him home now, I'm gonna miss all those frequent flyer miles we could use on vacations.

We used up our last free miles for this trip. And there was just enough left over to bump us up to first class....but only on the way there.

I've never flown first class before and I'm sure it probably isn't what it used to be but it was definitely nice to have the big seats, pillows and blankets, "first class" bathroom up front [sure I didn't have to share it with all the other passengers but there's nothing special about it....you can trust my professional bathroom connoisseur opinion].

The best part was getting on the plane first and not having to fight to stow your carry on.

To me, that is the worst part about flying, especially since they started charging to check luggage.

I wish they would start enforcing their rules about carry-on's. You know, one carry on that you can store over head and one you can stow under the seat in front of you. There are so many people who bring two HUGE pieces on the plane, shove them in the overhead compartment at the front of the plane as they head to their seats in the back. Then the people getting on later have no where to put their stuff and end up having to check it anyways.

They need to have the overhead compartments labeled with the seat numbers. You get to put your ONE carry on in that space only. Then have a stewardess at the back of the plane when you board who is watching these people who try and shove coats another piece of luggage up there and say "No I'm sorry, you'll have to check that if it doesn't fit under your seat." They can sit there with it on their lap until everyone else boards and then go to the front and check it.

I know it would take extra time, but it seems like it takes forever the old way with the stewardesses trying to move luggage around in the overheads and shove things in there anyways. We still had a line of poor souls who were the last on the plane and only had one carry on and had to check it.


The last time I flew, I was alone after helping Nae drive out to Colorado for her summer internship. I flew Northwest Airlines. They have this "choose your own seat" boohaha. It was awful. They still assign you a "zone" and a "number". You get called to board by zones then when you get in line they ask you to get in numerical order. I felt like I was in kindergarten again. Of course, I was in the last zone and the last number so I was the last one on the plane.


Our flight wasn't full, which in a "choose your own seat" arrangement is considered a nightmare. Trust me.


I looked down the center isle and there were open seats scattered through out the plane, but with at least one person sitting in each row. I looked into the face of the person sitting next to the first open seat. He was a big man who kinda reminded me of the boy who would throw rocks at me at the bus stop when I was a kid [yeah Kim, you know who I'm talking about :)]. He kinda glared at me and spread his big muscly arms out to demonstrate how my personal space would be violated if I chose to sit next to him.


The next guy who I looked at with an open seat quickly looked away and suddenly developed this phelmy nasty cough that he obviously couldn't possibly cover with his hand if I chose to sit next to him.


There was a woman who was knitting who decided that her yarn needed it's own seat as I passed by.

A teen who threw her legs over the next seat.

Some people didn't do anything but glare at me and give me the "I'll kill you if you take this seat" message.


Even though no one actually said "Seat's taken" I still felt like Forrest Gump on the school bus that first day of school.

And there was no "Jenny" volunteering up a seat.

http://media.photobucket.com/image/forrest%20gump%20images/uploader2010/snapshot20091030063117.jpg

I finally asked the stewardess to find me a seat "or otherwise someone is gonna hurt me".

I'm wondering if the people at Northwest Airlines who decided this "choose your own seat" was a great idea have actually tried it themselves....

I'm still here...

Hi there bloggie friends! It's been forever since I've written anything. Thanks to you guys who are still checking in and for the notes on here and facebook telling me you've noticed my absence.

Christmas was a little rough here. All my kids, except Tony, were going through somethings that tugged on the mama heart strings.

Watching your kids hurt emotionally or physically is the toughest part of parenting. When there's nothing you can say or do to make it better. Knowing that it's part of life and it's theirs, and only theirs to experience and deal with, still doesn't make it any easier to let go.

Oh! How I miss the days of kissing the boo-boo, maybe a band aid, and we could go back to playing again....

But things are better here.

Nae is back at college and actively looking for her summer employment/ internship. She has had a couple phone interviews and we are excited to see where she will end up. We were hoping for something close to Chicago so we could see her more but she has some wonderful opportunities in other areas of the US. I won't lie, I'm thankful that it's the US this year and not Sudan again.

The other kids just finished up their semester exams and are breathing a sigh of relief that they made it through the first half of the school year in their new schools.

The Hubby and I just came back from a vacation in Cancun. Since the new job, The Hubby hasn't taken any time off (it's been over a year and a half I think). He really needed it!

Uncle Mark, The Hubby's bachelor brother took a week of his vacation time, flew up from Hilton Head and stayed with the kids and the puppy (I know! We thought maybe he was drinking when he agreed to do it!). He did an amazing job and the kids loved having him here for a whole week all to themselves.

I have some vacation stories. I'll tell you a quick one today.

We flew from O'Hare to Charlotte, NC then onto Cancun. I've never been to the Charlotte Douglas International Airport before. It was very nice. We came from a dark crowed O'Hare, filled with crabby people in extra long security lines (thank you Mr. Underwear Bomber) where flights were just beginning to be delayed because of a big snow storm--- to a big open cheery terminal in Charlotte, where the main area is full of windows, a man playing a grand piano, and rocking chairs to sit in the sunshine (or giant bean bags chairs to nap in).

But the best part of CLT....the bathrooms! Yes, that's right, the bathrooms. See one thing I haven't told you about myself is that I notice bathrooms. I enjoy finding nice bathrooms. It's kinda like a little treasure hunt. (if you're a long time reader of this blog, you may have noticed this fact in this post) I just didn't admit my gift back then. Yes, it's a gift really. Being able to find these "jewels in the rough" in some unlikely places. I like to consider myself a "Bathroom Connoisseur". I think it comes from my years of camping. My camping friend, Vonda, (and her husband, Dave, who we actually went on this vacation with) and I would try and pick our favorite camp grounds based on the "facilities".

So even though this bathroom wasn't a "jewel in the rough" because the whole airport was nice, I was still wasn't expecting what I walked into.

I happen to walk into the entrance of the restroom with another woman who I didn't know. We came in shoulder to shoulder and the first thing we see is a fancy little "spread" of mouthwash, breath mints, lotions, feminine products and a big tip jar FULL of money. I don't know if it was the shock of us both seeing all that money that stopped us in our tracks or the booming voice of the big black lady saying "Welcome to Big Bertha's Bathroom!!!"

We both hesitated and looked at each other for a second a little surprised. Then "Bertha" shouts at us in her southern accent "Come on, come on in! Don't be shy!" as she is waving us towards the toilet stalls. Then "Bertha" says "Everyone gets a seat in Big Bertha's Bathroom!" and she laughs this deep laugh while showing each of us to our own "seats".

The stall and everything in it was sparkling! And "Bertha" was waiting right there when I opened the door with a rag in her hand for a quick tidy up.

She continued to crack jokes and smile and "encourage" all of us ladies while we were in her domain.

Now I know why that tip jar was so full....and I couldn't help adding to it.