On Our Way

So, we are about to leave the house and travel to my parents for the night. In the morning we are off to the airport for the big trip. We are very excited, of course. My sister and I have not called each other so much since.... I don't when! My mom is incredibly anxious and I think our three husbands are just along for the ride! No, they are excited too. Most of us are just eager to see the kids faces light up when they enter the park for the first time.

So, I will take a bagillion pictures and share the best with all of you when I return. I might surprise you with a Disney World post while we are there, so check in and visit every so often. Bye! I miss you already...

Count 'Em!

Eight pieces all together.
The rundown:
4 pieces to be checked
3 pieces to be carried on
1 bag (black w/tan straps) for tomorrow night





Or, in the eyes of a one year old, an indoor playground.

Still not packed: blankets/bears kids sleep with, toothbrushes, makeup, my sanity.

Unrelated (But Cute) Photo

While shopping today, a man in his late forties or early fifties passes me with a boy about three years old sitting in his cart. My older girls are walking on either side of my own cart and the baby is in the front. He says, "Oh! You've got your hands full." This is a comment I get at least once each time I have all three in public. I smile and then he says, "I feel bad for you, ma'am." I am taken aback, but say "Oh, I'm fine." Miss looks up at me and asks what he meant. I told her I wasn't sure, but that I guess he thinks three kids is a lot or something. How odd! If the girls were in the middle of a tantrum, or throwing up, or begging for toys maybe I could see his statement but my kids are good in the store. They know not to ask for anything because I will not buy it. I also timed the outing to be nap friendly for Baby. Don't you think it was rude of him to say that to me, especially in front of the kids? And by the way, three kids is not a lot of kids. I guess if you have none, or one, it would seem to be a lot but after you have two kids, any more then that just go with the flow. Actually, the more kids you have, they tend to entertain each other and therefore lessen your load. Dumbass.

Hip, Hip, Hoor- I mean BOO

For some reason last night, my hips were killing me. I mowed almost all of my parents lawn, couldn't finish due to the hips, but other then that I didn't do anything weird. There was no odd weather to creep into my bones. It really depressed me. Usually I can pinpoint a reason for the ache: too much walking, crummy weather, jumping off the deck. (ha) Most of my readers know I was born with my hips dislocated, but day to day I don't feel any side effects from it. Not even through three pregnancies. I know I will have to have surgery again for replacement someday, the doctor guessed in my forties, but I still dread every time I feel the pain thinking "This is it! I will have pain everyday until that replacement!" Last night I got home around five, made dinner for the kids and did not much else. When Mr got home around seven I went and laid down for a while. About a half hour later he brought me some Tylenol. When I got up to kiss the kids goodnight, I took a OTC sleeping pill because I knew there would be no rest otherwise. I did sleep OK, but this morning my knees hurt! I guess it is old age, nothing more.

I Spy, With My Little Eye...

A deer!

On our way to the Tball awards ceremony, this beauty was walking across the road ahead of us. Just taking her own sweet time. She even stopped for me to get a picture with the window rolled down. I don't know if it is a she, but I'm going to call her a she.

I had every intention of blogging about the awards ceremony, about how happy I am that Tball is now over. Maybe I was going to recap for everyone how short ten weeks sounds at the beginning of the season, but in reality it is almost the length of a trimester of pregnancy. Except at the end of the season all you get to show for it is a washed out shirt and a plastic trophy instead of a baby bump and strange cravings. Anyway, this little girl was wondering the street, carefree and relaxed. Not jumpy or skittish at all. Just the way I hope to be now that everything is ending. Preschool: done. Dance: done. Brownies: done. Tball: done. First grade: Hours from being done. Soon, you just might see me wondering the street, pleased as punch. Heck, I might just be sipping some punch too. I might even strike a pose for you to take my picture. Know why? Because I will have nothing to do. No schedule. Everything will be OVER! I will be just like the free and wild deer. (OK, OK, I will stop being kooky now.)

whatever

What I 'made' for dinner tonight.

Snippets of Summer

Swings...





Surprises...

Salads.

Letting Kids Be

As the weather is always nice now, and Miss is seven and a half, I can't stop thinking about my own childhood. I compare the things she does, to those I did around the same age. I lived in a two story apartment complex comprised of seven separate buildings spread out the distance of a half mile or so. There were always kids to play with and most parents would look out for the kids near them and report back to the kids' owners or just yell at them themselves. My mother had rules for me of course: back by dinner time, back before dark, who was I with?, no going into anyone else's place without asking her, and no eating food from anyone without asking her first. I obeyed those rules. Most of the kids had similar rules so I guess there wasn't any temptation for us. We rode our bikes, played tag, jumped rope and there were many rounds of hide and seek. In the winter we went over to each other's homes or went sleigh riding. That was my childhood. Normal to the extreme. Nothing traumatic ever happened to me or anyone I knew, no pervert approached us and no kidnapper attempted to steal us.

Miss, and the other mice, have a completely different childhood. I am home with them like my mother was, but they have no neighborhood. We live in an extremely rural speck of the world, and there are no kids ringing our doorbell asking them to come out to play. There are no Good Humor trucks driving around ringing their bell. There are no sidewalks. There is nothing but us. They have a better life in many ways, the woods are an endless playground and teacher all through the seasons. We can let them run outside anytime of day and know they are in the yard somewhere. There are no kids stealing our toys or breaking them, for that matter. Life is very fine for my kids, but very different from my own.

When we are in a more populated area, I'm very watchful and always present. I wouldn't take them to a park, then go sit under a tree to read. I am constantly roaming and counting their three heads over and over. I know at seven and a half I was riding my bike down the street, out of view from my mom and never was there a problem. I came across this lady a while back and can't stop thinking about her. She let her nine year old take the subway home alone and she got major flack for it. I can't imagine doing that, yet there are people that probably can't imagine my letting the girls outside alone either. We have wild animals! What if something attacks them!! Now, if I lived in NYC and raised my children there, that would be my backyard, right? It would be the kids backyard too. They would know it inside and out, be most comfortable on the streets and be familiar with the transportation systems as well. I still can't imagine letting my nine year old do that, but who's to say?

I am not the only mother that is more protective then her own was. Other moms in Miss's school take it even further than I do. For example, when dropping Miss off to school I drive through the parking lot loop, let her out, watch her walk into the building and then leave. Other parents park their car, get all the kids out (younger siblings that don't go to school yet) and escort their child to the lobby. Parents aren't permitted down the hallway to the classroom, so they then turn around, and get everyone buckled back in the car and leave. Winter, snow or rain. Now, to me that is insane. We are on school property, the kids go right down to class and there are teachers, aides and school personnel everywhere ensuring the safety of the students. What do they think will happen in the 40 feet from the car to the lobby?

Contrarily, there is a little boy in kindergarten that has been riding his bike to school since the weather got nice. He pedals as fast as he can, (wearing his helmet) and I just recently noticed he lives a short distance from the school. At first I was amazed that his parents would allow him to do that, but now I'm thinking it might not be so bad. There comes a time when you must give your kids some freedom to do things so that they know they can do them. If you stifle or supervise every nuance of their day, will they ever believe that they can accomplish things on their own? Instead of feeling loved and protected, will they end up feeling insecure and inferior when we aren't there? There is a fine line here, and I don't want to overstep it. At each age there will have to be less of me around but the hard part is knowing which activity to back off of, and which I should be fully present for.

Hello & Goodbye

Middle was finding lots of toads this morning, maybe because the weather was raining off and on. I think toads like weather like that. Baby Mouse, a girl after my own heart, was tiptoe dancing around saying "Ewww, Ewww!" while Middle held, played and teased the toads. She wouldn't touch them, but couldn't leave either.

Hello, horny toad!

What was I doing during all the toad finding? I was removing some junk from the house. I encountered some problems along the way though. The monster sized stereo we have was plugged in way behind the 10,000 pound entertainment center, so I called Mr. to see if I could cut it without getting shocked. Ummm, no. OK then, I used the horse-on-a-stick toy to push down the reset button on the power strip, cut the stereo cord, then pushed the button back on. I know. I'm a genius.

Goodbye, dinosaur age electronics!

Then I couldn't remove the carpet that the washer overflowed on downstairs because of all the heavy wire rolls on one edge of it. Again, I call Mr to see if there is some kind of large exact-o knife around here. I could sense he was busy at the time so he quickly answered me (No, of course) and got off the phone. I used my kitchen shears and dragged that heavy ass carpet from downstairs, around the house and into the truck. It might not appear heavy, but let me just say, it was. Never underestimate the weight of a carpet remnant laden in dirty laundry juice, OK?

Garden! : Update

We're doing pretty good on the gardening front! Everything seems to be healthy and happy and green, so that rocks. All I do is water it nightly but it does need to be weeded right now. I also need to stake the tomato plants, so I will do those things before we leave for Disney.




I have been meaning to get a picture of the project Miss brought home from school a couple of weeks ago because it is hysterical! It is a piece of cut pantyhose filled with sawdust, twisted to make a nose and sprinkled with grass seed at the top. Then they made glasses out of a pipe cleaner. I still giggle every time I see it.

She's A Killer...

..Queen..

Miss on Youtube.

Miss is so into the band Queen, it is becoming comical. It started several months ago, around Christmas maybe. She heard the song Killer Queen somewhere and loved it. When we told her about the band and let her hear some of their other songs, she got more and more infatuated with Freddy Mercury. While trapped in the house during the long winter months I would let her see and hear him on Youtube. A couple of months ago we bought a second hand CD of the best of Queen for her, and she listens to it on the way to school in the car. Now, months later and many plays of the CD, her and Middle know most of the lyrics to each song. It is funny to see and hear her so involved with a seventies supergroup. There is no doubt they were all extremely talented, and boy could he sing! I wonder how old she will be when she delves deeper and discovers the story behind the frontman. His tragic death, and the tribute concert held after his passing. For right now though, when any given song comes on she informs me, "Mom this is when he had a moustache." Or "He had long hair when he sang this." Now she has memorized the mans' eclectic styles through the years and can even remember the song where he wore a big furry coat on stage! The good thing is I like Queen too, (not as much as her) so I don't mind hearing this over and over!

B-B-B-B-Bubble!

If your kids are driving you crazy this summer, and are complaining about how bored they are, try using a bubble machine. The awe and amazement is spectacular! Try to pop them all! Try to eat them! Try to run after them to see how long they will float!




Dance in the bubbles! Jump in the bubbles! Point to the bubbles in the tree branches!

It will kill about seven minutes of boredom. I know, I know. I only need to fill the other 90,720 minutes of summer.

Just Call Me Betty Crocker

Eric won't be home at dinner time, but he still likes dinner. I put chili in the crock pot and brewed some sweet iced tea. He will end up eating it whenever he gets in as well as take them for lunch tomorrow.





I had a couple of handfuls of strawberries to use, so I made strawberry bread. I made it last year and it was just OK. I used a different recipe today and it was very good. I had some leftover batter that wouldn't fit in the bunt pan, so I made a few strawberry muffins. I had some very ripe bananas so I made a few loaves of banana bread. I hate to throw out food, especially fresh food! They would have gone in the garbage tomorrow for sure as the kids will not eat them when they are so mushy.





Above on the left are the strawberry muffins, and on the right are blueberry muffins. Hey, if the muffin pans were out, why not?



Now, you are jealous! Chocolate chip cookies and they are good baby! I have to eat the broken ones, because the kids won't and the smooshed ones are not too popular either and like I said, I hate to throw food out. Now I should go wash my kitchen floor. What do you think the chances are I do that?

Happy Father's Day

Hope all you dads out there had a nice day today. Our weather sure was accommodating for any outside activity. Or maybe, like my husband, who has been working ten hours plus, 6 or 7 days a week, you just lounged around inside. Either way, hope you were appreciated today. I took some pictures of my two oldest girls this afternoon, about thirty minutes after I said they could use the sprinkler. They used the sprinkler to soak themselves, then started digging in the dirt and then they started chucking the wet dirt at each other. They are practicing for professional mud wrestling competitions, I guess. I had no idea this was happening because I just finished mowing the yard and was then preparing dinner. Anyway, they called me to the door and greeted me with muddy hands, hair and clothes. The pictures? Oh, well you know how I told you my camera wasn't feeling so great? Yeah, the pictures didn't come out because apparently the lens cap never opened when I turned the camera on. Nice. I'm sure you can use your imagination though. Now use your imagination and try to picture the floor of my bathtub after their shower. Yes, it was brown and gritty. What sucks about that is I had just cleaned the bathroom about five hours earlier. I know now that parenthood is like going in circles. You just continually circle the house/yard/car and pick up, put away, wipe down, disinfect and repeat.

Tiny Dancer

Blue jean baby, l.a. lady, seamstress for the band

Pretty eyed, pirate smile, youll marry a music man

Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand

And now shes in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand




Piano man he makes his stand

In the auditorium

Looking on she sings the songs

The words she knows, the tune she hums

Hold me closer tiny dancer

Count the headlights on the highway

Lay me down in sheets of linen

You had a busy day today

Blue jean baby, l.a. lady, seamstress for the band

Pretty eyed, pirate smile, youll marry a music man

Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand

And now shes in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand



Elton John

From 1 - 10

How white trash am I for filling in the scuff marks on her tap shoes with a Sharpie? I'm thinkin' 8.

Yes!

I survived eleven seven year olds for our Girl Scout movie night! Actually, I had nine seven year olds, one five year old and Middle, four. We had fun playing outside, a movie, dinner, junk food, a fire, and ice cream. Lots of laughing and playing. Tomorrow is recital, and I just know I should have bought waterproof mascara. I almost started bawling during rehearsal.

Sad News

My camera has been knocked off a table one too many times. The last spill happened at the park on Tuesday. I can still take pictures, I just can't see what I'm taking. There is no more viewing through the screen, it is all fuzzy and white now. I have been talking and dreaming of this baby, but holy dollars Batman! Mr. says to just go get it, like it is a toy out of the 25 cent machine at the grocery store. And, if I can't be careful with this cheapo one why should I trust myself/kids not to ruin a more expensive one? I guess I will be using a disposable at the recital on Saturday. Any one have a camera they just love, and recommend? Oh, this is a picture I took just to see if it still worked:

Now you know what my knife holder looks like.

When All Else Fails...

...post a picture of your baby.

This has been the worst week yet as far as commitments. Monday - Friday there are things keeping me away from home from 7:30 am till 7:00 pm or later. This is the end of the super crazy schedule though, because Middle's last day of preschool is tomorrow, and today was her last day of dance class. Tonight she had rehearsal on the stage, and Saturday is her recital. Next week we have two Tball games and Miss has regular school but no 'extras' to speak of.

I just come home, glance at the shit strewn about the house and cringe. Novella constantly asks, "How do you do it? How can you be that busy?!". The answer is, I cannot do it. There are too many things and I am dropping the ball every which way. Shall we go through the list together?

• Laundry - out of control. Some may be clean, but it is not put away.
• Dishes (dirty) are piled in the sink.
• Dust bunnies are abundant, I am thinking of naming them.
• My vacuum is having a tizzy fit, so that isn't being used.
• My front glass door has so many smears from greased up bug sprayed hands and arms pushing on it, it looks like funhouse glass.
• I did change the sheets yesterday, so I feel OK climbing into bed.
• Let's not even venture outside. My grass is almost to my knees. That is not funny. My orderly neighbors (hi Jen) must cringe driving by my house.
• I never spring cleaned this year, so the curtains, walls, ceilings, under the furniture and all the bonus places are totally plagued.

Don't think I don't know that I just sat here for fifteen minutes and could have put some of that laundry away. I know, I know. It is so much easier to whine about it though.

Hot

Wow, it feels like we are living in Arkansas again! I can't believe how hot it has been the last few days, and it is just the beginning of June. We had a bad storm last night, and now the humidity is gone and the temps aren't supposed to be bad today. I let the kids run through the sprinkler and fill the kiddie pool and use lots of ice cubes and ice pops and crystal lite was getting used by the gallon and I said a little prayer that we live in the North for the summer. These hot days would be nonstop for more then four months in Arkansas and THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is what I have to remember in the cold bitter months of winter here in New York.

What Do You See?

Mighty Mouse

I've been a parent for over seven years. I have three active kids. I guess I should feel lucky, (proud even?) that this is the first black eye in my tenure as mommy.



Don't ask me the details of exactly how it happened, because I was fighting the war on laundry at the time and only have Middles' version of the truth.

Apparently they were playing sweetly together, not a care in the world, and the baby fell into the edge of the wall. Her story doesn't change no matter how often or who asks her. My mom thinks it looks cute. I think I will be cringing when I have to take her in public on Tuesday, because you know what everyone will be thinking, "Oh, she beats her kids." I wish!

Catching Up

I truly believe that I will not fully catch up to myself until about a week after we get back from Disney. Life is busy and that is that. I have many things to post about, yet not the time to do it. After all, I need to watch my stories and eat my bon-bons! (HA!) On Thursday Middle found an itty bitty caterpillar and introduced Baby to it. Baby was amazed and also disgusted at the same time.











She looked at it and said "Ewwwww. Ewwwww. Ewwwww." Over and over. But she couldn't resist touching it - while being repulsed! It was cute.

Also, can you guess where I was today? I cut off my right arm, handed it over, and entered the place that enrages me so - yet I buy the girls and myself a pass each year. On the one hand, I HATE (a word I tell my girls not to use, but cannot think of any other way to put my feelings for this place) the establishment and on the other hand it saves us from boredom each summer. If I have to go grocery shopping, I might swing by for two hours or so, and if we have a slow week in the summer, it is something to occupy our time. I go enough to pay for the passes and then some, but I really can't stand the corporate feel to the place.

The new thing about it I hate this year? The large refillable mugs I purchased, after being told they were accepted each season, were no longer legitimate. Now I have to buy a new mug(s) each year, at $13.99 a pop, if I want to buy drinks with 99* refills. When I purchased the ones I have, they were $8. I think I popped a vein when I found out!

Miss?

It is so odd, to look up and see your baby- knowing it is your baby- but seeing her in a different form.




To look in her eyes like you have done 7 million times before, and see those eyes as those belonging to your infant baby girl yet also in a face that is so much different. The same, yet different.



How easy it is for me to look at her and see her sitting on my hip, as we walk to the mailbox. To remember how she would nestle in so perfectly to my side as we slept together there was no doubt that she was made to fit there.

I can look at her now, at seven and see her at seven months so easily. But at seven years old, I can look at her and also see her at twenty, grabbing her car keys on the way out the door. Flipping her hair out of her face to put on her sunglasses. How strange, to see her as she is, as she was, and how she will be all at the same time. Her seven year old face showing me glimpses of the past and of the future all at once. Seven is good for that.

Blurry

These came out so blurry, but it's all I got! We had eggplant Parmesan for dinner and it was yummy. So easy since I cook the sauce in the crock pot all day. All I had to do was was cook the eggplant and pasta.







Isn't it fun to dress a baby up in adult clothes? Babies and dogs. Hmm. I wonder why it is so funny? Or is it just us? Anyway, as I was cooking dinner, I hear Mr. say "Go show mommy." So I knew right away it was something gross or funny. In she walks wearing my bra and caressing it. So funny! Miss said we should send it to America's Funniest Videos.

Baby Boss

Me: Hi!
Her: -
Me: I like your house!
Her: no.
Me: Can I come in?
Her: No.



Me: What are you doing?
Her: (Gives me the above look) no.
Me: Do you have chalk?
Her: No.
Me: Are you having fun in there, I want to come in.
Her: (Slams the plastic door) Dop it. (stop it)
Me: Wah, wah! Can I come in?
Her: (another look) NO!
Me: Where's Middle?
Her: NO!!

Me: I'm taking your picture.

Her: Babble, babble, babble, dop it, babble, Eat! No! babble.

Me: Wow. That's nice.

Her: NO, NO, NO!

Me: I love you...

Her: (holding up a piece of chalk) Babble, babble YOU! ... NO!

Me: OK, well I'm going to go now, bye!

Her: (happy) BYEEEEEEE!

I'm 'It'

Julie tagged me. I was just sitting here, thinking of what to write today and checking my email, and now I have my answer. I will answer her questions, and call it a day.

WHAT WAS I DOING TEN YEARS AGO?

I was married and working full time.

5 THINGS ON MY TO-DO LIST TODAY:

This is my home day, so I - the queen of list making - didn't make a list for today. However I did rake out under the deck, vacuum, dust, did two loads of laundry and had a 20 minute conversation with the Frontier man. It is only 1:45 so I will inevitability do more today.

THINGS I WOULD DO IF I WERE A BILLIONAIRE:

1. Nothing.
2. Everything.

PLACES I HAVE LIVED:

Westchester, NY
Alexander, AR
Adirondacks, NY

Snacks I like:

This could be a never ending list, but I will just say anything sweet.


Have a good day everyone! Let's pray for rain tomorrow so I don't have to bring Miss to Tball. She all of a sudden HATES! it.

Eric & Rebecca, Sitting In A Tree...

K-i-s-s-i-n-g

Twelve years ago today, I got married. Twelve years ago today. There are many pictures of us I could have pawed through to display our life together, but I had a better idea. It means going back in time, more then twelve years back. Let's go about nineteen years back...

I am fifteen and I'm in love! I first saw Eric a few months ago while I was sitting on the gym floor, waiting for coach to take attendance. She hadn't closed the gym doors yet, so when the building's outside door opened I naturally looked up. In walked a guy I hadn't yet seen since I started high school two months ago. I knew he couldn't be in my grade because I would have seen him in the many freshmen orientations I've been to. I watched as he steadily walked by me, his hair still wet from a shower, a flannel shirt over his t-shirt and a pair of jeans that were ripped in places. He had a couple of textbooks in his arm that he carried down by his leg. There was just that something about him that hit me, his appearance for sure, but something else. He was late to school, but didn't seem bothered by it. He had books, but they looked like props not things he actually needed or used. His walk was relaxed and not at all cocky like most of the guys had. He had no idea I was watching him, and it took everything I had not to get up and go to the door to continue my observations.

It didn't take long for me to figure out his name. Once I saw him, I continued to see him every so often. He was a sophomore, he didn't drive, and everyone seemed to know him. I stupidly told a friend about the guy I was crushing on, and that is all it took. Not too much time went by and he knew how I felt. I had never talked to him, or sat near him or hung out with any of his friends. I, for some reason, just adored him! My heart would pound and feel like it fell into my stomach when I saw him walking down the hall. I could feel my face get hot and red and I would try to walk a different hallway if I knew I would run into him head-on. I wanted to be behind him, so I could watch him walk and interact with people and most importantly, find out where his locker was! Finally, about a month later, his friend Mike, (whom we are still friends with) got a hold of me in the library. He sat down with me and my friend Janette, and said "You like Eric Lastname?" I was afraid to admit it to him, I knew he and Eric were good friends from my endless hallway stalking, so I looked at Janette with fear and she said "Yes! Yes she looooves him!" Mike then said, "Eric is here, come over and meet him." Oh my GOD! At that moment I needed a rag to wipe the sweat from my body and felt like I needed to poop! The next thing I knew, I was face to face with HIM, my imaginary boyfriend, the guy I obsessed over during my every. waking. hour. I can't remember a bit of that conversation. All I remember was Mike disappeared as soon as he escorted me over, and Janette was long gone. Probably spreading the word over school what I was doing. Anyway, we talked, and from then on whenever we passed each other, we both had that look of fear and embarrassment. Eventually we exchanged phone numbers and even met at a house his friend lived at. That was it. No, " Will you be my girlfriend?" or "This is my girlfriend, Rebecca." It was just a known fact. We both knew it. The whole student body knew it. The janitors knew it. (Caught us kissing in what we thought was a deserted exit doorway.) It was just fact. Everything was glorious, until I was scheduled for bilateral hip surgery. I had to have it done - my hips were killing me and the specialist warned that eventually I wouldn't be able to walk at all if left undone. I was nervous for the surgery, of course, but even I knew, at age fifteen, an absence of a few months of school could really endanger a relationship. So, I have the surgery, get home, and talk on the phone all the time. I go to physical therapy and talk on the phone. That's it. A couple of my friends stop by, a tutor is hired and the phone calls with Eric. That was my life at that point. Then, one Friday night, my doorbell rings. It was Eric! He came to visit even though he is thoroughly anti parent - anti adult! He brought me a soft furry bear with a leather nose. The tag said Creampuff and it was made by Russ. I was so happy. He still likes me! He misses me! He bought me a bear! I have slept with Creampuff ever since.

I have slept with Creampuff in my bed since that night when I was fifteen, wheelchair bound, and lonely for my boyfriend. I have calculated that I have lived in seven places since Eric gave it to me and it has been in each place. We broke up for a while and still, I had Creampuff. When we were separated by many states, I had Creampuff. Each baby I brought home from the hospital, has had her infant self photographed next to Creampuff. My mom was visiting us in Arkansas once, and picked it up with two fingers and said "What is this!" I was amazed she couldn't remember! Surely she saw him bring it to me! Surely she remembers it on my teenage bed! He looked a little damaged by that point, I admit, but still!

In what I feel to be a huge romantic gesture, about ten years ago, Eric searched ebay and found a brand new Creampuff. I was aware that he was trying to find it but had no idea he would end up paying sixty dollars for it! Someone else in cyberspace was competing for my Creampuff! As you can see, they were defeated. I keep Creampuff 2.0 on my bedside shelf, but the original is still in my bed. Sure, I could retire my mushy, stained flattened bear and use the newer one. But why? He smells just right, feels just right and I can't imagine replacing him just so I could have a newer model. Just like Eric and me. We could have given up tons of times. Tossed each other aside, found someone newer, prettier and less bedraggled, but they just wouldn't fit. They just wouldn't have the right lumps and bumps. Most importantly, they wouldn't have the history of our lives, good and bad, cried into their deepest fibers.

Happy anniversary, Air Shemair.

@#%* Frontier!

I am going to try to write a real post today, but my internet service is all wanky again. My computer is fine, but the service into the house is a mess, just like last summer. They are coming tomorrow to work on the lines, HA!, and then we will see. But until then, my ability to log on is spotty and unpredictable. See ya later - hopefully!