Stylish Notes :: Boomerangs, Cape Cod and Hermes

So I was perusing the Hermes site as I like to do every so often. And as I was ready to head over to where I was heading over to, my eye caught sight of a category listed on the right hand side of my screen which simply said "surprise." And well, gosh, I love surprises, so I clicked on it. And this is what I saw. Yep, that's exactly what it is. A boomerang. A boomerang... an Hermes boomerang! Really? What on earth?! So clearly I am not of the ilk who can just toss $600 bucks on a wooden stick. I mean, really, who would toss $600 bucks on a wooden stick? And then, as though I needed to make a case for spending $600 on a wooden stick, because that's what I do... Not that I'd ever want such a thing. But look at it this way... You're really not tossing your money away, are you? I mean, it'll come right back to you, won't it?!

Some little girls want puppies.
Others want kitties.
Others still ponies.
And a few want unicorns.
Not me. My wish is simple. Requires no maintenance, walking, kitty litter or pooper scooper...
It is my one true love...
It is my dream...
And yes I do dream in color!

Ain't love grand?!


What a relief... (The weekend is here!)

via Aoki Interiors

I couldn't help myself! ;)

Isn't this just the best topiary... like ever?!

I found this on Facebook and just had to share it with you. I hope you all get some rest this weekend. I'm looking forward to getting some myself!



World's Best Father!

Have you heard of him? Have you seen him? If you haven't you will now!

Maryland-based photographer and father David Engledow began taking photographs of his daughter Alice Bee when she was an infant. The photographs, a series of tongue-in-cheek pictures were created to as a means of poking fun at the type of father Engledow hopes never to become.

The very first picture taken of Alice was with his wife when the baby was just a couple of months old. It was intended to be a single image of himself as a sleep-deprived and clueless new father. The main prop used was a mug that said "World's best Father" which ultimately became the source of amusement, and the inspiration behind these hilarious pictures.

Engledow told Huffington Post that “The character I portray in this series is intended to be a parody of the father I hope I never become -- distracted, self-absorbed, neglectful, clueless, or even occasionally overbearing." The photographer is currently on Kickstarter, where he’s raising money to turn the images into a calendar.

He adds that while the situations look perilous, his "cardinal rule is always to make sure that Alice is never actually in any danger." Engledow and Alice normally pose separately, and he Photoshops the images together into a final product.

For more of these hilariously-delightfully fun images, visit his Facebook page!
I hope you have a wonderful and Magnificent Monday and that these images bring a smile to your face!


Fifty Shades of Grey

I knew that title would catch your interest! This piece was inspired by my funny, sassy and terribly talented friend and Canadian decorator Meredith Heron who has had me laughing along as we joke about the book's verbiage and characters... not to mention that I've repinned a few of her "grey" pins from Pinterest. So please pay her website and blog a visit as soon as you are done here. You will thank me - they are Faboosh!

I hope not to disappoint you by telling you that this has nothing to do with the book other than the fact that I borrowed the title from it. It has to do with home decor, and the color grey; all the magnificent wonderful shades that lie somewhere in between white and black. In the past I never was much for grey inside my home as I tended to equate the color with sublimely masculine bedrooms of heavy hitting Wall Street Tycoons, designed by Ralph Lauren in a horsey way or bare, cold and modern, designed perhaps by Calvin Klein and these were simply not me. But lately these hues have caught my attention, captured my interest and my heart. The color grey is not at all cold and impersonal, but can be warm, soft and gentle.

Why don't you come upstairs with me!

S R Gambrel. Gorgeous #color sense.
SR Gambrel

Perhaps we should start in the bedroom...
You will see that grey can be warm, inviting, soft and entirely feminine.

love this!

pink and grey a winning combo!
Restoration Hardware Baby & Child

via Spanish Property for Sale

Pinterest, original source unknown

simple sanctuary.
Linda McDougal Design

Next, we'll quickly Sashay through the rest of the house to see all the wonderful ways grey can warm and calm and soothe your home. Even in her darker tones, there is nothing cold or harsh about her...

Perhaps we'll stop off for a quicky, er oops, I mean quickly in the living room!

House Beautiful

Mongolian Fur Benches...yes please
House Beautiful

S R Gambrel. #clean and perfect #design
SR Gambrel

grey = soft
The Glitter Guide

Living room from Desde My Ventana
Martha Stewart Living

Marcus Design Inc

Do you need to wash up? Use the restroom?

Gray + White
Better Homes and Garden

LB Palmetto Bluff : Linda McDougald Design | Postcard from Paris Home
Postcards from Paris

Did that make you hungry? Should we see what's in the kitchen? Perhaps we can cook up a little something together, you and I... You simply must eat... You need your energy!

LB Palmetto Bluff : Linda McDougald Design | Postcard from Paris Home
Postcards from Paris

Christopher Peacock's own kitchen
Christopher Peacock's Kitchen, original source unknown

Dark tile is sexy! Even better with a slight metallic sheen.

 Why don't you join me in the dining room?

kathleen clements 8
Kathleen Clements Design

Thank you so much for coming! I do hope you enjoyed your visit... let me walk you to the door and show you the way out...

Tumblr, original source unknown

Charcoal accents
House Beautiful

Bye, or perhaps I should say,

Laters Baby and I hope you have a fabulous weekend!



And she goes running for the shelter of her mother's little helper...

I remember singing the lyrics to this song when I was young. My friend Zoe had introduced me to the Rolling Stones. She had much older brothers and sisters and her mother was a fashion designer. And her father was a professor with a very handsome British accent. They were an eccentric family. I say this having grown up in Manhattan in the art world. These people were eccentric. Like Andy Warhol eccentric. But they were cool. And I liked Zoe. She was a bad girl. A Risk taker. An adventurer. I was the good girl. Non adventurous. Non risk taker. Until I met her I had never really gotten into trouble. Zoe was fun. Sneaking in to the Church of the Heavenly Rest, on 90th and Fifth, just blocks away from where we lived was fun. Attempting to climb up the bell tower with hopes that we wouldn't get caught was fun. Skate boarding down a couple of streets (after being chased out!) to get an ice cream from the Good Humor Man parked outside the Guggenheim Museum was fun. Zoe was fun. Hanging out and, listening to The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and Lilly Tomlin on her mother's bed was fun. Sneaking one of her mother's cigarettes was fun. Singing along to the records while sneaking cigarettes was fun.

And we'd croon... and the lyrics meant nothing to me in my youth... "what a drag it is getting old..."

And as I wandered into the wonderful Jonathan Adler store on Greenwich Avenue today I was immediately taken by these wonderfully amusing canisters. I stood in front of them for a long time. I smiled at the canisters and thoughts of Zoe and our childhood on the 11th floor of 1136 Fifth Avenue came flooding back to me. I laughed at the thought of two pre-teens singing about mother's little helper!

image via The Entertaining House
taken with Instagram

image via Google

Oh which ones should I get, pray tell??!!


Give the ol' weather the boot!

Many schools here in Southern Connecticut have decided to delay their opening by an hour and a half to two hours. Now, you may think this insignificant... a great excuse to sleep in... a perfect opportunity to let the kids sleep in... make a hearty, warm breakfast, relax a bit and not have to rush out the door. None of this is the case. When school is delayed the phone rings. Early. When school is delayed the children are up. Early. When school is delayed you still don't feel like cooking a full bacon, eggs and toast breakfast. When school is delayed someone still manages to forget something only to remember theveryminute you pull out of the driveway. When school is delayed the children are happy. Read hyper. When school is delayed mothers are in pissy, foul moods. We are easily annoyed. Especially when these 2-hour delays come after a very long (indeed) 4 day weekend. We want to resume our lives. We have work that we want and need to get done. We want our children as far away from us as possible. We even consider dropping them off at the school's front door at the regular start time. We want to enjoy our coffee in peace. We want to go to the gym...

We know a little dusting of snow isn't going to hurt us. We are creating soft children. We are creating lazy children. A little snow, rain and sleet never stopped us as kids. We had to go to school... uphill, without a car... in bare feet! We're tough and our kids are going to be wimps! Offices don't close because there's a dusting of snow on the ground. Can you imagine? Let me tell you some of the conditions in which I had to drive... in my non 4-wheel drive-slip-sliding-cherry-red Red Volkswagen Jetta. Puhleeze! Can you imagine if they did this in Canada?

Seriously, this is insane. I am starting to think that all these school delays and cancellations are the true causes behind the sudden rise in peanut allergies!

I'll quit bitchin'... I'm lucky I do have 4 wheel drive. I feel safe and comfortable in my car... But I'd love to ride in the one below... I'd say it's probably as comfortable as an old pair of boots!


And to the kindness of the wonderful and stylish Suze Stephenson of Well To Do You for sharing this picture with me... and to you Suze, cheers to Bubbles in a Boot!

Photo: L.L. Bean, Lincoln Benedict / AP.

Stay warm and dry... and if your kids have a delayed start too, Stay Sane!!!



Genius use for really stupid toy!

There are certain toys, that over the years, have caused me more angst than joy. The thought of these mere toys sets my pulse racing, my heart pumping and causes me to break out into hives. I've hurled a few words at these certain little pieces that seem to find themselves not properly put away in tidy boxes or baskets but hiding where you'd never look for them, causing you to scream like a holymotherfckuer when you bare foot accidentally and unwillingly steps down upon it with full force. Simply put there are certain toys I hate.

I love Legos for their sheer creative brilliance but the soles of my feet hate them with unbridled passion.

I dislike everything about those super-sized automated Nerf guns. Everything. But more specifically I hate the tens of thousands of orange foam darts that take hours to pick up and put away and somehow magically reappear theverymoment you leave the room.

I hate the markers that are found without their tops. (Especially when they are mine!)

I hate Polly Pocket. I want to go over and personally slap the person silly who came up with those tiny dolls and tiny dresses, and ohmygodthoseeffingtinyshoes! Ten years later I am still finding random shoes and wigs and purses in my daughter's hot pink flokati rug. Just when you think you've found the last one... Perhaps the dumbest items by far that I have ever come across have also gotten lost and tangled up in that hot pink flokati.

I hate to think of the hundreds of dollars wasted on some stupid pieces of rubber shaped like flowers or cars or animals that my kids just had to have. I curse myself for the wasted dollars. I should have gotten them a rubber band ball instead. I should have told them to be leaders, not followers. I should have told them to start a new trend. Rubber bands come in fab colors as well. Rubber bands look great as bracelets. They're rockin'! I should have told them. But, if I had, someone wouldn't have come up with a most genius idea... and I wouldn't have carried it one step further...

I found this on Pinterest. I thought it was brilliant. I thought I could do better!

Because everything's better with bubbly, right?!

I definitely like the green turtle better! And as I was playing Alexander walked in. He wanted to know what I was doing. So I told him. And he offered a helping hand!

Cheers! And I know you'll all drink happier knowing that you won't need to worry about finding those silly little wine glass markers ever again!


Christmas at the Entertaining House

So, we're here. It's upon us. Christmas is here. It's Christmas Eve Eve, which to my children means that Christmas is here. And I am not ready. Not even close. Not even close to being close. My house is a mess. Better than that, it's a disaster. I need to clean and tidy and vacuum and mop. I have hours of cleaning ahead of me. I have bags in the back of my car. I've started purchasing for my kids but I have no idea what I've gotten. It's all been a crazy chaotic blurr. The traffic, the insane drivers, the crowds, the lines, the mass disorganization has my head spinning. I have clothes in the back of the car. Lots and lots of clothes. My kids need clothes desperately and I've scored some amazing sales. I need fillers and they need clothes. Seems like a win-win situation for me!

Of course I can just see the enthusiasm as my 11 year old son opens boxes of clothes. Clothes are so not his thing. But I needed filler and he needs clothes. And that's how I'm operating this year, dammit! Gift cards are the hot ticket item this season. My older two want gift cards. Boring gift cards. I understand them wanting to shop and being able to pick out the things that they want. Rebecca will spend hours in the mall (Lord help me!) and I am not all entirely sure what Christopher will do with his. Alexander is easy. He still likes toys. Toys make everything easier. Why do kids have to grow up?

So you see, I find Christmas quite painful. Rebecca will get her gift cards and she will be over the moon delighted. She'll start plotting out her trip to this store and that store. This is a case of this hurts me more than it hurts you. I'm not a big shopper. In fact, truth be said, I really hate shopping. If I need something I go in for what I want. I don't have any desire to walk around aimlessly in and out of stores. My legs get sore. My feet ache. My back hurts. Can we go home yet? Are we there yet? Ok, that looks good, now let's get out of here! If I could I would groan. Rebecca got shortchanged. She got a mother who does not like to shop. She got a mother who hates to shop. Joy will be the day when she can wander the mall alone, without me. Ugh, no that won't be joyous at all. I won't have a Mall Rat for a daughter! There's still time. Maybe those gift cards can still be returned... They certainly haven't been wrapped.

I will try to hide in the playroom and wrap this afternoon. I'm really hoping the kids will let me. I'll set everything up on the craft table and I'll turn on the television to entertain me. I'll organize the gifts in to piles and then I will panic if one child gets more than the other because you know they're counting and comparing! Boy did my parents have it easy with my being an only child! I'll look at the boxes I bought, glance at the gifts, the rolls of wrapping paper and stick-on bows... I have the tape and the scissors and am ready to go. I start to panic. I can feel it. My heart rate speeds up. I start to feel warm. I take off my sweater. My chest tightens up.The wrapping is overwhelming. I'm overwhelmed. I can't do it. I have to. I can't back down! I'll go downstairs, pad across the family room where the kids will be watching TV, open up a cabinet, grab a glass, grab the bottle of red on the counter-top, and pad back across the family room and back up to the playroom. I'll pour myself a little glass of hope, take a sip, and get to work.

I used to love to wrap bk... (before kids.) Back then I would painstakingly dress up packages in beautiful papers and elegant ribbons. In those days each package looked like something that could adorn the cover of Martha Stewart's Living magazine. With each and every kid I had, my patience grew less and less. Soon, a love for wrapping became pure hatred. I've developed sort of a fear of it lately, maybe even a phobia. Is it Toomuchtowrapaphopia? Fearofbrightlycoloredpaperaphobia?

I ask myself why do we wrap? Where did this tradition come from? (Note to self: Google history of wrapping!) Why can't we just  leave everything under the tree as is and have a free for all?

Each gift takes about 3-5 minutes to wrap and 15 seconds to unwrap. Do the math. The numbers just don't add up. This seems like both a waste of time and energy. Seems like this is neither good for our trees or landfills. Sorry Hallmark.

Don't even get me started on the mess the torn wrapping paper makes! This is another phobia of mine, torn shreds of paper, and wadded up paper balls strewn across my floors. Bits of ribbon here... bits of cardboard there... It drives me mad!  I can't sit idly and let the colorful papers cover my floor like confetti after some grand celebration... I can't. I start to itch and twitch. STOP! I shout to the kids. I make whoever is unwrapping take a timeout. I run to the kitchen in full blown panic attack mode and open the cabinet beneath the sink. I've got the Glad bag in my hand, my breathing slows, my pulse slows... soon all will be OK with the world again! My family knows this about me. One of my little foibles.

Now I'm sitting on my bed (that needs to be stripped) in my pink and green Lilly Pulitzer pajamas (Christmas present to myself last year) and I am tuning out everything around me. I'm experiencing typical ADHD avoidance. I need to change 4 beds. I need to shower. I need to make breakfast. I need to pick up a few presents and I need to wrap and I wonder just how much longer I can put that off. Is it too early to pour myself a cup of cheer?

Next year I vow to have everything taken care of by Thanksgiving!



my conversation with Siri...

I replaced my old iPhone yesterday with the new one with the latest technology, her name is Siri, and she is genius. You talk to her and she’ll do whatever you want. So I thought I should thank her. I offered her a glass of wine…

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No other phone has known me so well!!!



Fuck the rain!

It's only Tuesday and I've had a hell of a week that will see more valleys before I can see clearly again from a sunny mountain top. Now it's raining to add insult to injury. I need one of these. It's absolutely brilliant in my mind! I'm a New Yorker born and bred and sometimes I just want to stand up and yell #%&C #*@! as loud as I possibly can!

Umbrella and images via artlebedev



Advent Calendars...

My kids love their advent calendars almost as much as they love Christmas.. They bring on the excitement of the season.

But why should the children have all the fun?

I've found one for myself this year. Yes, for me. But I'll be more than happy to share with you.

So what do you think?

Genius, isn't it?!

image via Style me Pretty who originally used them as table markers. 
I love the advent calendar idea better.Idea via Ali LaFleur


Popsicle molds... for realz?

So my personal, touching, inspiring post is taking longer to write... distractions galore, injuries and other obligations interfere with my blogging. It shouldn't be the case. The blog should come first but alas it cannot... so I leave you with this image. An image for a hot summer day. Unless you are somewhere where the sun is not shining. And I pose this question to you. Does this really look like a popsicle mold? Does anyone see what I see? Anyone? I am quite sure that the editors of New York Magazine didn't!

Happy Friday Folks!
Keep Cool Man!

5 Rules for hitting the road to Newport so Mommie Dearest can go to the Jack Rogers Trunk Show at Angela Moore!

Ok, so that's not the main, reason I'm headed back to Newport, but it is one of the reasons I am headed back! This time I'm going with the kids. Wish me luck in the car. Wish me lots of luck. My kids are not good travelers. My friend JoAnna recently drove her 4 kids  ages 5 and under from Virginia to Massachusetts. Not only did she survive. But the kids were... gasp... well behaved!

Put my three in a car together for 5 minutes and let the battles begin! I separate my kids by rows. Seriously. My oldest is old enough to be up front. The boys battle for the 2nd and 3rd rows. I pack an arsenal of activities and food. We have videos to watch and play. (Only allowed on the highway portion of our journey.) We have beverages and snacks galore in case we break down in the tundra that exists between my home and Newport, 2 and a half hours away! We have blankets and stuffed animals to keep us warm. (It's 64 and rainy today) Most importantly I have Duct Tape. In Zebra pattern. I also keep a pair off garden shears in the car for those moments I see and must cut down beautiful flowers... The garden sheers can be used for the Duct Tape. The Duct Tape will promptly be applied to the mouths of those children who
a) don't stop talking
b) don't stop whining
c) don't stop asking "are we there yet?" or
d) any of the above

Rule #1 I drive and therefore I am in charge of all music. And when the good Country stations come in clear this is what I will listen to. I don't care if this makes you puke. If you are going to puke kindly do so in a garbage bag.

Rule #2 I am in charge of all snacks. This way there is no she had more or he had more.

Rule #3 Keep your hands to your selves. Hit hitting pinching pulling hair spit balls. No shouting shrieking wining crying screaming. Yes, I really have children and not wolves... though sometimes I am unsure of this myself.

Rule #4 Dispose of all garbage properly. My car is not a garbage can. Neither is it a closet for all your items your sorry asses are too lazy to drag in. If you suddenly realized that your animal or blankie has been left in the car and youabsolutelypostively cannot go to sleep without it you will go retrieve it yourself. In the dark. Alone. Yes there are coyotes and raccoons out there. Yes there are skunks. Plenty of skunks. Snakes too. I am sick of risking my lives for you lazy little children who could not be bothered to retrieve your items when you were asked. You'll have to be brave and go out into the wild alone or do without.

Rule #5. You will not go all animal-like on me the minute you get there. Treat your grandparent's house like a museum. Not like a zoo my precious little animals.

Should you follow all these rules you will be handsomely rewarded.
One more thing...

There is something I want to do. You will have to come with me. Exemplary behaviour is EXPECTED of you while in public. If you do one thing to embarrass me ... and I mean ONE THING I will ship you back to the place you all came from with all three receipts and demand a full refund. Oh I know you are all thinking "Ha Ha. Very funny Mom. Hospitals don't give receipts." And to you I will reply you are wrong. I have the bills from each and every one of you. I will be a very rich lady when I cash in my bills!"

And with the money I will make in return of each of  you precious gems I will head here!

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the trouble with strawberries...

You see I don't live a quiet or uneventful life. I never have and I suppose I never will. For those of you who have read my posts over the past few days you know my life is, well, in chaos and upheaval. There's always something going on. Usually it's not good. Usually it's bad. Very bad. But this is not a place where I shall ever air my dirty laundry. I will be open and honest and candid, perhaps to a fault, but I will not do anything to upset or harm my children's lives, current or future. Some incidents are so ridiculous I can only laugh. Some are so terrible I can do nothing but run, hide and cry. Yet still all this aside I must mother my children. And live my life. This also means taking care of me. I'm pretty good at that. I work out frequently and have recently taken up Zumba which I adore! And no one laughs at me when I go to the left and everyone else is going to the right. I love the dance. Yes, I dance like a total white girl but I love it none the less. I love that I can escape from the harsh realities of my little world and for an hour be transported away and have a blast and end up feeling happy, accomplished and dripping in sweat. I still go to physical therapy to work on my problem shoulder that was operated on some 14 months ago. I try to watch what I eat and what I drink. I look at the bright side of things. I never leave the house without a smile. I am self deprecating. I never take myself too seriously. Over the past year I have learned not to sweat the small stuff, to slow down, and be patient. In addition to my troubled shoulder I have been plagued by neck issues. I was examined first by my orthopedic surgeon and then by a neck specialist. I was sent for Xrays and an MRI and it was determined that I have a degenerative condition that has left the nerves in my neck on both sides damaged. The left more so than the right. It was recommended a while ago that I seek treatment and relief from a spinal epidural. Sheer fear caused me to put it off for months and months and months. When medications (some strong) and physical therapy seemed no longer to be helping  and I could no longer sleep or turn my neck I agreed to let them treat my neck. (Turning neck is of most importance when driving and caring for children!)

I scheduled my appointment two weeks ago. I was told to lay off all NSAIDs and blood thinners. I remembered all the pre surgery rules from last time, but in case I needed a refresher my cousin who happens to be an anesthesiologist left me the following instructions on my Facebook page last night:

"It's a very quick procedure. Leave your jewelry at home, rings are ok, but earrings and necklace are not. Light makeup is fine, leave the heavy bronzer, the blue eye shadow, and and the frosted silver city pink Lips at home. Go natural makeup. Comfy clothing, easy on and off. Likely you will keep your pants on, just wear a jonnie. Wear yoga pants or something light w elastic. It's much less drama and nonsense than the surgery."

Isn't she hilarious? Of course I had to ask about my iPhone... as though I would be Tweeting away throughout the procedure!

I was also instructed not to eat anything after Midnight. The no coffee thing in the morning always gets me. That's just cruel!

So everything was fine until what I shall now refer to as The Strawberry Incident.

I was washing the blueberries and cutting up the strawberries for the kids this morning. We don't have much food in the house and today was not going to be a day for grocery shopping. I had a few strawberries that didn't look as though they were fully ripe. So then I did what any loving mother does. I tasted one to make sure that it was ok. SHIT FUCK GODAMMIT... I am not supposed to eat anything. Although I am sure one little, ok not that little, strawberry would matter.  I continued to cut up the rest of the fruit.

Fast Forward an hour and I am checking in at the outpatient surgical center. I hand them over my photo ID and insurance card, pay the copay and answer a plethora of questions regarding my "procedure." When was the last time I ate. Crap. Do I have to answer this? Can I lie? Can I fudge it a little. I could pretend that I had nothing. And then I would seize up and aspirate on the table, ugly surgical gown open in back exposing my orange polka dotted (!) underwear. I put a lot of thought into my decision for just this purpose. White is too boring. Black, lace, zebra and cougar send the wrong message... Ok, I don't really own cougar patterned pants!

Not wanting to die in my orange underwear with my 12 year old in charge of my other two I fessed up to the strawberry. Well... you shoulda seen the look on everyone's faces. It was as though I had taken Charlie's Golden Egg! After I filled out my forms I went over to the chairs in the waiting area passing by the coffee maker and the water machine. Is this really necessary? We can't eat, drink, have coffee. Couldn't these be placed out in the hallway? Or outside? Or, like, another town for crying out loud?

My mouth is dry. Like cotton. My stomach is rumbling. Like the tiger at the zoo. A nurse comes up to me with this cup of orange nastiness (much the same color of my underwear!) and tells me to drink. It will help speed up my digestive juices. As she hands me the cup she tells me that the appointment scheduled to come after me will go ahead of me. Because of the damned strawberry.

At this point I completely lose my cool. There is nothing elegant or graceful or dignified about my behavior as I rant and cry and scream about how it's all so unfair and I have my daughter babysitting at home and she can't be asked to watch the kids all day and how a strawberry, a stupid little strawberry, shouldn't do this. It's not fair... I sound like my 5 year old and figure I pretty much look like him too. Not my finest or proudest moment. But I've been nervous about this procedure and in pain for too long and there is so much going on in my life and I just can't take it anymore and  then the head nurse comes over to talk with me. We go off to a little room. I wipe my tears and stifle my sniffles. She asks if I would be willing to have this done without any anesthesia. "Without any pain medicine at all?" I ask incredulously, nervously.  I was told I would have pain relief and a mild sedative. PERFECT! I'll take it! And off I go to where the patients go. And into my lovely hospital gown I go. Bathrobe and booties too. At this time I am now known as The Girl That Ate the Strawberry. I am escorted over to a holding area where a comfy reclining chair, warm blanket and IV are waiting for me.

I ask what the IV is for. It's for the Versed, I am told. It's the medicine that will calm me and soothe me off to La La Land. I told her it would be better suited for champagne. Better to go with my strawberry, I added.

For all of you who voiced concern I am well and recovering and the Versed is very much like champagne. I had a good day! :)


How I'd like to be remembered...

As a mother of three young children almost everything I do in my life I do for my children, whether directly or indirectly. I am many things. But first I am a mother. It is my responsibility to give them the stepping stones needed to create a successful and happy life for each of them. They need to know that they are loved. They need to know that they are smart. They need to know that they are supported and will be supported in all that they do and all that they want to do. They need to know that trying new things is important. They need to make mistakes. Mistakes are integral to learning and living and growing and surviving. They need to smile. Every day. A smile will carry you far. They need to see their glasses as always being half full. A positive attitude will be their best friend. They need to be kind. They need to be cautious. They need to be curious. They need to be polite. They need to be gracious. They need to be children while they are still young. They need to be good friends - to each other as well as to their peers. They need to be independent thinkers and yet they need to learn to play on a team. They need to learn that their friends won't necessarily think like they do. They need to learn that this doesn't make their friends wrong.

As their mother I am their role model. It is up to me to ensure that these goals are all met and followed daily. We talk about their friends and school. I want them to be model citizens. It all starts at home and in the classroom. I also want them to be successful and I want them to follow their passions. Finding and following their passions, to me, is the most important of all.

Life is tricky. There are many twists and turns, bumps and glitches along it's path. It's important, therefore, to have something to be passionate to fall back on or lean on or go to when life hits one of those rough patches. I have my writing and my photography (and my blog!) I have a good pair of running shoes and my iPhone with all my favorite songs. I have the most fabulous and supportive friends.

It is important that my children think of me as more than just a mother. I am more. I am much more. I want them to know and to see first hand how much I love life. I want them to see that I notice all the small details around me... that I have the ability to see just how beautiful life is, even when the storm is directly overhead. I want them to see how I interact with my friends. I want them to see me taking care of myself -- physically and emotionally. I want them to see me following my passions and working hard. I hope one day soon they see me as successful in their eyes. I want them to see me as multi-faceted. Because yes, I am and always will be their mother, but I am and always will be so much more.

I want my children to be proud of me.

I also want my children to see how my friends remember me - really enjoying life!

"She had a cocktail in her hand and confetti in her hair!"

image via Pinterest

Happy Sunday and may you all take some time out to enjoy today!