Who?

Who would she be without him?

Who would he be without her?

(Who would I be without you?)

I wouldn't be without you.

Can you spy?

A blue jay?

MANY inches of HEAVY wet snow?
New blond highlights and perhaps your face?

Don't you just love....

Side by side snow angels

and somoas (I don't care that they are called carmel delites now...they will always be somoas)

and kissing cousins???

I do!

The good, the bad, and the ugly

In order to practice keeping things alive, some houseplants were purchased. You with you offspring might not remember the days when someone or something elses' livelihood being in your care was kind of a daunting thought.

Well, something needed to practice being alive in this place. Meet, Norma, Nama and Sprout. Your plants-in-law or something of the sort. Grandplants? Pleices and Plephews? I don't know.


They need water, and stuff like that. Sometimes we chat. Mostly about whether they (we) are getting enough sun.

Because I now know that I can dole out proper TLC, I think I know that I'm almost ready for a dog again.

Sometimes I think of getting a dog and want to throw my hands up in the air in defeat. There will never be another as sweet as my girl.

And sometimes I wonder how I can live without that kind of love and companionship. My heart has ached for it.

It almost makes me feel bad for saying things like "it's the end of the month, only the loser dogs will be left" as we drove to the humane society the other day. JUST to look. We torture ourselves monthly. But I feel ok saying things like that because I know someone will soon loves these dogs.But, I mean, I'm sorry, it won't be me.

Their tongues are too skinny.

Because the sun stays in the sky a little longer.
Because the birds are coming back for spring.
Because the plants are still alive.

I know that the winter blues are ending.

And the dog days of summer will be mine again.

Once there was a tree...and she loved a little boy.

And the boy loved the tree very much.

And the tree was happy.

Excerpts from the Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein

And the Lady Bug Wins

Tonight I put the kids to bed and climbed into bed myself at 7:07. Friday night. Hubby is at his parent's prepping for a l-o-n-g day of school tomorrow. But, it didn't stick.

Nonie and Dec both bouncin' off the bedsheets come 7:32. Not Tired. I tell Dec to stay put while I take Nonie down for a re-fill. Of the milk variety. While the fridge is open I am reminded that I haven't given her an evening dose of her (much-hated) Amoxicillin (meds for pneumonia). Before I grab the milk jug, I hand her the bottle of meds (to keep her occupied during my 2 second journey to the kitchen counter).

Smart girls as she is, Nonie takes the liquid meds in her tiny hands and without hesitating, walks them to the door below the sink, opens the door and drops the meds in the garbage can. She shuts the door, turns around and clings to my kneecaps in anticipation of her bottle of milk. Tell me what you really think about those meds, Nonie?

Nestled deep within that tiny body and those compelling blue blue eyes - there is a strong-willed woman in there. I love to see glimpses of her. She offers only glimpses and I savor them as I can. For the time being, that strong-willed woman hidden deep within a 17-month old body would much rather play with ladybugs than take her meds.

And I can't blame her.

Back in the Day

So much talk about snow coming and storms brewing lately. This winter has kept so many glued to the TV. The weather becomes the news about once every two weeks. When will the first flake fall? How many inches will we get? Snowdrifts and black ice... Snow days and cars off the road - oh my.

Standing in the pitch black forest up in Stowe one night last week (while waiting for the dogs to do their thing) the wind blew through the brittle winter trees. It was a beautiful sound. The dogs crunched through the snow. My slow heavy breathing grew slower and heavier.

It was a peaceful moment and all I could think about was back in the day.

Long before hype overshadowed a snowstorm, and forecasters one-upped each other with predictions and estimates - what did that cold wind blowing and first few drops of snow mean to people? Did they wonder how much would come, or how long the snow would last? Did they look to the threatening clouds and think, I wonder if I have enough milk? Or This is going to be a real pain in the neck to shovel.

Back when there were modest wooden homes nestled deep in the woods, way back to when teepees dotted the horizon...what did a snowstorm bring with it?

I picture people looking up to the sky with a grateful indifference then sauntering back to the coziness of their home wrapped up in layers of fur and sipping steaming cups of tea for days on end.

If you listen to the cold wind blowing, that is what it sounds like it is telling us all to do.

Relax.

You snooze you lose.

It's been so boring around here lately.
The birds don't even want to come around and eat my boring suet.

We left some suet out on the back deck a few months ago.

They didn't even eat a nibble.

Maybe I should take a nibble of it? Then they will see a nibble out of it and think it is desirable suet? Everyone stealin' nibbles.

Well I'm only thinking of that now. It's too late, kind of. Because I went out and bought a suet holder and new batch of suet. Trying to lure the birds.

I hope they all left for the winter. I feel okay saying this because winter is almost over and they'll start coming back. The thing is, I hear them in the trees in the morning. Plotting their next "code brown" (thank you Tese) on my car.

Maybe they are singing about how boring things are around here.

I can't wait til those Southern birds get back and teach 'em a thing or two about manners.

See?

Boring.

WORKING VS MOTHER

It was a battle last week. The working part of me had busy days. The mother part of me had a child with another ear infection.

Thanks to my family I didn't have to take a day off work. I dumped sicky on Tar with her kids for one day and Googy for another.

But having between 3-4 hours of sleep at night did start to take it's toll.

I had black rings under my eyes and some less than desirable facial blemishes. Everyday added a new one. When I picked sicky up from Tar's house I sat in the car and made a work call. Trying silence a whiny child with an ear infection, I gave him my lips to hold. One minute on the phone and off we go, I buckle up so we can hit the road (I am making an effort not to talk and drive anymore). As I turn I see that my lips (a big tube of Palmers coco butter that looks like a glue stick) had been opened, dug out of the tube with with a tiny finger, and applied all over sicky's face. And my first thought is, well at least I don't wear lipstick.

Another night goes by, another fever to tend to and cries of pain to soothe. But at least it's Friday. As I drive away from Googy and Xave playing choochoo I realize I am make-up less.

I have on my red pants and red pin for Women with Heart Disease (3/4 patients I was seeing that day) and my paler then paler face spotted with "blemishes" and "bags". I decide against turning back home, not wanting to interrupt the bonding and or napping that is going on between a boy and his grandpa. So I head to my favorite store, CVS, to get some new products. Not wanting to duplicate the make-up I already have at home, I decide on a very practical concealer.

And I go RED with my LIPS.

I go red for me and my long week, I go red for mothers, and women. I go red (or maybe dark pink, but it's a clashing thing with the hair) with my LIPS for the first time ever. It made me happy.

And I'm sure it will also look GREAT on Xave.

Kace, Quce, Jace, and Twouce

DO YOU HAVE A QUCE?

Putting my competitive side aside, I've entered into card games with Dec the past two nights.

Our favorites are W.A.R., Go Fish!, and Dirty Old Joker (Dame's version of Old Maid).

Playing cards with a four year old is an exercise in patience:

• He can't quite hold the cards in his hands, so we often have to set up the largest book we can find as a shield, so that he can spread his cards out on the carpet behind it.
• Then we realize the book is a major obstacle for him, especially when he has to reach the Go Fish! pile.
• If he does chose to fan the cards in his hands, he often drops 90% of them when trying to discard one.
• He has to ask repeatedly if the six is "down or up". And to be extra thorough, he asks the same thing every time he sees a nine.

But the real reason I play cards with Dec is not to exercise my patience. Trust me, I do that enough. Rather, it is to hear him talk.

"Mom, do you have a Quce?" (pronounced "cuse" as in Syracuse)

I look at my cards and, realize (panic really) that I don't know what a Quce is. After seeing a two, a queen, and an ace in my hand, I hear myself saying, "Yes". Certain that one of those cards must be a Quce and somewhat relieved that I could answer him, I look up and see his glad eyes staring at me. With his hand out.

Uh Oh. Now I have to hand him one.

I picked the Queen. And I was right!

After one round of Go Fish! it is clear that Dec has names for most of the cards. He makes as many cards as possible rhyme with the word "ACE", the grandaddy of cards in most of the games we play. He's brilliant actually. It's as if he knows that all the other cards really want to be as powerful as the ace. You say King, I say Kace.

Hey, do you have a Jace?

Again and again and, well, again

It is groundhog day.
Guess what? I really DID NOT like that movie with Bill Murray. It annoyed me a lot. But I do like the idea of Groundhog Day even though I always want to call him Punxsutawney Pete instead of Phil. I think it has a better ring to it. Punxsatawney is not spelled at all like I thought it was.
Anyway, I am not surprised that there are six more weeks of winter because winter is a cold gray blanket that likes to stay on the bed for a while.
I am the bed, in this case.

A year ago I walked down the street.Winter was not cold.
Or gray.
Winter was green.
I wore skirts.

I stepped over this on the sidewalk.
A bit more elegant than "SEWER" wouldn't you say?

Cars greeted me on St. Charles Ave.
Well BEEP BEEP to you, sir.

I am having this feeling these days. When I rise and when I lay my head down.

It is still winter.
It will be winter tomorrow.

I will be cold.
*This time last year I was not cold*
although Annie, Tese and Maddy might disagree about the heat's ability to work in my pad

I still miss New Orleans.
I still wonder if I ever should have left.
I wonder if I ever should have gone in the first place.

I know that Spring will come.
The nagging feelings of gray and wanderlust will subside.
Green will return.
The "what if's" and the "but when's" will fade away.

And I will welcome them all.

Just like every groundhog year.