You can be my wingman anytime.

Today a former co-worker invited me to a matinee special 25th Anniversary release of Top Gun. I took my bff and we had an afternoon of the wonderful kind of reminiscing that only an '80's movie can bring. Seriously, it really was fun. Cheesy line after cheesy line, hilarious 'meaningful' closeups, and all of the fun that comes from a formulaic film that you just happen to know almost every line to. Plus, it was really nice to remember how hot and un-crazy the young Tom Cruise was. And who knew Tim Robbins was in it??

And of course, I'll pay matinee prices to watch the volleyball scene any day.

Mama, why didn't you baweeve me?

(WARNING: Contains graphic picture)

Everything was going so smoothly.

I was babysitting for my neighbor JK. Foster daughter, M, was in the shower, I had Baby P in a swing and NJ (3.5 yrs) and G were playing on the trapeze bar of the swing set. NJ and G are both too short to reach the bar so the two of them, without my help, figured out that by moving the kiddie picnic table under the trapeze bar they could reach. It was awesome watching them figure out how to move it themselves. There were a few moments of trial and error as one would lift an end but the other wouldn't creating a see-saw effect. But without my interference and through much giggling, they figured they needed to lift simultaneously. I was really proud! Especially since they both have very strong personalities and alternate between being best friends and mortal enemies.

NJ knew exactly what to do: Stand on table, grab bar, swing out, swing back, put feet on table, let go. G's experience went something like this: Stand on table, grab bar, swing out, let go, fall. After one particularly hard fall he started whining for me to help him. And no matter how much he whined I just kept telling him he could do it himself, be brave. (You can see where this is going, can't you? Mom-o'-the-year-award, right?) So he gets up, grabs on, swings out, lets go, falls super hard on his butt. He fell so hard on his butt that it actually forced his head back and he whacked a corner piece underneath the table. I jumped up thinking, "Ohh this is gonna need ice" only to see him take his hand away from the back of his head dripping with blood. Sooooo, I sent NJ inside for M while I took a sec to gather my senses. You know how in an emergency you sort of stand there for a second and it's like your brain is a slot machine and everything is whirring around until suddenly, bing, bing, bing, all the cherries line up in a row and you know what to do? Well, once my brain cleared, I decided the best thing to do was to call an ambulance b/c that, at least, would give me enough to time find out a) if Mike was home yet and b) figure out what to do with the kids I was supposed to be watching. M came out of the house and immediately her poor face went pale when she saw what was going on, b/c by this time G'd bled all over the porch step and all over the lawn chair he tried to sit in (the chair is still stained. Looks like someone was shot in it.) As calmly as I could, I told her to get me the kitchen towel and then asked her to run to my house to see if Mike was home, which, thankfully he was. We heard the sirens start up (b/c literally, we are four blocks from the station. They could have walked over.) Three of the nicest paramedics helped G out. And of course I had to repeat what happened over and over for each of them. Meanwhile I also had to call JK and tell her that I was leaving the kids with M b/c I had to take my kid to the ER. And poor M was kind of shell shocked. I sort of shoved the baby at her and said, "I'm so sorry, sweetie. I'll come back as soon as I can." Then I went home to get the car and Mike went w/ G in the ambulance even though it turns out he refused to get into it unless they promised to drive slowly and not turn on the sirens. :) Anyway, to the ER we go, where I have to recount the story four more times, feeling guiltier and guiltier with each telling. Soooo, to wrap up this long ass story, five stitches and one super brave little boy later, we went home and Mike ran to Culvers to get everyone strawberry shakes. :) And his stitches are out now and with the exception of every once in a while asking, "Mama, why didn't you baweeve me when I telled you I need you to catch me?" all of us have healed.

Here's before the stitches (but after he was cleaned up):

Phone vs Toilet: and the winner is....

The toilet, hands down. So no texting for me for awhile, which is probably good considering I am constantly over my monthly allowance anyway. My phone is currently in pieces in a bowl of rice b/c several people have recommended that method for drying it out. We'll see. It's hard to be w/o one though. Esp since our home phone is on the fritz and we had to unplug it. It dialed 911 for us. Wasn't that nice of it? Of course, it should have waited for an emergency. Or, you know, at the very least for us to be home at the time. I'm sure those poor firemen had better things to do.

So Hard to Say Goodbye

We knew it would happen someday. You can't have five pets and think that they're all going to live forever. But that doesn't make it any easier to accept. Today I had to make the decision to put Jasmine down. She was originally one of my parent's cats that Mike and I took into our home after my mom passed away. She was sassy and sweet and talkative and so social. She loved greeting new people, purred the loudest and chirped every single time you touched her. She was the most laid back girl and we loved every minute of having her in our life. I found this picture and it's unrecognizable compared to what she was today. This picture is of the robust, healthy 11 lb kitty. Two years of struggling with hyperthyroidism, left her at a skeletal 3.5 lbs. The vet was phenomenal. She's been working with me all this time to try the best combo of meds, we had every test possible done. But as most of us know too well, you can't win them all. I called the clinic today and left a message for sweet Dr. Kim. Within a half an hour she called me back and told me to bring Jazzy and she'd squeeze me in between patients. She took one look at my face and one look at Jasmine and said, "Sweetie, you are doing the right thing." She let me stay while she put her down and took my payment right there so I wouldn't have to deal with the front desk at all. She sent me on my way with a huge hug and a "it's all better now". Grant was with me and as this was his first real lesson on death, he handled it like a champ. While we're not overly religious people, I have found that using God as an explanation has helped him understand a lot of the little things in life. Through his own tears, he touched my arm and said, "Don't cry, Mommy. I think Jazzy will like God a lot. And she'll have fun while she's waiting up there for you!" My mom's birthday is coming up this Sunday the 6th and I've decided that she must have thought that having Jazzy join her was a good birthday present. As Dr. Kim wrapped Jazzy in a blanket and we headed towards the door, Grant and I both said, "Say hi to Grandma for us! She's going to be so happy to have you back."

Good bye, Jazzy. You were the most wonderful cat and we are honored that you chose our family to love.

And, Happy birthday, Mom. Give Jazzy a kiss for us.

Undergarments Optional

I have three jobs. Did you know that? I have three jobs. Well, correction: I have three jobs that I receive monetary compensation for performing. In actuality my job titles for both my paid and unpaid range in the double digits but that's another post altogether.

Job one I acquired six years ago in Denver. I was sick to death of my crappy legal secretary/paralegal position for an equally crappy boss, so I began 'moonlighting' as a bookseller. It didn't take long before I realized that while the pay was (much) less than the legal position, book selling made me happy. I was excited to go to work again! That was a feeling I hadn't experienced since my days as a preschool/daycare provider. And what a liberating feeling that was. After a few months, Mike and I agreed to tighten our purse strings and let me quit the law firm and take on book selling full time. Best. Decision. Ever. The flexibility of the job has allowed me to rearrange my schedule whenever the need arises. I don't have to cringe with fear at the prospect of calling out when I have to stay home with a sick kid. I get to meet super interesting people and work with the most incredible staff. And best of all? It's my job to read so that I know what I'm selling! Does it GET any better? (Well, maybe if I were a food critic...)

My second job came about a year and a half ago when my bff saw her business take off to a point where she found herself needing some outside help. At the time I was toying with the idea of taking on a second job, one where I could work from home since I'd dropped my hours at the bookstore to stay at home with our son. I volunteered to do some data entry work for her and since then she's been sending contract work my way every few months. Even though the things I do for her only take up two or three days of my time every few months, I can't really describe how fun it is to help her. My bff is so successful that she *giggle* needs MY help! :)

The third job is very similar to my second in that I am able to witness the amazing effects of another person's success. A few years back, my sister started her own shop in order to sell her work. Little did she, or anyone, know just how successful she'd be. Let's just say that in addition to all of the time she, personally, puts into her shop, her husband has quit his job to become her full time assistant and I am now her almost-full time assistant. A little bit before Christmas, she asked if I'd come aboard as the 'official email answer-er' (I'm thinking of creating a nameplate for my desk that says that.) to help keep her head above water. What started as a two or three hour a day project has now become a five to six hour a day, six days a week job. Apparently, I'm such a good 'official email answer-er', that I have become the 'order confirmation expert' and 'feedback giver expert'. (I'm going to need a bigger desk...) But the best part of this job is that for several hours a day, I am able to video chat with my sister, brother-in-law and 3 1/2 yr old nephew. And two cousins who live states apart, get to see and talk to each other every day.

It's funny because with all those jobs, only one of which I am able to do without also having to be full time mommy, you'd think I'd be a lot more overwhelmed. And while I certainly have my days, I think I'm just so HAPPY with all of these jobs that I don't stop to think about it. One job I get to socialize and talk books, touch books, smell, organize and display books. The other two I can do in my pajamas. Of course I am very aware of how fortunate I am to have multiple jobs in an economy where so many people don't even have one. But it's so nice to be able to say that simply having a job is not what makes me thankful. It's who I work for and with and what I do that makes these jobs so fabulous. Plus, there's really something to be said about being able to work without having to put on a bra.

Victoria's Secret Peach Body Lotion.

Every night after a shower and just before bed, with the clean, humid scent of shampoo and soap still in the air my mother would moisturize her skin with Victoria's Secret Peach Body Lotion. Then she'd sit cross legged on her bed to file her nails. She had this down-to-an-art-form ritual of pushing back her cuticles with the little rubber tip of her nail file, cleaning her fingernails, filing them to precisely rounded tips and finishing it off with special cuticle cream. I used to love to sit and watch her during this nightly routine. We'd talk about our day or discuss the plot of our new favorite book, but mostly I just watched. She had the most beautiful hands. Artist's hands. I would marvel at the gently bulging blue veins on the backs and the strong perfect fingers. And soft. So soft. I never grew out of loving, no, needing to hold her hand. When I was young and suffering from severe bouts of car sickness, she'd turn around in her seat, reach her arm over the headrest and take my hand. Who knows how many hundreds of miles she sat like that just to hold my hand. As I got older and succumbed to hours and hours of depression caused sobs, her hands would hold mine and stroke my hair and rub my back.

And when she was dying and she would have days of unconsciousness, I would lay on the floor next to her bed just so I could hold her hand. And when she finally passed away, she did so with those hands curled up next to her face in a pose so peaceful even the coroner couldn't help but comment on the loveliness.

Sometimes, late at night when I'm sad or lonely or missing her so badly my whole body feels ready to shatter into a thousand pieces, I am comforted by her hands. I envision them so vividly and feel their warm, soft, strength so perfectly I can almost fool myself into thinking that for a moment she's slipped her hand into mine. Sometimes I swear I can even feel a gentle squeeze. And always, I smell the Victoria's Secret Peach Body Lotion.

Can I get a GO, PACK, GO!! ?

It's snowing again. Of course. Because we didn't get enough the other day. And after spending most of last week down and out with the flu, I now have a crazy painful chest cold. But who cares. IT'S SUPER BOWL SUNDAY!! And for the first time since college, the Packers are in it! So in honor of this fab day that I think still has most of WI in a state of awe and excitement, and as a little shout out to my home town, here are a few of my favorite Packer pics.

GO, PACK, GO!!!