say a little prayer...

I'm not really all that religious. I wasn't raised in a religious household. We didn't attend church, although, I have been baptized, and confirmed, we aren't very "organized religion" religious. I was raised with "faith". Faith that things will work out the way it should, faith in yourself, in your abilities and that you are innately a good person. Growing up I was taught about religious freedom and that it was okay to adopt theories, faiths, feelings from many religious sects. I have faith in a variety of theories. (It helped my religious beliefs tremendously that I was a religion major in college).

I've done some super questionable stuff in my life, questionable to the point where I am ashamed and embarrassed and have to live with the sick feeling in the bellows of my belly. With all that though, I have faith, faith that there's a lesson to have been learned (I only wish I learned the lesson sooner, or the first time I fuck shit up). I only hope the people I hurt forgive me, and learn from my mistakes. I have faith that they will, over time of course.

Some lessons I have learned through my "faith" is to trust my first instinct, rather than giving people the benefit of the doubt in hopes that they won't turn into what my belly is instinctively telling me. I've learned that you can't always get what you want, but sometime, you"ll find you get exactly what you need without ever even knowing it (thank you Mick Jagger for that ever reverberating lesson), just have that faith. I've learned that I'm fortunate. One of my favorite quotes of all time is from Lemony Snicket: "It is a miracle if you can find true friends, and it is a miracle if you have enough food to eat, and it is a miracle if you get to spend your days and evenings doing whatever it is you like to do, and the holiday season- like all other seasons- is a good time not only to tell stories of miracles, but to think about the miracles in your own life, and to be grateful for them."

I've been focusing on my faith and my own miracles, and as much as I complain, and say ridiculous things about RB, and as unhappy I have every been with him, I'd be terribly unhappy, miserable, and completely dysfunctional without him, it's a miracle that he still loves me. It's a miracle that I have parents that love, treasure and take care of me more than they ever should despite my nasty attitude, or questionable behavior. It's a miracle that my family deals with me, feeds me, loves me, and helps to take care of me. It's a miracle I have a job where I have trusted colleagues. My very existence is a miracle.

With all that being said, pray for me, and for those I love and know, and in return will pray for all of you, that you too, can find faith, and miracles in your everyday lives.

Cheers to Health, Wealth, Faith, Miracles and Happiness in This New Year and Every Year Thereafter! 

13.1?

So, for the last few years I have been trying to learn how to run. I'm not quite there yet, small steps though. I often go out and tell myself, "one foot in front of the other". It makes total sense to me why people have always liked running. It's cathartic, soothing, and relaxing. The pounding on my body is anything but; it's painful, tight, and sometimes nauseating.

I decided that since I have a prep every day right after lunch, I would go for a "run" at lunch. sure, it's awkward for my colleagues to see me every day in running tights, and be sweaty till I get to go home, but it certainly helps me deal with the "stress" of the kids. plus my route is a pretty one.

I started over two months ago, and on average I do a 5k each time I head out. I have been adding time on two of the runs during the week and I get somewhat impressed with myself when my average mile pace drops. I usually hope to negative split the miles, and I come close, if not succeed every time.

My average pace for the last two (plus) months has been 12:17 per mile, which I am fully aware as to how slow it is, BUT, I'm running outside, hills, and even in the rain. that's the fastest I have ever "ran" out doors. Treadmill, is a different story. I'm much faster on the controlled area of the treadmill. I just don't like the treadmill nearly as much as being outside, time goes so slow inside, but the ability to stretch and shower immediately wonderful perks that running at work are lacking.

I work with a guy, nice guy, who is athletic, and does races, and he doesn't "mock" me per say, but he certainly doesn't give me any accolades for getting my chubby ass out there as much as I do. It doesn't bother me, what DOES bother me, is when he suggests he'll come out with me and never does BUT goes out for a run with some other person at work. I shouldn't say it bothers me, because it doesn't in fact "bother me". It does however, hurt my feelings. I know it's ridiculous, and maybe I'm being overly sensitive, it still stings. It stings mostly because he knows I am trying to get faster, and he knows that if he did go out with me, I'd end up chasing him,  making me inevitably become faster in the long run.

Want to know what else stings? Gaining 7 pounds! or Pulling my hamstring! It's like the more I try to "train" to get "in shape" the less likely it is to happen for me. WTF?! It's simply annoying.

I realize none of this actually matters, and it shouldn't bother me, and in actuality it doesn't. I know it doesn't, for one wonderful reason, running. My time alone. Running, as soon as I ran today all my aggravation dissipated. gone. I feel tired, but good tired, the kind of tired you earned. I still feel chubby, but that's just me, but with each run I feel stronger. I hope that I can reintroduce lifting, and swimming once the new year arrives, (after all the new ink additions have healed and can be submerged in water).


Dad approached me about 2 weeks ago asking if I wanted to do a race up in Lake Placid come May. I said sure. I always say "sure" when it comes to my dad, anything to spend extra time with him, and make him proud of course. I was saying "sure" to a half marathon. He assures me I can complete it. He assures me I can "train" for it. My dad never lies to me, so I'm going to have to believe him on this one. Maybe this is the small 13.1 mile step I need to take, to get me to finally train for the mother of all races...

70 days = 10 weeks

70 days = 10 weeks. that's how long we had to live at my parents house. (it was actually 74 days but who's counting). I am sad that I had to go. I liked living there, I would bring my bed there if I could and live there. it took a long time to get to where we are, (and a lot of money), but finally our apartment, our new home is completed, even down to the curtains. the hardest part, picking paint. without further ado, here are your before pictures, during and after...

 So our bedroom pretty much looks the same, and if you really want pictures, I'll post them when RB isn't asleep in the bed. You'll have to excuse some of the mess, we are still working on getting rid of things and finding places for things to go. We are pretty much settled in, we need to put up some photos, and get a diningroom table, and desk but again for the most part we are set. We have found out though that the walls are so old, our paint doesn't look good in photo's but it looks just fine in person. Also, all my original pictures I liked better because I took them at night and I like all of our lighting in this apartment, that isn't to say that the natural light isn't lovely, it just makes things look a little different.

In the mortal words of Rosemary Clooney, "C'mon a my house, a my house, I'm gonna give you some candy".... you're all welcome for a visit! xox

Holding out for a Hero

when I was younger I swam competitively. my sport of choice was in the water. it wasn't easy, and the team I swam for wasn't filled with a ton of nice people, although, now that I think back, I suppose they were all simply being teenagers. Nevertheless, they were mean to me, I think maybe it was because I refused to follow their rules, instead I was a Misfit, a Mismatched piece of the team puzzle. Before being that teenage misfit, I was a chubby 10 year old with little to no friends on the team. I became very good friends with a boy named Tim. To this very day, 22 years later, Tim and I are friends. The kind of friends that you know no matter what will do anything for, even if you haven't seen or spoken to in months, or years. Tim is an amazing person, his wife, Kathleen just as amazing, if not more so. They produced two beautiful boys. Owen, 2+ years old and the newest addition, Ethan 6+ months. I love them. I love them all. I want to wrap a bow around them and give them as a gift to all people who need a good set of friends.

not too long ago, I got a message from Tim telling me about Owen and some serious health issues. I was heartbroken, shocked, and didn't know how or why something like this would happen, could happen to the amazing Tim and Kathleen. How come? There is no answer why, it's just simply sad. 

Owen requires a life-saving bone marrow transplant. a hero for owen is what is necessary. In an effort to help in the only way I can, I posted pictures of Owen at work, and asked that people go donate blood, plasma, and join the bone marrow donation registry. I went just yesterday in a feeble attempt at doing my part. Tim was there, shaking hands, and talking to reporters; he looked so much older than I had remembered. I wanted to cry at the sight of him, all he did was smile at me, and apologize profusely for not being in touch these last few months, (are you kidding me Timothy?!); that's simply the kind of guy he is. 

I want nothing more than good things for them, they deserve it more than anyone I know. After seeing him yesterday though, I have realized, that as much as I do not believe in A God or The God, I do believe in faith, and that life doesn't deal you a hand it doesn't think you can't handle. You have to play the cards you're dealt as best as you know how, and realize that you can handle it, otherwise it would not be in your hands. 

Even though Tim and Kathleen can handle it, and will get through, I still go to bed at night wishing, hoping, praying for only good things for them and Owen, and even though you don't know them, won't you go and do the same? 

my balls will betray me...

if you are lucky enough to have a partner in life, he or she may say some pretty hilarious things to you. RB is pretty much hilarious, he's also a giant asshole, dick-head, stupid, smart, sarcastic, and lame. he is geeky, nerdy, plays fantasy sports, love "start wars" and the "godfather". he wants nothing more in this life to have children and i'm almost positive, drive me completely insane. he is a royal pain in the pahtootie. he, like many other men in the world, want a son. he wants a son for all the reasons i might want a daughter and then also because he can relate to having a son being that he is someone's son. (mind you if i have a son, i would want him to be gay- happy, and also homosexual). In reality, we both really want a healthy, happy kid, and that's the most important thing of all.

we often have the "what-if" conversations many couples and friends have with one another, and after a simple chat about children, RB stated something, all i can really remember from the chat is the following, RB:"...when we have our son...", me: "well it's really up to you, my body doesn't decide gender, yours does." RB: "i know it does and that's why i know my balls will betray me." 

(fingers crossed that if in fact we ever produce offspring, his balls will betray him). 

uncharted territory

*i began writing this post almost a month ago, and never got around to finishing it.

this might be a little too much detail for some of you, or maybe it's just me. i'm not a private person, per say, but there are definitely things, events, thoughts, that i choose to keep to myself. one key big one is sex. i grew up in a very private/conservative type house on really only one front- sex. (money was the other, but i don't think that made much of a difference to me). i know about sex obviously, and i know, according to my mother what is ladylike and what isn't, as well as what is a feminist approach to ladylike behavior. sex wasn't open for discussion. even now if i attempt at talking about "baby-making" with my mother it is very, very "G" rated. 

when i was a kid i wanted to be an obstetrician. so i read a ton of medical books to learn about babies, and growth. i'm a teacher and i know a good amount about child development, and mom's a physical therapist specializing in child development, which means that during conversations, i've become involved in learning more about child physical development. for someone who hasn't had a child, i sure do know a lot about having one and how they should "normally" develop. 

now, you're wondering what does all this have to do with one another- the start of this is i wanted to properly introduce you into a topic that isn't usually something i am willing or was taught you discuss. next, well, i hate when mom's assume we non-moms don't have a clue about child care, child rearing, or child development, get over yourselves. women have been having children for millions of years, you haven't done anything that hasn't been done before, you don't need a medal for taking good care of your kids either. as much as all you mom's love to get on the non-mom population, or your kidless friends, you yourselves are no different than the non-moms. a lot of your kidless friends will say what they say out of frustration for not having their own children, however, we all make choices in life, and we have chosen the paths we are all on (for the most part). i'm appreciative to my two best friends who trust that although i am one of the childless people in the world, i'm not naive, uneducated, or not well versed in child care, child rearing, or child development. 

the choice to be childless is not always an easy one, especially when you are married to a man like RB who has always wanted children, or when your best friends are people like this who create amazing kids, and love you and keep you apart of their lives as well as they do, or when your other friends produce the most amazing children in the universe and all you can think about is having your own miniature version of yourself. oh man, did i say that out loud?!? it's the truth people, i don't care about the circle of life so much, i don't care about anything other than (really) the selfish act of creating a miniature version of myself in hopes that she could trump my amazingness and be so much more than me. i don't want a friend in my child, i want child who loves her mother as much as i love mine, and she hers. who thinks i'm the "cats meow" just as i do my own, who is her mothers shadow, just as she was her moms. it's selfish, all of it, and i don't care. 

the uncharted territory is this- i don't find myself "trying" to conceive, or working at it at all, but when my well documented, never a day late, perfect, very regular, almost a nazi, 28 day cycle runs to a sudden 31 day cycle (?!?!), i couldn't help but to envision that amazingly funny and smart mini-rapunzel. alas, stress most likely played a key role in the delay, but i honestly have to admit i was disappointed. i know this news makes some of my favorite people happy to hear, but it also scares the living bejeezus out of me. there are so many things that could go wrong in life, that having a mini-me could really make things messy.

 i suppose though, if it ever happens, it was totally supposed to happen. it has never happened before, not even a scare really, never in my life did i have to think once let alone twice about a plan b, or recollect the nights happenings, which brings another weird thought to my mind- my aunt couldn't have kids, and it was something genetic, and that could be me. which would totally be fine, honest, i'd be fine with it, i would just like to know now though, so that the territory uncharted won't be uncharted anymore, and from there, RB and I can take a step back and look at what we want out of life, either together, or not. only time will tell. 

life is a crazy ride, and it's funny, so laugh.

Ironman Chronicles

this july marked my dad's 5th IRONMAN triathlon. 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, 26.2 mile run. yup, you read that right. i have gone to spectate 3 out of the 5. every one that i have bared witness too never ceases to amaze and move me. i cannot describe the overwhelming amount of emotions i feel when i get to spectate such an event. dad doesn't like to brag, but i do. it's a rather incredible thing that he not only does them, but has done as many as he has and he still continues to train for them. the man broke his neck twice, so the sheer fact that he is alive and well is pretty amazing in it of itself; so for crying out loud, let me brag a little.

 

 it's an amazing thing watching people perform the tasks of this race. when it's over i'm moved to tears. from the start of the day at 5:15am to the end of the day around 11:15-midnight, it's a long day even as a spectator. especially when one spectates the way my mom and i do. we have it down to a science, and a work out. we figured out at the 2005 race, we walk/run/jog on average 8-15 miles; nothing of course, compared to the 170 miles that the athletes themselves do, but it's a lot which knapsacks, waiting around and cheering everyone on.

i know i have said this before, but every time one is over, i get the "ironman blues" and i don't even do the race. the "ironman blues" is usually reserved for the athletes. they get it because they aren't training as much anymore, and they are waiting for their body's to recuperate. i get it because it's so intense and thrilling, and emotionally driven. i also feel the overwhelming urge to train for one. dad keeps telling me that all i need is 12-18 months. i think i need 12-18 years, which is pretty much what's been happening. i've been training since 2003; i'm almost ready to actually commit.

training is time consuming, and i'm not always sure that i am willing to put the time in. remember i lack an addictive personality. can i really train for it? i've always told myself i want and would do one by the time i was 35, i've got 2 and 1/2 years to go, but i'm thinking maybe 2015 could be my year. we'll see how winter training goes, and if i can actually get up to running 3 miles (plus) straight. 12-18 months is all i need to be among an elite group of athletes and make my dad as proud of me as i am of him. (plus, bragging rights).

Mirror Lake, Lake Placid New York, the site of the swim leg of the IRONMAN

i'm longing for my bed

I'm growing tired. real tired. I haven't slept in my own bed since August 12. isn't that sad? especially for me, a person who loves sleeping and my bed.

i would try to go and visit friends normally, run away, you know the usual, i just can't leave RB alone in my parent's house. not that they would mind, or that he wouldn't survive, but you know, i certainly wouldn't want to be left alone in my in-laws... i mean anyone else's parents house by myself.

i'm trying to sell some clothing, make a little extra cash, along with working on a team at school that i have zero desire to be apart of, but we could use the extra money. government shut down = one income household for the time being, not so much fun when the one income is a teachers salary. not that i don't make good money, i do, it's just that i have expensive taste and if you haven't noticed, we are completing major renovations in our apartment.

i'm not freaking out. sure, i have moments where i want to scream and yell and kick and cry and give up on everything, BUT i know that come next month i'll be back home in our beautifully redone apartment, and planning our next vacation. i'm not worried. i'm just tired.

in the mean time, pray for my sanity and know that i am fully aware that things can always be worse and that i lead a pretty fortunate and blessed life (even without my bed).

my faith is being restored in human kindness.

When I said that I wasn't sure how this whole renovating thing was going to go, I wasn't lying. I wasn't fooled to believe it would be a smooth, well oiled machine, that would actually be completed in the time I was told it would be completed. We have been very fortunate though in that no BIG problems arose during the renovations- i.e. termites, mold, super big construction issues etc. However, that isn't to say that annoyances, frustrations and completely aggravating situations have not arisen.

Appliances were ordered and scheduled to be delivered early in September until a request made by the contractor to change the date came along to which I obliged, which turned into Sears having to refund my appliance delivery charges, no tip for the delivery men, and a super aggravated me. It was endless, no one was there to accept delivery, they couldn't deliver as promised, no one on Sears' end answered the phone, blah, blah, blah. Needless to say, they are in and they are fabulous.

I decided to get a shower door [stupid move], because we got some money back when we had to reorder a new toilet, one that would fit more appropriately in our bathroom. That took way too long and cost WAY to much, it looks amazing though, nothing obstructing the view of my wonderfully retro bath tiles.

To closet system or to not closet system? well, this was a decision that I should have simply made for our bedroom closet and not both bedrooms because, our closet system purchased at the amazing Container Store worked out great for our bedroom and stupidly for the guest. Resulting in 3 trips to the store and a nice little fight between RB and I about putting the damned thing together. Once our stuff is in, I'm not worried too much about what it looks like, I simply want to utilize the space to it's maximum capacity.

All I really needed wanted was a farmhouse sink. It's an odd thing I know, but I envision babies bathing in it for some odd reason. It's homey and rich with style, I love them. I didn't care the size, and my blessed plumbing guy asked me about a million times to be SURE on the size. I check with the designer a million and one times on the size and sure as shit it was too big for the space. I was LIVID. I was so angry, not simply because I asked a million and one times, not because I looked like an idiot to my plumbing supply guy, not because I had to now order a size down, not that I even had to postponed the measuring/template of my counter top by 2 weeks, but because I had to pay the restocking fee on this enormous sink that was mistakenly ordered and it wasn't my fault! This wasn't the first time my designer/contractor made a mistake that cost me time, and money, remember the appliances above, yeah, because of him, I almost got a divorce- not really, but you know what I mean.

I decided I would tell him of my aggravation and complete and utter disappointment. He had nothing to respond to me with. When the head contractor/owner/carpenter picked up the new sink, and shower door, he paid for these items. When he and I were talking about it, he said, I paid, so we can work that into your final payment later. I replied with, "oh great, thanks, you saved me a check to write. how much was it again?' I knew full well how much it was but I was fishing to see if he would ask for more money. To my surprise and restoration in human kindness, he said, "well, you have to pay for the shower door, it was $xx plus tax, but since *Tim messed up big time with the sink, and that's not your fault at all, I'm going to take it out of his cut." with a slight chuckle, he looked at me, and I was overwhelmed. I said thank you, and mentioned how thoughtful that was, and he simply said that it "wasn't a problem, and it's what you do".

The head contractor has also decided to fix our vestibule floor free of charge, for having the renovations take so long and not having things goes as on schedule as he would have liked. This is a nice human, and maybe, maybe, most people would have done the same thing, and maybe he's playing me so that he can not hear me complain or whatever anymore, but he didn't have to do any of it. I would have complained, but still paid for the restocking fee, and the vestibule floor. But he didn't. He restored my faith in human kindness, in that people want to do nice things. It means a lot and Karma is working it's way around.

time flies when you're still wearing Birkenstocks

I'm still trying to catch up, find that rhythm i'm used to, being in Paradise for two weeks threw me off. We are on week 5 of living out of our home, it's interesting, mostly because now I'm worried I have to readjust to not living at home when this is all over. I love it here. As much as I miss my [our] own space, I truly love it at my parents house. Don't be fooled though into thinking that it's because of home cooking, or mom doing my laundry because that's a far cry from reality. Cooking is a shared chore in this house, I cook at least 2 times a week, I've been doing my own laundry since I could see the agitator inside the washing machine [age 7] and their dryer is broke. needless to say, those are some of the drawbacks, sharing the guest bed with RB, and living out of a suitcase, wearing sandals [still], is also a draw back.

being with the 3 people I love most in the world everyday AND my old pup, that's really the highlight. sure, I'm 32 and it's a little cramped here, and I haven't slept well in over a month, it's still pretty great being here.

Being at work isn't fun, at all. I don't teach, and that isn't for lack of trying. Between the new standards for students and teachers, and how we are being rated, the amount of paperwork required of us now is worse than ever. How can it be considered teaching when I'm too busy trying to prove to the city, state, and anyone outside of my building, why my students can't learn certain things. Alas, I digress.

Taking 3 classes this semester just pits the cherry on top of the things to get through on my "to-do" list.

With all that being said, I'm really, and truly, fine and dandy. I mean, I have my moments of, "I want to punch this person in the throat", but when isn't that the case.

So, here we are, weather getting chilly, I'm still in open toed birkenstocks, and we should be here for a least a few more weeks, between the floors and the painting, we are close, but not done. I figure you're all welcome for a visit around Thanksgiving- I should be ready by then for guests. RB and I are running real low on cash, which isn't something I am used to at all, but in a year, we'll be up and running like our usual selves, I presume.

I know, you're reading this hoping for a photo update of what our blissful living space looks like. look no further...

Kitchen on Monday

The wall with those double closets in the LR

Our Closet

Guest/Spare Bedroom

Bathroom (toilet not pictured)

Kitchen/LR entry as of today

Kitchen (as of today)

Kitchen as of today

go to Hawaii. That's a direct order.

I have traveled to plenty of places on this green earth to make such a bold and direct bossy-like statement. I have seen beautiful, interesting, and historic places on this earth and I still INSIST you go to Hawaii at least once in your lifetime.

Hanalei Kauai, Hawaii

Na' Pali Coast By Air

Sunsets

Haleakala 

Duke's Oceanfest One Mile Open Water Swim

My favorite places that we saw there were Hanalei and all of Kauai, Paia in Maui, including the hike down Haleakala- a volcano who just might erupt within the next 1,000 years. Kailua, Oahu, beautiful beaches.

We did so much, and nothing all at the same time. The sun was amazing, the people are great, the food is delicious. I wasn't worried that RB wouldn't like it, I wasn't worried that being with my family for the majority of the trip would be an issue. I was pleasantly surprised by RB's enthusiasm to do things everyday, and wish he was in better shape to enjoy more of what Hawaii had to offer, I was pleasantly surprised by his growth in fondness for my family so much so that when we arrived on Oahu by ourselves he told me repeatedly that he missed them and wished they were with us still. 

I was feeling anxious over a one mile open swim race that I had registered for on Waikiki beach, because I hadn't been swimming all that often, other than that one race I did in July (finishing 3rd in my age group I might add), but after that it was limited swim training let alone, open water swim training. I didn't vomit in the beautiful Pacific, like I thought I might, and I didn't go as fast as I would have liked, but I did break 30 minutes, and finish 10th in my age group. 

RB and I have made the decision that this place is for us. We talk about keeping our tiny city apartment and saving for a Hawaiian getaway. We discuss going there on vacation from now until we find somewhere else to be. We love that place, and I can completely understand how and why my parents continue to go back. 

I know that I'll make it back to Paris eventually, but for now, I'm good with discovering all Hawaii has to offer me.

Where did August run to?

living room view from kitchen

So I am not sure how or when it happened, but summer is pretty much over. I'm sad about it on a variety of levels. Level 1: I love summer, I love the sun, and beach, and working out and the food. Level 2: I usually plan my time better to get the most out of the summer days and I didn't do that this summer. The stress of moving, coordinating contractors, and things for renovations, a new position this summer; which I must admit was hard work, but I loved it, taking two online courses that were supposed to be not as time consuming as they turned out to, and finally going on vacation which includes planning and packing of it's own, I barely saw the beach, or sleep, or anything, and it isn't as though I have much to show for it.

hallway to bedroom and bath

with that being said I bring you to my "nightmare". It's REALLY not that bad, I promise, and I am positive that I can think of eighty different ways that these renovations could be worse in 10 seconds, however, it is certainly one of the most inconvenient things EVER. In an ideal situation, the renovations should have been done prior to us living there, but, lets face it, that would be too easy. we do not do easy, we do interesting, incredibly annoying, ridiculously stupid, fall down, laugh out loud pathetic, and sometimes utterly outrageous, but never easy. (I suppose it's better that way, makes for a more interesting life). anyway, renovations began the day after we left for Hawaii- You must go to Hawaii, thats an order. It was a Wednesday and here are a few things we were told; your bathroom will take 5-7 days, so it will be done by the time you return, the gutting of the place will be done as well and you could stay if you need to. HA HA HA HA. Hilarious. I have to admit I thought these guys would be miracle workers if that happened, and you guessed it, none of them are the next messiah.

tiny bath

do you really want to know that scope of work I am referring too? total gutting of kitchen and bathroom, new electrical, new appliances, kitchen floor, bathroom EVERYTHING, fix walls, windows, base boards, all doors need to be replaced and closets reconstructed. You know, something small and easy. I'm sure I am missing something, but does it really matter? It's supposed to take 4-5 weeks. we are currently in the middle of week three.

I still have no toilet.

guestroom/office bedroom

ugh, i can't even

we are not living there. 

master "suite"

living room view #1 from bathroom

we cannot turn on the air conditioners because of saw dust and dirt.

living room view #2

kitchen view #1 from living room

all my furniture is there, and filthy.

kitchen view from window end

kitchen view from back end

I have nothing in the kitchen. I barely have lights that work. I do however, have a new ceiling. I will have a toilet this week, maybe, and an almost completed kitchen by friday. I know nothing looks that bad in the photos, but I tell you this place was the closest thing to a shit hole as I get. between the dirt, and the dead mickey's, the cigarette and weed smoke wafting in through a hole in a kitchen cabinet from our neighbor and the cockroach that you could throw a saddle on and ride, it was horrible. It will be great, and beautiful and all those other things. For now, it's a work in progress.

So nothing says welcome home from 2 amazing weeks on vacation in Paradise like, "oh you can't live here yet, guess you'll have to find some place to go in the meantime" like your home being a construction zone. for the last 2 weeks (this tuesday) we will have been living at my parents, out of suitcases, and in their guest bedroom. Wednesday marks week 4 of renovations, and I might have to loose my shit, should it go beyond week 5... only time will tell.

check back in December for finish product pics! ha ha. maybe if you behave i'll post "in progress pics" but those are all blurry.

I wanna toot my own horn.

Andy Warhol Project- Grades K-6 Emotionally Disturbed and Autistic Population

 It's very rare that I feel like I am good at my job. I definitely have my moments where I feel like I can toot my own horn, however, this summer I'm working really hard because I have a new responsibility. I was placed within my building as the Art teacher for grades pre-k through sixth grade. The populations I have this summer are students with Autism/Spectrum Disorders to students with Emotional disabilities, which if you aren't familiar with what this means, it includes but is not limited to students with Oppositional Defiant Disorder, Bi-Polar, ADD, ADHD, Various Learning Disabilities, Social Anxiety, along with various Neuroses. (They are generally real tough kids, feel free to email me if you have any interest in knowing more). I don't like to talk about work, or the kids I teach because I want to try to completely respect their privacy. The way I work is simple, I try my best with what I have. My first goal was to do projects with the kids that maximize my 40 minutes of time with them. I also love making an artistic mess! Our students really need fine and gross motor skill work, as well as sensory skill work. Art is great for these kinds of skills. I love being dirty everyday, covered in crayon, paint, glue, and glitter. Thanks to Pinterest and the glorious pinners, I was able to adapt and modify various projects to suit the needs and skills level of the students that I have the opportunity of playing and teaching them. I like to focus on the ability to follow multi-step directions, how well they play, socialize and explore what I put down in front of them. For the younger kids I chose to read a picture book and then create a project based on central theme of the stories.

Pre-K various special needs- "Rainbow Fish" project and "We make our own spray paint"

Pre-K-2 "Chicka Chicka Boom Boom" project, Autistic Population

"Good-night Owl" Pre-K-2 Project, Autistic Population

For the older kids, I have chosen to look at different Artists, and different textures to explore their imagination. Unfortunately, the older kids often lack imagination or at the very least don't know how to tap into the exploration of their imagination. By giving them parameters to follow but to instruct them to use their imagination, they are able to move about the room, and socialize unlike the regular school year, or regular school day. something they are working on getting used to.

I'm going into week 4 of summer school and I'm feeling pretty good about my projects. I'm hoping the next 3 weeks goes as well as the first 3 weeks. If anyone has any other ideas for me feel free to pass them along- I have the students with Autism pre-k through 2 everyday! It's a lot of work, but I'm loving every minute of it! (toot-toot-toooooot!)

zoom, june.

well, it's almost over, June that is. we did our best RB  and I to get this move going in the right direction. I can make an itemized list of all the things I would have done differently for the both of us, and all the things RB was in charge of that he learned a lesson for next time- you know when we move again in 5 years.

the month started out great with a hot trip to Maine, retirement parties, fathers day. birthday parties, and pretty much every weekend being consumed by either family time, OR moving. we closed on the 12th, and that's when the madness set it. I began packing as soon as i could, I can say with almost 100% certainty we have WAY to much crap. -anyone interested in buying some things? I've got plenty to sell- RB packed 3 boxes. -what a big help- my favorite packing moment with him was when he said to me one night, "why are you packing now, we have plenty of time?" it was June 15th, we moved THURSDAY.

I booked the movers, got boxes, packed, and slowly we moved stuff we could by ourselves after closing. RB sat in our new apt waiting for cable/phone/Internet and a locksmith. poor guy sat on a folding chair for 6 hours. I also hired a cleaning lady to help with the mess over at the new place. I knew that the older woman who had lived there didn't live there for three years prior to selling it, and no way she cleaned the way i needed it cleaned. I didn't expect the cleaning person to do it all alone, i was going to clean along side them. Well, moving day came, and the cleaning service called AFTER i confirmed payment, that they service our area, and that they are prepared to clean an empty apartment, to cancel and tell me I was out of their service area. just another added bonus to moving day.

our next bonus came when the movers arrived 30 minutes early and looked around in awe of how much crap we have. of course the actual move was well over the estimated priced surprise, surprise, but at least I didn't have to figure out how to put a hole in the wall of my own hallway, they did it for me.

My mom and I arrive at our new address, to clean up a little, and to our surprise, the place was FILTHY. And when I say FILTHY I mean FILTHY. Turns out in February the boiler broke and there was "blow back" of soot into our apartment and the one upstairs. It happened twice. Now, soot is worse than dirt because it's oily, greasy and sticks to everything, the floors, the walls, inside every crevice of every crack and nook and cranny you can imagine. we did the best we could in 6 hours time, and i'm sure you can't really even tell how dirty everything is because EVERYTHING is dirty. Don't walk around barefoot in here, you'll pick up the soot on your socks or feet.

The AC in our bedroom is as old as I am and barely cools anything down, while the one in the living works well but is so loud I am choosing to sweat than to be comfortable in the NYC humidity. My kitchen is smaller than I remember, and the slope in the floor is worse than I remember. The slope can be equated to the episode of "How I Met Your Mother" when Lily and Marshall move to DOWISETREPLA, yup, its that bad.

This morning RB asked for a frying pan, and I obliged of course, i'll dig one out of a box for you--- because we aren't unpacking due to the fact that we are renovating in about 4 weeks. renovations entail a total gutting of the place, so why unpack just to pack again--- when I went to look for a sponge to wash said pan, I found the sink leaking in the kitchen, ain't I lucky. I couldn't help but to think and feel that the hits just keep on coming. I'm not the type of person who thinks or says things like "Fuck My Life" or Dark clouds only follow me, bad things happen to me, or a giant negative nancy BUT it's hard to stay positive and know that in 10 weeks time all the little annoyances of this new home will dissipate with renovations. But we do have to live here for the time being, which brings me to our last bonus.

we went to contract in October of 2012, we were told it won't take longer than 6 months for us to close,  which made our time lime perfect for closing, renovations and moving in after all the renovations were done. we all know what happened there- we closed 8 months after going to contract and now have to live in it while the renovations are going on, plus we have to wait for the renovations to begin, and they are going to continue while we are away in August. I'm hoping that when we return from our Hawaiian getaway, all i'll need to do is unpack.

OH! I almost forgot! our last apartment refuses to give us back our security deposit, made us pay $1000 move OUT fee, plus $50 because we were moving out prior to 12-noon. the realtor trying to rent our space was an enormous bitch who was nasty and very difficult to work with and continues to harass us because we took our washer/dryer that we bought ourselves 4 years ago and the next tenant doesn't want to pay us the amount we are asking for it. the washer/dryer thing really gets me going because when she was showing our space I said numerous times it's for sale, we will just leave it for $600, now that we have had to move the washer/dryer out with us, she tells us that its an added expense for the new renter and they will buy it for $500 because they have to come and get it. this is one time I will proudly cut my nose off to spite my face. I'd rather sell it to someone I know for less than $600, than sell it for one penny less than the asking price, because that apartment, the landlord, the realtor and the bullshit that went on there is too much for me to sell it for less.

this is one of the first summers i'm angry that i have to work summer school, i haven't been to the beach, and have to live where i live, the way I live. on a better note, our favorite restaurants deliver to us now, loading and unloading the car is easier, we are in more of a neighborhood, where kids are outside playing, and hopefully our renovations will go a little better than our actual purchase and moving in.

I guess it could all always be worse. let the renovations begin, pray for us...

New England heat.

I'm super behind and i'm going to try my best to move it along. many things have happened all of which were extremely time consuming. first let's start June off with a flight to Maine for the weekend to enjoy my girls and the littles christenings, hence the back dating. of course I had a great time, ate lobster, snuggled with June and Jan, I even had the pleasure of going to the beach. mostly because it was sweltering! 

how does that even happen, 90+ degrees with humidity in freakin' Maine. either way though, it was fantastic. I ran both saturday and sunday, feeling pretty decent except when I thought I was going to die on my run back on saturday morning--- it was seriously so hot, there was no shade, and i thought of the brilliant plan to run at 9am for 2 miles without water--dummy. 

sunday was fo' sho' a great and happy day. woke up early, had some breakfast, some great qt with Jan, and made the decision to run to the beach. 3.4 miles later, I arrived. it was beautiful. it was the first beach day of the season for me which is totally odd, because usually i'm there at least once a week throughout the year. the sound of the lapping water, and the beautiful blue sky was so serene and happiness provoking. I felt completely at ease and that that day would be one of those unexpected days and wonderful-ness. (I was right)

I ran into that water, and it was so cold, but my burning legs needed it, it felt amazing. i played with the kids in the water and didn't feel uncomfortable about being in a bathing suit- for the first time in about 15 years. 

the best part about that day though, was simply sitting on the beach blanket with Jan and June enjoying the serenity of the beach, watching their kids play, and creating a memory for both them and us, that I certainly will treasure always. at one point Jan's mom said " you three look like the 'ya-ya sisterhood' sitting there." it was an experience, and small, to some insignificant experience that meant a lot to me, and it was exactly where i wanted to be, and want to be every sunday morning. 

of course you didn't think that the weekend went off without a hitch did you? my flight home was supposed to happen at 3pm and i should have gotten to NY around 4:30ish. instead, due to weather -that according to mom, didn't exist- my flight was delayed to around 6, which in the grand scheme of most of my stories isn't that bad, but, of course i don't mind the necessary evil when i get to enjoy the time with June and Jan. 

the move is on

up until this afternoon, we had yet to find out when our closing date was for this apartment that was "purchased" almost 10 months ago. i wasn't that worried, although between the end of the school year kind of work i have to do, our impending trip at the end of the summer, packing, or attempting to pack, figuring out a move and the everyday inertia of life, it was all becoming somewhat anxiety provoking. do you blame me?

finally, we have a closing date, and things can finally move along. granted not the way we hoped or anticipated, however, movement will happen. this isn't to say that the anxiety will dissipate, however it will (hopefully) subside for the time being. perhaps i'm misreading the anxiety and it's actually excitement? fear? nah, i'm going to stick with anxiety. either way, the move is on, it's on like donkey kong.

man, i'm tired.

last weekend marked the fourth time in 3 months going up to Massachusetts and i sat in traffic each and every time. i am officially done with driving north- sorry girls- for quite a while. i still have my trip to Maine next weekend, which i am looking forward to but i'm not driving- thank goodness. 

last weekend i attended my 10 year college reunion. it was a shit show to say the least. i had a great time. originally, i wasn't going to go for the simple fact that Jan wasn't going to be in attendance due to the fact that she had recently given birth to her beautiful little lady. in addition to that, i didn't want to make the drive in fear of hitting/sitting in major traffic (my fears became my reality). after talking to another friend that i don't often get the opportunity to see, we decided that we would attend reunion in hopes of a good time. i suppose that since we don't see each other often we would have a great time visiting with some "old friends". clearly, we were disillusioned. this isn't to say that we didn't have fun- we made it fun, we had no choice, it was either mock ourselves and mock the entire idea of the weekend or go home shaking our heads in disappointment. next time we know we don't have to go to a reunion to have a good time with each other. (we really should have known this prior to making the trip, but hindsight is 20/20). 

we toured campus, slept in the dorms on the shitty mattresses, ate dining hall food, drank, took tons of photos, almost got into a fight with a 24 year old alum, drank, accosted a few people, taught some youngin's a much needed lesson, drank, met a really cool alum '53 and had a few laughs in the process. all in all, we had a good time. made me really miss my other lady friends, wish i saw them more often, wish it was easier to see them more often. 

i haven't had a weekend to do "nothing"- by nothing i mean what i want to do- since i can't remember. every weekend has been something, birthdays, reunions, parties, holidays, plays etc. i feel like i haven't slept, or worked out, or simply sat like a lump on a log for a day watching tv. it's only getting worse from here. with summer rapidly approaching, i've got to get in some beach time, outside exercise, more birthdays, outdoor drinking and of course our impending move. oh plus, i am registering for summer classes so that i can hit top pay at work. fuck! i almost forgot, renovating our new apt- whenever that will actually happen, only the bank knows. 

i guess it's better that i am busy than not, lets me know that i'm alive and moving... always find that silver lining, but man, i'm wicked tired.

only me

you've read the one about sitting in traffic, running into the woods to pee, falling into mud and peeing on myself. what you don't really understand is that things like this, or of similar caliber happen to me quite often. it has to actually. if it were to happen to Jan she'd never leave the house, or June, she'd cry and call her husband and best friend to come and get her. this isn't to say these two woman are not strong, or could handle stupid shit such as that mentioned above. it's just to say that the realm of ridiculousness would be too much for them to bear; or at least that's what i tell myself.

there are have been on many occasions, including most recently, that it takes me an uncharacteristically long time to get to New England. specifically about 217 miles; or 307 miles to Maine. i left work early; my first mistake, to head up to do a little late april visiting. i sat, literally sat on I84. i hit the mass pike at the EXACT time i was hoping not to have hit it, bringing me to stop over at Jan's house. i had every intention of stopping at Jan's just not on my way up to the Boston area. it took me a little over 4 hours to get to Jan's. "oh, 4 hours that's not a big deal!" you think. well, it is a big deal when it should only take you on your worst day 3 hours. alas, on your worst day maybe, on mine, as you can see, a little over 4. luckily, i was smart enough to leave Jan's later than i wanted, therefore it only took me another hour to get to June's house, a mere, 45 miles away.

this happens on a regular basis. why do i continue to go? well, isn't obvious? i love my girls, and i am rather convinced, that when the time comes for me to need them, they will drive their pretty selves down to NYC for me. (which they have before).

next up: students who are 'far out'. and i'm not referencing 1960's lingo of someone being "really cool", "the cat's meow" or a "rad dude". nope, i'm referring to the fact that they come from a planet far, far away, where teachers take their exams for them, babysit them, and deal with their whining with smiles on their faces, and can magically teach a 5th grader to add and subtract while the kid is screaming and crying and refusing to follow simple directions. (told you it was another planet). only me, it has to happen to me, because if these types of kids were thrusted into other rooms, people might loose their jobs, parents might become angry, and all the while i can deal with the 'far outs' because i am me, it's fine, it's all in my job description as a special educator.

how about getting sick on vacations? or every new years eve since i was a kid? or [almost] every school break since i began working?

who knew that buying an apt would take the same amount of time as growing a human being inside of your body?

lastly, the husband. the man i love, the man who 2 years ago was hospitalized for some strange fucking ass disease in god damned rhode island. yeah, that was awesome. having my MIL ask if she could sleep in the bed with him, and me kicking her ass out of the hospital. yup, only me.

all of the above makes me chuckle. i think years ago i didn't always find these kinds of events funny, however, now i can't help but laugh and know that it has to be me. only me. it makes me me, and i have to find the humor in all these types of occurrences.

life is good, because if this is the worst it can be for me, then i've got it pretty good, don't i?

busy, busy bird.

It's been a hectic few weeks. first, babies have been born!! How exciting. Two new additions to my world of the spoils, a baby girl, and a baby boy born 4 days apart. I couldn't be happier for all the healthy mom's and dad's and babes.

it really is exciting that so many people i know and love continue to copulate and reproduce. to top it all off they make really stink' cute babies...

with all the babies being born i've come to terms with my own trepidation into motherhood. this isn't to say that we are attempting to procreate, but that isn't to say that i am not open to the idea of procreating in the sooner rather than later future. i know how exciting this must be for so many who didn't think that i would in fact, warm up to the idea, but the fact of the matter was that in the past i did entirely to many things based on someone else's time line. it helps that most of it all worked out to be something great, but motherhood was not something that i was willing to negotiate time on.

i still have plenty of things i want to accomplish prior to having a person growing inside of me, but the best part is that RB and i are pretty much seeing eye to eye on this whole procreating thing. i would hate for him to read this one day and think in anyway that i was withholding a child from him until he saw it my way, but it does help that he has been seeing my way, which for us, is the right way.

we are still going places. i have been to massachusetts to see my loves a few times already this year, and plan to head to new england again at least two more times before summer school begins. we have hawaii booked (insert fit of ridiculous hula dancing), and alabama this fall for a football game.

RB and i are looking into vacations for next spring and summer and look forward to more traveling adventures.

the apartment has been something of a headache and a long story, but hopefully we'll have good news, or some news by the end of next week. which will only add to the busy ness- aka the remolding project of 2013.

busy, busy, birds we are, busy birds.

it's nice to feel happy.

when i met my husband, i was 18, (which i am sure i have mentioned before) and he was a funny guy that my friends were friends with. he made me laugh, mostly because our friends weren't the sharpest tools in the shed, so when he came along and was sarcastic, clever, and witty, i feel "in love" with him. we quickly became friends and i entrusted him with all of my deep dark nasty secrets.

when i think about all the bullshit we have waded through during our 14 years of knowing each other, i realize that when i met him, i most likely did in fact fall in love with him. prior to our engagement, i was the first person to mock RB incessantly, and call him an asshole or dick head, and point out when he's being a jerk or unforgiving, and he's was the first person i share (most) every little thought with. he managed to fall in love with me knowing all the horrible things about me, and stupid choices i (have and continue to make) made.

when we got engaged it was as though this beast of a female took over my thought processes. i no longer knew how to act around him or how to talk to him. i had to learn how to be a "wife" and began to become terribly unhappy. i brushed the unhappiness aside as if it were nothing, which in turn lead to greater unhappiness, and the questioning who i had decided to marry. what a terrible thing to have happen during a time that you should be blissfully happy. it didn't help that RB's grandfather and dad died within months of our getting married, and within our first 18 months of marriage RB was hospitalized for near death diseases that i was thrusted into a life that i never imagined living.

as the disgust and unhappiness worsened, and i became some woman who had horrible thoughts, resenting the sheer existence of her marriage and ideas about marriage, who she was, what her role was a a human being, and fearful of always hurting her husbands feelings by being honest. which is ridiculously stupid being that our entire relationship was built on being honest and truthful and perhaps to an outsider could be considered hurtful.

then one day i woke up, next to this great, big, fat headed man, and was so terribly, disgustingly happy to see that head that i realized all that questioning was simply linked to the fact that i was unhappy with me, and my choices of not always being honest or expressing myself in fear of hurting his feelings. fuck his feelings, because in actuality it makes us better, and us "us" when i just tell him, he's an asshole.

in retrospect i definitely feel for people who haven't go through what we have and hope they never do. they may not end up being as successful as us. our relationship has always looked kinda funny to people and hasn't always made sense to us, but for the first time in our 4 years of marriage, 9 years of being an us, and 14 years of driving each other crazy, we are finally us again, and the dick head is stuck with a dirty hippie of a wife for as long as we both shall live... sucker. our poor (nonexistent) kid....

sweet MARY, thank goodness it's spring!

happy april! can't believe it's already April! i'm looking forward to some sun and some temperatures ranging from 55-65 degrees! i'm SO over winter. being outside has been lovely, not wearing a coat- also lovely.

April is a busy month- a little girls 3rd birthday, a besties 32nd birthday, a little boys 1st birthday, a little girl and a little boy expected to make there outside-the-womb debut. thrilling.

only issue is time, hopefully, it'll be on my side. i'm already tired, but looking forward to it. happy april.

don't harsh my mellow, man.

we have embarked on this new adventure and i completely blame RB. Mister- i want to own something has known dragged me into his work of nonsense. i'm aggravated and i am currently complaining because i can, knowing full well, that it isn't that big of a deal, and it will all be fine, etc. just so you all know, i'm not complaining or aggravated because i'm worried in any way, shape or form.

so, on September 26, 2012 we placed a bid on a run-down two bedroom apartment not far from where we live. it is currently almost April, and we still have no closing date in sight and not board approval date either. although both of these things are annoying, i still go with the flow and know that it will all be fine, if the sellers decide not to sell to us because this is taking too long, then so be it. i'm fine with having to look for another place to live in all honesty. but what i am currently frustrated with is the fact that i just tried to make an appointment to drop off this ridiculous package to the board of directors at the apartment and not only was the lady rude, and spoke to me as though meeting mid morning on a work day is common knowledge but also that i am an idiot for not knowing RB and I had to go. annoyance there in the fact that i get to waste a personal work day for this bullshit. mind you i could look at it as a great day to take off with my husband and spend the day, but i'm aggravated because i don't earn days the way he does, work "x" hours, get a day, nope the DOE are a bunch of dumb assholes, so everything is a project. RB should have called when he received the application to find out what the appointment thing was all about, but you know what they say about hind sight.

the worst of the worst of all this aggravation is i don't have any desire to live there anymore. i want nothing to do with this shit of a place, who have navigated the last few months of my life between telling us the bank from which we received our loan is an unacceptable bank, to springing it on us that we have to put 10% down before anything happened - which REALLY makes me irate because now we have had 10% of our down payment trapped within this fucking shit whole of an apartment. also, i can't have a dog here, and that is not what our useless realtor said when we were looking.

i've had enough. i'm broken, you have broken me. i have made an valiant attempt at keeping my mellow and not having anyone harsh it, but this just proves that i am right about so many things. i knew we shouldn't do this, but i followed RB's lead thinking, assuming, he knew best and it is apparent that he is clueless, and shouldn't have been leader on this particular mile-stone. with all this being said, i love my husband, everything WILL be fine, and work out. plus, if this is by far the worst and most aggravated i get this year, then it was a pretty good year.

9th birthday relived.

so, when i was younger i lived a life of tootie. i was never without my roller skates. to prepare for my 32nd birthday i strapped on my old skates and practiced in my mothers kitchen prior to working out- hence my awesome running pants. i almost forgot how much fun skating was, and how easy it came to me. as a matter of fact my 11 year old nephew came with me, RB, my big "sis" and good friend, and he had no clue as to what he should have been doing on said skates. it made me sad, but also think how fortunate i was when i younger that i had no fear and did everything with a skate on. i miss those skates, and that lifestyle of rolling around everywhere. i want to have a skate date every weekend, mostly when children aren't present, they get in the way with those plastic roller-skater walkers. i'm looking forward to another skate date, and maybe throwing myself a party at the rink, reliving my 9th birthday all over again. who's in?