Heptadecagon

I am certain all you regular readers know what the topic of today's post is. Yep, Mr. Diabetic himself, Ferdinand. The cat has been given a pardon. Here is what happened. We were all ready to take him in and have him peacefully sent to the yarn factory in the sky. And then, he miraculously started to do better. He wasn't messing up the basement, he didn't seem to whine as much, and his water intake and urine output had leveled off a bit. His blood glucose levels were still high, but for some reason, he was doing better. He even came out of the basement a couple of hours each day. So, the cat gets a reprieve. It might only be a slight one, but at least the kids get more time with him. I still hope that when it is his time, he will just curl up and go, all by himself, so that I don't have to be the captain of his fate. Having that control over his life...I just don't like it. (I haven't said this to the kids or anything, but I have heard that many times p

A Facebook friend of mine posted today that he feared that his poor decisions had cost him many things in life. "There is nothing worse than 'what ifs' in life...but as I look back, I am pretty sure I missed my opportunity," he wrote. One person commented with a frown face, while another mentioned the struggle bus . While I can appreciate empathizing with him, I chose to make my comment a bit more positive and uplifting. I said, "Knowing that now, it might help you avoid more missed opportunities in the future. You have a ton of time to get where you want to be." I wasn't trying to be hokey or anything. This guy is 39 years old and truly has a lot of time left on this earth. And half of the battle most of the time is acknowledging what the problem is. Well, he knows what the problem is, and he acknowledged it. Now, he can go forward. For some reason, this friend's plight struck a nerve with me and I felt like I needed to be his cheerleader.

Today is Timmy's birthday. He is one year over the hill, but still seems like a kid. He really is my fifth child, and I guess I wouldn't have it any other way. We have the pumpkin and red lentil stew brewing, and the Heath bar brownies in the oven. Unfortunately, Timmy has a soccer meeting tonight, so he might be eating alone! Melina gave Tim the best birthday present ever yesterday. She asked for him to put her to bed, and he did. She allowed him to go through the whole bedtime routine -- I did not do a thing -- and then she wanted him to rest with her for a bit. She fell asleep within minutes. Tim snuck back into her room when it was his bed time, and she happily woke up with him there. First time in over 3.5 years that the child has allowed that to happen! *** The other day, I was looking at Talia, and marveling that I had played even a tiny part in her creation. I said to her, "I look at you, and sometimes, I am just amazed by your beauty." She smiled.

Melina told me the other day that she had seen the Eiffel Tower at the store. I thought she meant that she had seen it on the television or in a book. Yesterday, at a local store parking lot, I was loading up the things we bought into the back of the mini-van. Melina was looking out the back, watching me. All of a sudden, her eyes grew wide and she pointed to something. "Look mom," she said. "I told you that the Eiffel Tower was at the store!" I turned around, and there, I saw the radio tower. I'd love to see her reaction if she saw the real Eiffel tower!

On Tuesday of this week, March 20th to be exact, Mike Comrie and Hilary Duff welcomed a baby boy into their lives. They named the new addition Luca Cruz Comrie, and he weighed in at 7 pounds, 6 ounces. Personally, I like the moniker. A little different, but not so off the wall. Not that they were asking me or anything. Also, not that I had anything to do with this, either, but I was hoping for a girl. Bear with me and read on, and it will all become clear in a moment. Why do I care about Mike Comrie? For those of you that don't know, he was a professional hockey player. (I do have a thing for professional hockey players, i.e. Steve Yzerman, but that isn't the reason I was interested in his family life.) Well way back before he played professional hockey, he played for the University of Michigan. One winter night, while the twins were in utero, Tim and I attended a hockey game at Yost Ice Arena. Mike Comrie was the star of the moment. I don't remember exactly wha

Sorry, Alanis, but I needed to take that title. You probably don't have copyright on it, anyway. I just have to share this little tidbit of my life. I went to elementary school with a girl who was, shall I say, not so nice. She was cute, but arrogant, and pretty much two-faced. I think I went to her birthday party once, when she was still too young to realize that I, along with some other girls, did not wear Jordache jeans. She also teased girls for having hairy legs, but had the most hairy ones herself. (Karma, anyone?) I can't be certain, but when we all aged to the point that our menstrual cycles started, she wasn't very kind about the whole thing. Finding a tampon or pad in your locker with her near? Well, let's just say you didn't want that to happen. Anyway, we graduated together in 8th grade, and if I had seen her on the street after that, I might have said a quick hello. But we moved, and so I had no reason to see her. Which wasn't so bad, if y

I hauled Aaron into the doctor this morning, thinking he might have strep. He has been battling a fever since Saturday, he has swollen glands, and a slightly pink throat. His throat didn't look strep-y to me, but his voice was muffled, and he had a headache. All of the signs suggested that he might possibly have strep, and since he was born with a small ventral septal defect (VSD) in his heart, we always try to catch the strep right away. Zoe has also been complaining about a slightly sore throat. Hers didn't look strep-y to me, either, but her glands were swollen. She had no fever, but I thought since I was taking Aaron in, I'd go ahead and bring her with me. The doctor assessed them both, after I gave the signs and symptoms to the nurse. Their ears were clear, their noses clear, their throats a little pink. Based on the headache, Aaron's fever, and their swollen glands, she went ahead with the rapid strep test. After the doctor swabbed the kids' throats, s

So, seamless underwear is pretty comfortable. I thought I'd let you know, in case you are interested in buying a pair or two. I put mine on this morning, when I headed up the street to pose as a model for a fashion show. Here's the thing. I am not model material. I have regular brown hair, big hazel eyes, and stand at slightly less than five feet one inch. I have never been mistaken for anyone other than Tina Fey (who isn't bad looking, but she is known for being funny, not beautiful), and I have never had any dreams of rocking the runway. I do, however, live next to the person coordinating a fashion show for charity. She needed some people who could fit into the clothes that would be on display. After I laughed at her message, the one in which she asked if I'd like to be a model, I thought about taking risks and enjoying life. Never, and I mean never, would this opportunity come along again. Besides, I could look forward to having my hair and makeup done. Som

When it comes to emotions, I sometimes leap, then look. Someone tells me something, I take it to heart, then I think about the meaning. Not my best characteristic, and so I try to change it. But change is hard. Sometimes I write to help someone else feel better. Today, I write to tame the flutters that reverberate in my chest. There are so many there, Caused by many emotions. Most of which I don't feel like sharing yet. Yes, we're okay out here (thank you for your concern). I just needed to put my flutters into words. Sometimes that is all it takes To alleviate the pain.

Much of my life is an open book. If you have been reading this blog for a while, you probably realize that. There are certain things I don't discuss, such as very personal relationships within my family, but for the most part, I am willing to share my life. I found out yesterday that I have need for a seamless pair of panties. Why do I need them? That is for a post that will arrive after Saturday. Check back here if you are just dying to find out. My first thought, What in the heck are seamless panties ? (Sorry, Tara, but you know how fashion challenged I am. My most fashion forward pair of jeans came from you, remember?) I could imagine what seamless panties are and why you'd wear them, but I had not actually heard the name. Google came to my rescue, and not only showed me what they were, but where I could go get them. Thank goodness just about any place has them. I strolled on over to a very close department store this morning and asked the elderly saleslady if they

Arguing with a three year old is like arguing with a politician. Any politician, regardless of affiliation. You will see why in a minute. Today, on the way to the dentist, Melina started telling me about Finding Nemo , the movie. This is a movie that I have seen countless times, while Melina has seen it about three times. I know the story, the characters, the outcome. Apparently Melina does not believe that I do. Melina: Mommy! Nemo was in the ocean, but then they put him in a fish tank. Me: I know. He did not like the fish tank, did he? Melina: No. Can a fish like Nemo live in a fish tank? Me: If the tank is the right one. Melina: Okay. And Nemo has a friend Dorothy. Me: I think you mean Dory. Melina: The blue and yellow fish. Her name is Dorothy. Me: Yes, the blue and yellow fish. Her name is Dory. And this is where the politician-like behavior comes in. Melina scrunched her face up, and looked off to her right. I could see the wheels turning in her head. She wa

Tim and I went out the other night for dinner. I know, I can't believe it happened, either. No kids, just us. We'd been meaning to do so for almost a year. I'd bought a certificate, a Double Deal or something, so we could spend $50, but we'd only paid $25 up front. Of course, the people had my money for almost a year, so they made some interest on it. Anyway, Tim and I love the place we went to, but it is a bit pricier than the standard pizza that we eat with the kids, if we go out. The menu changes, although I don't know how often. It doesn't matter...Tim and I are open to trying new foods. The dinner did not disappoint. The flavors were awesome, the presentation spectacular, and everything was cooked just right. And while we almost never order dessert, we thought we would in this case. We're never quite sure when we might get some more alone time. The dessert menu looked good. They had flan, dulche de leche, some ice cream concoctions, cheesecak

The kids have this thing they do. They all get together and perform a show, usually at nighttime, just before bed. They call it the star show . I cannot really remember why they call it that, but the show usually includes some form of light, i.e. baby music toy with lights, shaking light saber, or flashlight. Something at the back of my mind makes me think the light involved in the show is supposed to be coming from the stars. Heck, it is nighttime, right? Anyway, the show is usually painful to sit through. The kids have their dolls perform a skit or commercial, most of which doesn't make sense to us. If Aaron is involved, something odd will happen: strange made up words will show up or other things that make a 7 year old laugh and no one else. While Tim and I are thrilled that the kids use their imaginations and cooperate to bring these star shows to life, we usually hurry them along with the excuse that it is time for bed. I just admitted it. We are guilty. Last night

A while back, before the mass public started to crave The Hunger Games , my friend told me about the books. I requested them from the library (I didn' t have to wait at all for them to become available) and read all three books in the trilogy. I enjoyed them, but told the girls that they would need to wait to read them. I didn't feel as though the subject matter was quite appropriate for their age (almost 9 at that point), and to be honest, I knew they would not understand the story and any nuances that went with it. Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago. The Hunger Games movie is set to release at the end of March, and the girls had seen on the computer part of a trailer for it. "Please mom," they said. "Can we please read the book?" I have to give my kids credit where credit is due. I cannot monitor them all the time. They could, if they were sneakier, get the book from either the library (although there is now a major wait) or by some other mean

Because when I try to comment sometimes on blogs, I cannot type the two words in the box correctly. I think the words are nescrift and yuosef , but I am almost always wrong. And then, I get sent back to the box (again), only to try (again) with another set of letters that I just won't get right. I have seen one site that uses common math. What is 3 + 4? the prompt will say. Well that is something I can read! And answer for that matter! It would be nice if people could have both options presented, and then we could all choose.

FRN (Faithful Reader from the North) loves me. Well, yes, mostly because she is my sister, but probably some of it has to do with the fact that -- because of this blog -- she can laugh at my life and not just her own. I keep her in stitches, whether I mean to or not. I jumped in the other day on one of her FB conversations, and found out, to my surprise, that she does not love Star Wars. I love it, so since she loves me, shouldn't she love Star Wars? That reasoning would have flown way back when she was 5, but now, it just doesn't. My favorite character from Star Wars? Yoda, of course. He has always been my favorite Star Wars character. Part of it is how cute he is, and part of it is his voice. I love that voice, and how he speaks. Love it I do . In any case, since that conversation, I have found Yoda everywhere, even when I am not looking. One of the oddest places was at the library. Not odd, if you are in the Star Wars section of the library. I was not. But rig

On the way to the vet today (the outcome of that visit is for another post), Melina and I heard a siren. We were stopped at a light, so I looked around, and didn't see anything. Melina chimed in that she didn't see anything either. Her input was actually helpful, since we were in the minivan. I put my window down, but couldn't pinpoint where the noise was coming from. I carefully went through the intersection when the light turned green, and kept my eyes and ears open. Not more than 15 seconds later, I could see an ambulance quite a bit in the distance behind me, with both its lights on and its siren blaring. It was going at quite a clip, too. Since I was already in the right lane, it didn't take much for me to pull over and wait for it to pass. Unfortunately, I was the only one to do so. Everyone else on the road, many of whom were probably on the phone, didn't move over until the absolute last minute. The ambulance had to honk its horn, basically telling

Do you happen to be a fan of cats? Do you happen to be a fan of our Ferdinand, in particular? If so, please let me know. Sign a petition, call up the governor, do what you need to do to save this cat, because I am just about at my limit. I know, you thought I was at my limit way back at the golden showers incident . (Well, it wasn't quite a golden showers moment, if you know what those are, but when it rains urine, golden showers is an apt description, don't you think? [Google golden showers and see if that just doesn't either creep you out or give you a good laugh.]) I thought I was at my limit, too, but I guess I am a person who has developed a lot of patience over the years. I've had to do so, or I'd have already a gone crazy with 4 kids and 3 animals, not to mention a husband who is just slow about everything. In short, I wasn't at the limit, and could be pushed further. Add to that ginormous amount of patience a little side of guilt, and here we are

Every once in a while, a post comes along where you open yourself up to ridicule. This is one of those times. The information I divulge herein could be used for blackmail or extortion or just plain embarrassment, and yet I keep writing. TMI? You betcha. Don't say I didn't warn you to turn back and find another blog to read. Because I did. Onward and upward. (Maybe I should say downward.) There are so many things that I knew would happen as I got older. I knew my hair would thin, and eventually go gray. I knew that I would get wrinkles and that my skin would get drier. I knew my boobs would sag, although I really had no idea that they would vanish into nonexistence after nursing four kids. I knew I'd be more tired, and have less arm strength. I knew I'd be more nostalgic and more emotional. I knew the older me would be the same me, but at the same time, a different me. However, there are also the things I had no idea would happen. I probably should have had

Today is a Friday of Lent, and because we send our kids to a public school, there happen to be two meat choices on the lunch menu. I think the people that set up the menu must have been reminded about Lent at some point, because the menu for the rest of March just came home, and there is a meatless choice for the next couple of Fridays. To be quite honest, my kids rarely buy lunch, considering what I think is healthy and what they (meaning the school system) think is healthy differs markedly. Furthermore, I don't expect everyone to cater to our beliefs. I support the separation of church and state. But there is a large Catholic population in this area, and I do know that a good percentage of the children that go to our school rely on buying school lunches. In my mind, it is good to know that the powers that be care. However, I really do wonder about this whole meat free Friday thing. In fact, I have big issues with it. I remember, as a kid, going meatless on Ash Wednesday,

I don't always get the chance, but I like to post on the first day of the month. There are so many things I think about at the debut of a new calendar month, many of them simply pedestrian, some of the others, not. The dog needs to get his heart worm pill on the first day of the month, and I should change the filter in the furnace and the room freshener in the family room. There is a reason I put mundane tasks like that on day number 1. It is easier for me to remember to do them. But I always seem to think that once we turn over that calendar page, we have the option of starting over. You can say that I am old school, but I still rely on my paper calendars. Something about turning the page and hooking it up on the nail, it is ceremonial to me. We get a new lease on life. A new beginning. In the winter months, those new beginnings save me from wallowing in the doldrums. Other times, it just gives me a reason to start anew: perhaps I've been working too much, or not doi