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I Don’t Think?

This past week proved to be a typical winter in the Poconos. Just as we were starting to believe that we got let off easy, winter struck. Arianna had an early dismissal on Tuesday and then was off from school on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. The lovely weather also closed Len’s company on Thursday and Friday and left me unable to send or receive my work via Fedex due to the closure of roads in our area. With the entire family home, work to be completed, sledding to be done, snow thrones to be built, and hot chocolate to be made, our schedules have all been disrupted a bit.

So after an unexpected winter break, I set my iphone alarm last night in order to wake up early enough to get Arianna off to her Odyssey of the Mind practice before school today. The competition is this coming weekend and the pressure is on, especially with the lost days of preparation. My alarm was set for 6:30 and Len’s was set for 7:00. At 6:48 I was grabbed by the arm with a startle. Len said to me in a panic, “Jen, I don’t think you woke up!!!”

“Hmmmmm. Really? What gave that away”, I wondered. “Could it be my body still laying here beside you, sleeeeeeping??”

Despite oversleeping (because I set my alarm for 6:30PM), I woke up laughing this morning. Not only did I wake up laughing, but we made it to Odyssey on time.

Parallel Panic

So, I’m 34 years old and I have no idea how to parallel park, ok? Whatever! It’s never been an issue for me until recently. When I took my driver’s ed. test, we were allowed to fail one thing and that was exactly what I did. Everyone told me how difficult it was to parallel park – even my driver’s ed. teacher. No one bothered to try to teach me and actually I was told that it wouldn’t really be an issue in my life, so I took the “F” in parallel parking, got my diver’s license and moved on with my life.

I know that you’re probably thinking that since I’m currently in the big city of Las Vegas that this parallel parking handicap finally struck me now. No! I just haven’t had the time to share my joyous experience until now. My parallel parking hell struck me in the grand old not so big town of East Stroudsburg, PA.

I was driving Arianna to an after school activity one day, which is on a one way street with only on street parking. It had never been an issue before because the street was not packed, but due to road construction every spot was filled except for one. What did that mean? I had to park in between two cars! OMG! I instantly broke out into a sweat! I put my blinker on and a car came up behind me. I assessed the situation looking desperately for another place to park. There were none. I looked in my mirror again and now there was a car, a bus and then multiple cars behind the bus, just waiting for me to park so they could get by. More sweat…

I rolled down my window when I saw a familiar Mom and reminded her of a conversation we once had about how I’d be screwed if I ever needed to parallel park. I begged her to do it for me. She smiled and said she’d talk me through it. Great! What a fantastic time to be talked through it when there’s a line of traffic behind me!

I pulled forward, put on my blinker, turned the wheel this way and that way and pulled forward and went in reverse and turned the wheel this way and that and pulled forward and went in reverse and turned the wheel this way and that………… for about 7 minutes……

One car drove on the sidewalk to get around me…… but in the end, my car was parked!!!

Yippee for me! Now I just need to find a parking garage near by so I never have to do that again. Hey, I tried it once. That was enough!

My Best Friend

Friendship can be a tough thing sometimes. Over the years I have had many friends come in and out of my life. I have however,  had one long lasting friendship that I am proud of.

We're so odd...

My best friend is somebody that I have a long history with. Somebody I’ve known since I was a teenager. Somebody I’ve grown up with. Somebody that I can laugh with, cry with and just be down right silly with.  My best friend will support me and stand up for me when no one else will.  If we have a small disagreement or a huge blow out, I know that he will be there after the fall out with open arms. I know that my best friend won’t walk away or turn his back on me for any reason. He has been by my side through the absolute best and the worst of my life – picked me up off the floor and glued my pieces back together. Our true friendship is based on love, laughter, support, forgiveness and more love and more laughter.  It’s what true friendship should be all about. My best friend will watch American Idol with me even though he hates it and rub cream on my dry, cold feet!!  He also knows that in the end, I’m always right. (Ok, that part isn’t true. Only mostly true! LOL!)

I’m happy to say that my husband is my best friend. Always will be.  I love you, Babe.

Confidence Problem?

Confidence is one of those attributes I think we all hope that our children have.  As a child, my mother was made fun of because of her glasses, white hair and braces.  She pulled through the pains of childhood and grew into a confident, successful woman.  She was the first woman ever to be hired as an EMT at her place of employment. Breaking into that world of men took guts and lots of confidence.

As a child, I too was made fun of because of my pointy Spock ears, my pointy fangs and anything else those rotten kids could pick apart.  I was shy and unsure of myself, but what I did have were a few powerful, successful women that served as role models for me and helped me to grow into the woman I am today – one of them, of course, being my mother.  I am totally comfortable with who and what I am and where I am in my life right now. 

And then there’s my daughter….

Unlike the prior two generations, Arianna’s confidence issue seems to be the complete opposite of her elders. Let me give you an example.  On the first day of school, the teacher handed out a “Getting to know you” sheet.  You know, they ask questions like “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” or “Do you like sports?”.

Well one of the questions was “What are you most proud of?”  Her response “ME!”  And no, it’s not me, her mother that she was referring to. She is most proud of herself!!  Then she had to fill in “The best thing about me is ….” and her response was “ME!”  No lack of confidence going on in her head.  In her view everything about her is so good, she couldn’t pick just one thing.

Arianna recently started gymnastics.  I was driving her and a friend home from class the other night and listened while she told her friend that she’s close to a back walker over so soon she can learn a back hand spring.  Her friend said, “No fair. You’re better than me and I’ve been doing it longer.”  My daughter looks at her best friend and gleefully responds, “I KNOW!!!  I AM BETTER THAN YOU!” 

I’ve got a problem on my hands over here and it’s most certainly not from lack of confidence!  She’s a wild girl and I am very anxious to see how her life plays out.

In Loving Memory. . .

I cannot believe it’s been 7 years.  So much time has passed that my doctor, my hero, has now retired this year.  Hmmmm.

The following video is dedicated to our unborn Angels and anyone else who can identify.  I would like to thank Holly for introducing me to this unique song that . . . well sums it all up.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Ff5qJrPT7k

In Loving Memory of our unborn Angels – 10/31/01

Happy Halloween Everyone!

Here's the Deal

My friend Robin is going to take some family photos for us tomorrow.  We decided that the three of us would wear blue jeans and a white top.  Robin suggested that we should have long sleeves because elbows don’t photograph well.  That put me in a bit of a predicament, you see.  I don’t own a long sleeve white shirt.  Ok, I do have a long sleeve tee shirt, but that hardly seems appropriate, right? I have white camis, white sports bras, white tank tops and white bras.  Also, not appropriate.  Is it?

So I set out on my mission at 11:00 this morning.  It is now 3:00 and I just got home.  I tried.  I really tried to like what I thought would be appropriate for a family photo.  First I thought I would try on some button down shirts.  Geez, oh man, I felt like I was wearing a smock!  Everyone of them that I put on made me feel like I should be in art class with a paint brush in hand.  So totally not me!

Oh, then Robin asked me if I could bring a pair of high heels.  That was quite a complicated question to answer.  Do my casual shoes with a 2 inch heel count?  How about  stilettos?   Surely that’s gotta be classified as a heel. How’s that for a family portrait?!

So what’s my style, you ask?  I don’t have one.  I don’t know one brand from the next or even care to.  A Walmart purse looks no different to me than a Coach bag.  I like to be comfy and warm.  If I’m not comfy and warm then I’m sure I’m uncomfortable and cold but my boobs look good and my husband is happy.  Well I am neither comfortable nor warm and my boobs looked non-existent in those family appropriate button down shirts!

So I ask the question again . . . What is appropriate attire for a family photo and I only come up with one answer.  It is only appropriate that I be comfortable in what I choose to wear so that I can be myself.  If that outfit is warm and comfy – great.  If I’m cold, but my boobs look great – even better.  I just gotta be me!!!

Watch out Robin!  Here we come!  Are you ready for the challenge of photographing the original Rock Star Family!!

Levitating Trap

I figured since Lenny has lots to say about flying, I would say a few things about it myself. . . 

My family is pretty respectful of my severe dislike of the entire miserable event. (The event of flying that is.) Here are a few rules that are loosely followed by the people I travel with.

 I don’t want to talk about flying once our feet have touched the plane.  I don’t want to discuss how the weather is going to affect the flight or how some of the people look like terrorists. I don’t want to discuss the wings, flaps, pitch and all the crap that Lenny is learning in flight school that keep the levitating trap from hell in the sky!

Arianna sits on one side of me by the window with her headphones on watching movies. Lenny sits on the other side of me with his headphones on watching movies.  I sit in the middle holding  a book and staring blankly at the words.  No one is to talk to me unless they need to pee.  Otherwise there is NOTHING to say until the flight is over.  Although I may not look it, I am very busy up there in the sky.  I am using my energy to help the pilot and God keep the plane in the sky.  I am also deterring any undesirable turbulence from affecting our already hellish experience up there far. far away from the lovely Earth.

Take off and landing are very exhausting for me since I really need to exert my energy then.  During take off I’m sending my magic “go, baby, go and lift off” energy out and during landing I’m using my “nice and easy” energy to help the pilot land softly.  My hands become sweaty during both events.

Here’s a little side note:  I believe it should be against the law for people to wear perfume and cologne on planes.  No one wants to smell you for 5 hours.  It’s sickening.  It’s bad enough that we’re all crammed together with all these burping, farting, coughing, sneezing people! I don’t want any additional, unnecessary discomforts like the stench of bad perfume.  

That’s all I’ve got to say about that!!

My Zero

I remember my father reading a book when I was a teenager that talked about “your zero”. Let’s say you are driving on the highway blasting music happily. You pull up to a toll booth and automatically turn down the music. That is because your “zero” has changed – your point of comfort with the loudness of the music – your point of overall comfort.

That being said, there are two states of being for me that affect every other possible state of being – cold and not cold. We have been here in Las Vegas at our condo since the first of July and I have to say that I AM NOT COLD! I have this lovely pair of overwarn, stained, beloved fuzzy socks that generally protect my feet from weather below 90 degrees. They have been sitting lonely in my bedroom drawer since we got here. It is wonerful!

When I am cold, that means that I am not at my zero.  I am not at my zero when it’s wintery, icey, firgid, cold, cool, chilly, breezy, lukewarm, airconditioned, or anything other than hot.  So that tends to affect my overall day to day being.  If a happy event occurs while I am anything less than “Not Cold” than I cannot be completely happy because I already started at something less than my zero.

I’m not sure if this is what that great thinker had in mind while speaking of one’s zero, but this is how I’ve applied it to my day to day existence.  My zero is my state of being where I am neither hot or cold, sad or happy, angry or elated. It’s where I just am.  When I am regular, average, normal.  You know – living comfortably without straying from the median.

Right now, my veins are popping out of my arms, my feet are warm, my blood is circulating and I am content sitting her on my deck at a comfortable 108 degrees.  I am happy and at MY Zero!!!

What I learned. . .

I have spent a good deal of time with my fellow pisces friend over the past month or so, between Las Vegas and regular day to day life.  In Las Vegas I learned that 2 female pisces are incapable of total and complete relaxation together because the following words with be uttered from one or the other’s mouth repeatedly: “I’m worried that  . . . ” OR the even more popular phrase:  I feel guilty because”!  Between the 2 of us in that little condo of ours, there was more than enough worry and guilt to go around!

Another important lesson that I learned is that when you hang with people that iron obsessively, you look like a total slob! I have always owned and iron, just because I know that I’m supposed to own one.  It looks really nice on the closet shelf.  Kelly and Pat actually used my iron every day and sometimes even twice a day!  In order to appear that we were not homeless people next to them, I was forced to try my hand at ironing.  At one point water started pouring out of the thing uncontrollably and soaking Lenny’s new dress shirt.  It turns out the circuit tripped and that apparently happens to irons. Is this common knowledge or something that I missed growing up?  I guess the iron cries when you lose power or something.  I don’t know.

Yesterday, Kelly and I went to a spin class.  Although that quiet, sweet woman has a couple of  years on me, DON’T let her fool you!!  She spun me under the table!  Today, as I prepare to go to a wedding, due to the merciless pain in my legs,  I am unable to wear heels, so I’ll be going bare foot. I cannot stand up gracefully once sitting and I either need to walk sideways down the stairs or slide on my butt.  Can’t wait to do it again.  Thanks, Kel!!!  :)

"Bye-Polar Kitty"

After months and months of agony, my poor Pepper was put down last night. I would love to tell you that I was strong and rock solid in the waiting room at the Vet, or that I didn’t have snot running down my face and into my mouth as she lay motionless on the table, or that I hardened up in front of Arianna and gave her words of logic and support. I didn’t. I actually stood alone in the Vet’s office shaking uncontrollably and unable to sign my name on the paper for quite awhile. I didn’t cry quietly and beautifully like you see in the movies. My face was red and blotchy, my cries and gasps for air loud and my hands full of soaked tissues.

Now let us pay tribute to Pepper. She was abandoned as a kitten and lived alone under a shed behind Lenny’s family’s store. After much nagging and begging, Lenny caught the kitten one day and brought her home. It became evident early on that Pepper was a special needs kitty and that she had many issues. She didn’t like to be held, or cuddled or pet for too long. She didn’t like noise, or strangers and was mortified by the birth of Arianna. She liked quiet solitude, watching hamsters and squirrels, and she liked me. Oh and she like Lenny to pet her with his foot. Eventually she accepted Arianna too! It took her years to get up the courage to step out onto the deck to lay in the sun. As frightened as Pepper made everyone, she was really the scared one.

Most children were scared of her growl and her ever so welcoming hiss. People called her the halloween cat, evil, crazy and the people at the Vet’s office called her bi-polar (hence the name of my blog. See my play on words? I’m so clever, right?) and schizophrenic. Through my tears yesterday I did have to smile inside when I heard them saying that, because it was so true. All of that was what made Pepper our cat though – and for all that we loved her. She will be missed greatly.