Kitchen Cabinets

Kitchen cabinets can be the bane of my existence many days of the week. I try, I honestly do, to keep them organized. I am not intentionally trying to amputate my husbands finger when he reaches into the "drawer next to the dishwasher" or trying to ruin my 12 year olds life because the field trip paper he needed entered the never never land of the "big" junk drawer.


They tend to get messy when the kids put things away because its usually done in a rush. Now that I find that I am emptying the dishwasher more often than they are I thought I start tackling them. Although I didn't do ALL of the cabinets and drawers, I did organize 2 drawers and 6 cabinets. Here are a couple of before (top) and after (bottom) shots.

"Rubbermaid" cabinet

Small Appliance Cabinets

"Don't amputate a finger" Drawer

That only leaves 13 more cabinets and 8 more drawers to be done. I just hope that by the time I get to them these still look good or at least before the 12 year old brings home the next field trip paper!

Friends with bumps

I have friends. Plenty of them.

Some I see every day. Some I talk to every day. Some I talk to only a few times a year. Some I've had for 25 years.

Today I was with my friend. A "new" friend. By "new" I mean I've known her about 3 years.

She had a bump. 2 of them actually. Growing on one of those parts that only us women have. One is nothing and will go away on its own. The other needed further evaluation. Follow up appointments were scheduled and I volunteered to go with her. I have learned over the years that these appointments are not ones you go to alone.

Back to the bumps. The big one specifically. Big enough that the U/S tech couldn't contain his concern which of course freaked out my friend. She returned to the waiting room visibly upset. I start going through the next few hours in my head. I'll call her husband. I'll call her friends. I'll console and give pep talks. I'll show her the video of R. breaking pretzels that were stuck up his nose with his tongue because its all I had. Yep, I'll do what I have to do to make things "better".

We head to meet with the doctor where I sit behind a curtain jotting down notes while the doctor pokes at the big bump.

She doesn't think its cancer.

Tears gradually go away. Composure is found and a huge weight is lifted.

She gets all the info she can and heads home to wait for the next step.

Friends helped with both of our kids. Friends called as soon as they found out we were back. Friends, not only concerned about our friend, but concerned about me. Totally unselfish. Totally standing at the ready should it have been the dreaded C word.

I never want another friend to go through what my friend did yesterday. The emotions, the fear, the flashing of the future before her eyes. But if they do, I hope they can go through it with friends like mine.

Have I said that I love my friends? Every single one of them even with bumps?

September 11, 2001

There are certain events in everyones lives that you not only remember but remember like they were yesterday. 9/11 was certainly one of them.

Driving down Route 13 after dropping my oldest off at PK. The radio comes on (107.9fm) with breaking news. I call my dad shortly after. He is on his way to a meeting and hadn't heard the news yet.

Drove home and flipped on the news. Sat on the couch in our living room, R. cuddled up in my lap in his teddy bear overalls and we sat for hours. R. never moved. Bethy, my dad, Auntie, Pat & Amy all call over the course of the next two hours.

I run out at noon to pick up A. There is talk between parents but I don't talk to anyone. I just load the boys back into the car and drive home. Want to watch more but how? A. is 4 1/2 and easily scared. What do I say to him to explain the horror unfolding on the screen?

We eat lunch. Left over pasta for the two of us. Oatmeal and papaya for R.

R. goes down for a nap and A. and I start to play with blocks. I had turned the TV on, volume down low, and sat him with his back to it as we built towers. Up he'd build and down they'd tumble. Over and over and over.

The phone rang. It was Uncle S. to tell us he was being deployed due to the happenings of the morning and would I get ahold of his father. I track down his dad, pass along the message and turn back to A.

He is watching the TV. Silent. Still. Staring at the screen. At the recap of the first tower collapsing and of the people running down the street.

I start to cry. My innocent little boy now saw the horror I didn't want him to see but couldn't tear myself away from.

"Have we been there?"

"Yes buddy, a few years ago".

"Why did that building fall down? Can our house fall down?"

He looks up. I should have shut the TV off. He watches as they recap the plane hitting. Oh my god. How do I deal with this. This is not a discussion I want to have with my 4 year old.

I call Chris. We talk for a bit and decide to tell A. bits and pieces in age appropriate ways.

I go back to building blocks. I explain that there were bad men that wanted to hurt other people and took the airplanes to do that. I tell him that it is OK to fly and that I don't think it will happen to any more planes. He is OK with it all. He asks about Uncle S. and I tell him that it is his job to keep us safe. A's mouth is smeared with red pasta sauce. He smiles and says he is glad Uncle S. is strong. His last question was if we knew anyone on the plane or in the building. I told him I didn't think so but I would keep calling Beth to make sure Katie was safe.

R. woke up covered in throw up. I cleaned up but realized when I brought the sheets downstairs that we were out of detergent.

Dinner that night was breakfast. Couldn't pull myself together enough to plan dinner. As I was about to tuck the boys into bed the phone rang in the kitchen, with the long tangled cord, rang. It was my mom, calling to tell me Linda, a friend and team mate growing up, was on flight 11. I traced the pattern on the wallpaper as she told me that her bridal shower had been the Sunday before and that her wedding was next month. I undid the white and blue stripped scrunchy in my hair and put it on my wrist. I fiddled with the invitation to a birthday party that was above the phone. I cried. I was thankful that A. asked me before I knew this if we knew anyone on the plane. Didn't seem as bad telling him I didn't think I did. Now it had hit close to home.

Tucked the boys in that night knowing that this was a day that would change the way in which we lived. The way everyone lived. It was one of the first time I really took the time to think about being "American". To think about what it meant.

Eight years later A. is 12 and has some memory of what has happened. I don't think he remembers that day but I think he has picked up bits and pieces of that day and realizes he was alive when it happened. R. has no memory of it and E. and L. weren't even on our radar yet. A. and I talked about it this morning. What happened, why it happened, who did it, who was on the plane, how I felt and how the country responded. R. listened and asked a few questions. Idiots and stupid heads was his choice of labels for the hijackers. I couldn't reprimand him for using the names that drive me crazy. How could I? He wasn't far from the truth.

9/11/09 was 3 days ago. I don't remember what we had for breakfast. I don't know what R. was wearing (although I could probably guess based upon his "usual" attire lately). I don't remember what we had for lunch, who called or if it was me or Chris that tucked the kids in that night.

It is amazing the details we remember during events that we will never forget. Simply amazing.

Wasted Time

Having something to do helps to pass the time but wasting time, even if it is doing something, annoys me.

Chris' birthday is on Thursday. He'll be the big 37. He wants a panini maker. Its the first idea he has given me in a long time for any holiday/birthday so I happily oblige.

I do my research online. I find out the local stores that carry the brand I want. Their websites list the brand and model. I head out on my mission because after all, I wait until 2 days before his birthday to start shopping.

Store 1....Right brand but only the "higher" model which is double the price and not as great reviews.

Store 2....Wrong brand but a few in the price range of the one I was looking for. Decide to keep looking as I want a good one....not one that works until just out of warranty.

Store 3....Nada.

I'm out of luck and out of time for the day. I decide that it would be worth it to spend a few extra bucks on shipping and just order it from Amazon.com. Placed the order at 3:30pm with overnight delivery (and a free trial of Amazon Prime).

7am the next day I get 2 shipping notices.

Yes, that is right. 2 notices.

I need one machine.

I only have one husband.

Call Amazon.com. They happily help. I decide I am not wasting my time waiting for FedEx to arrive so I post a note on the door and go on my day. They don't come while I'm gone. I'm about to step into the shower when I can hear the truck. Throw my clothes back on, run down, refuse 1 package, tell him to turn around on the lawn and go back to my shower.

Now, if I had ordered online in the first place I would have saved about 3 hours of shopping. If I had paid attention and checked the original receipt that was emailed I would have saved time calling and waiting for Fedex. Why can't I figure out a way to make better use out of my 6 hours of "free" time? That just annoys me.

End of "week" 1

Week 1 was 3 days long. Today they climb off the bus to a 4 day weekend.

I survived.

They survived.

I like having some of the time to myself but not 6 hours.

We'll see what week 2 brings........

reality

Reality has hit and it has hit hard. Yesterday was not the typical first day of school. Shortly after the kids left I had to delivery birthday snack, run an errand for a few more gifts, cover lunch/recess duty and not even 30 minutes after getting home from that A. was off the bus and walking down the driveway.

Today is reality. Today I get my haircut with no worries. No dragging kids along to sit and complain while my tresses fall to the ground. No worrying whether or not I'll be back in time for the bus. Today, for the next 6 hours it is me and me alone.

A. got on the bus for the first time back in 2002. I was pregnant and huge with E. and L.. R. was only 2. It was a big day. My husband stayed home to make sure A. actually got on the bus. I had fears that he wouldn't get on alone. After all, my mom rode the bus with me on my first day of K. I'm sure my oldest would need me just as much.

He didn't. The bus pulled up and off he went. I cried. He waved and laughed.

Every year since then would turn out to be the same. Me in tears, them waving and laughing.

I look forward to the bus pulling up to the driveway every afternoon. I love hearing their stories about their new friends, their teachers, how lunch was, how they missed me. I look forward to that today. But in the meantime I will take my new reality and go eat breakfast. By myself. No sharing. No interuptions. Just me and my bowl of Lucky Charms. Maybe after that I'll take a shower. No little girl sitting on the edge of the tub trying to have a conversation with me about how your hair grows, how people get fat, and if she'll ever have "buubs". Just me. ALONE.

me REALized

Today is a new day. A different day.

I lay in bed this morning, counting down the minutes until the alarm screeches me out of bed, and reality hit.

September 1st, 2009

The first day of school.

Our 13th Wedding Anniversary

A 10th Birthday

The first day of school. For all of them. ALL day for ALL of them.

I've been a mom for 4,537 days. A stay at home mom for four thousand, five hundred and thirty seven days. That is 108,888 hours. I can probably count on both hands the number of days in the last 12 1/2 years that I have been without my kids. What will I do for close to 35 hours a week without them?

I will REALize me.

I need an outlet, a place to look back, to put things into perspective, to rant, to rave, to cry, and to remember, to look to the future and to enjoy.