marmite breath slept here

I'm having one of those weeks where I want to just get into bed with a tub of ice cream, a carton of smokes, and some wine, and not come out for a week.  I no longer smoke and the bottle of wine would make me cry and laugh simultaneously, but the ice cream, God, the ice cream.  I love it.  It's comfort in a container.   You can't get that sort of comfort from healthy stuff.  I'm quite sure nobody ever said, "I'm having the worst week ever.  I could murder an apple." 

My husband, (he who understands nothing about this side of me) thinks that I rely on food for comfort too much.  I'm not quite sure where he got this idea, since I could count on one (very large and multi fingered) hand the amount of times he has found me sobbing and eating something fattening.  Mad?  Run to Target and buy up their supply of Cadbury's.  Upset?  Wal Mart has some fantastic peanut butter cups.  Frustrated?  Sonic makes an M&M blast that could make anything better.  Mum tells you she's got a tumour? Claim you need milk and bread and go to the grocery store.  Come home with cookies, ice cream, ice cream sandwiches, bananas, and cool whip.  Oh, and cream cheese and bagels.  It's not that I think food will make my problems disappear, (although I did read something yesterday in a reliable paper, oh, fine, it was The Sun) that claims that Marmite can help with PMS.  True story!!  Look it up!!.  Anyway, I really don't think that food is going to fix everything, but I do see food as a big pair of arms that are open wide and beckoning.  Also, those arms pat me on the back.  Am I insane?  Yes.  Those arms were never more welcoming and warm than this morning when I ate my Weetabix with warm milk and real sugar (as opposed to Splenda, which, I know is better for me to eat if I MUST have it in my coffee, but really isn't even an option sometimes).

Yesterday, I had a little cry in the van. The husband said, "Baby, what would make you feel better?" and for the love of God, all I could think of was, "Liver and Onions".  Not just any liver and onions, but that dinner prepared by my Mum, and with mashed potatoes and proper gravy.  I was salivating AND crying.  We settled for Fazoli's, where I attempted to find comfort in a salad.  Absolute failure. 

Lest you think that I am an eating disorder waiting to happen, I have to say that I find comfort in other things--books(I read Maeve Binchy or Sue Townsend when I want to just escape), music (my music to get lost in this past few weeks has been KT Tunstall), movies (Box of Delights and Lonesome Dove--celluloid hot chocolate).   I started watching Box of Delights with the kids tonight, and it makes me feel like a kid again.  There's comfort in that, to go back to a time when my biggest worry was wondering if my yellow pleather skirt looked good with my new yellow and black striped shirt.  (By the way, the answer is probably not a surprise--the answer is a resounding no).  Our faithful friend Dave Weeks (he of the Nutella and Dangermouse DVDs) sent us the movie and made a bad night better.  

Nothing can make this worry go away, not food, not Maeve Binchy books, not childhood tv mini-series, not listening to a favourite CD.  It's still here.  But hopefully, in the next few weeks, it will all be over, and Mum will be back to her old self again.  And we'll all live happily ever after.  The End.

I was actually thinking it would be horrible of me to blog about our trip under the circumstances, but then I realized that as soon as I start using terms like "under the circumstances" to describe what's happening with my Mum, well, then I'm on that slippery slope of letting it freak me out, and remember, I'm not doing that yet.

So, without further ado.  Our trip to New York.  Let's start with the flight.  It was non stop (thank God, no connecting flight to delay us).  Jonivan picked us up at the Newark airport and took us straight to their house where Donavan was waiting eagerly to see us.  Poor Tom was so desperate to pee that he almost tied his willy in a knot, but he still had time to exclaim, "Donavan, I'm here!" and throw his arms around him before he went to the toilet.  Hadleigh made herself right at home and started talking to Donavan about the trip.  We also had the loveliest card ever, made by the D-man himself.  It was a Welcome to our House card and it was so sweet!

They grilled burgers for us and I had a salad with REAL ENGLISH SALAD CREAM!!  Of all the things I buy from the International shop (at four times the price I could get it at Tesco's) I never buy salad cream, because I'm the only one who would eat it, and it defeats the purpose of salad because it's full of fat.  Anyway, I can't believe I'm blogging about food.  Shut up, Nat!

Carly asked if she could take me into the city for my birthday.  Never one to shy away from someone paying attention to me and buying me wine, I agreed.  Then I remembered that I'm a wimp and being in the city at night scares me.  Carly laughed at me and told me to get ready.  So, we put the kids to bed, told Aaron and Jonivan to make sure they didn't set themselves on fire or anything, and left.  We got on the ferry (which was free, and as every guidebook mentioned, is the best deal in New York) and headed across the harbour to Manhattan.  Jesus.  That view is fantastic!  It was lit up like you wouldn't believe, and the Statue of Liberty (or Lizard-ty, as we call it in our house) was incredible.  I'm not an American, but I did want to cry a little bit at how it made me feel.  I thought about how many immigrants had gone through weeks of sea travel to arrive in this harbour, and how they must have felt excitement mixed with fear.  This was their first sight of America.  Anyway, I quickly snapped out of it, and started freaking out as the city drew closer.  I couldn't believe it.  I've been in big cities before, I consider myself well-traveled and cultured, but as the mass of skyscrapers got closer and closer, I felt like a country bumpkin.  I just kept whispering, "Just look at all those buildings."  I was in awe. 

We got off the ferry, bought some metro cards so we could get the bus home later that night (after we rode the ferry back to Staten Island) and we started walking.  I immediately broke the first rule I had made for myself (don't act like a tourist) and began looking up and around, and exclaiming loudly and obnoxiously, "I can't BELIEVE I'm in New York!!" 

The plan was to go to Lederhosen, a restaurant owned by some family friends.  See how cool I am?  I not only have a sister who lives in NYC, but I "know people" there.  Oh my God, I am awesome!!  Ha ha

We walked down through the financial district, me looking around, Carly telling me what I was looking at.  We saw the Stock Exchange and Wall Street, and then we went to the World Trade Center, Ground Zero.  Jesus.  I felt something there.  It was such a strange feeling, to look up and know that there used to be two huge skyscrapers there, and that so many people died in this place.  They've got fence around it, and posters describing what happened that day, but it doesn't come close to describing what it did to our ideas about freedom, religion, and security.  We walked a little further, and then we hailed a cab which was driven by a very nice man who was apparently speaking tangerine.  Or something.  I have no idea what he was saying.  He sure wasn't a New Yorker.  We got to Lederhosen in Greenwich Village, and it was closed!!  What??  I suggested banging the door down, but Carly said no.  Not to be deterred, we walked the streets of Greenwich Village asking ourchother (Tom's favourite word) what we wanted to do.  I called Mum and I think she thought I was already drunk, because I had slipped into New Yawk Tawk.  I couldn't help it.  I was making myself laugh.  Anyway, we hailed the next cab (driven by the most New Yawk sounding guy I've ever heard, it was all I could do not to giggle and say, "Oooh, I LOOOOVE the way you talk....say something....say my name!") and went to a place called Fiddlesticks Pub, where we sat outside on the patio and drank a bottle of wine while we pulled leprechaun faces at eachother and talked about life. 

After the wine was gone, we had to make our next move.  Where to?  She decided to take me to Biddy Early's Pub.  We drank more (shock! horror!) and ate Fish and Chips.  I decided right then and there that I could not be on Weight Watchers that week.  Or Alcoholics Anonymous.  Not that I'm in A.A, but I'd be screwed if I was, being around Carly.

Oh, forgot to mention, I was wearing some knee high boots with heels on, given to me by Carly.  Oh my GOD!  By the end of the night, after the walking and the drinking and the fact that it was three in the morning, my feet were killing me.  We got the bus to just outside the base, and then Carly made me walk 18 miles back to her place.  Well, it felt like it.  I ended up walking in just my socks.

Next morning, Donavan went to school and Carly took us into the city.  The kids liked the views from the ferry and they were excited to see what it was going to be like in Manhattan.  We got the subway to Columbus Circle and Central Park.  Carly wanted to take the kids to ride on the carousel there.  They loved it!  I even rode on it too!  We walked through Central Park and the kids and Aaron climbed on the huge rocks there.  It was such a pretty day.  We decided to walk down to Times Square so that we could see it and so that Carly could get some new sunglasses.  We walked into this MASS of people, it was crazy.  I was terrified that Hadleigh would get away from me.  I didn't worry about Tom, because Aaron was carrying him on a backpack.  There was so much to see.....Carnegie Hall, the Chrysler Building, oooh, and yes, the kids saw a Toys R Us with a ferris wheel inside.  Uh huh, I actually rode it with them.  They thought that New York was awesome at this point!  Carousels and Ferris Wheels!!  Whoooooeeeee!! 

We saw the city for a while longer, and then got the subway back to the ferry station and headed home.  I think we napped when we got home.  Well, I did.  I don't care what anybody else did. 

Next day, Carly stayed at home while The Intrepid Martins ventured out.  We really just walked our legs off, as Hadleigh said.  We got off the ferry and got a cab to the Empire State Building.  When we were outside, it hit me.  I really AM in New York.  This is freaking AWESOME!!  We went in, stood in line for the elevators a bit, and just listened to everyone around us.  That's when I realized......everyone in this building except my husband and children is British!  I have never heard so many English voices in my life.  People from Liverpool, Birmingham, Leeds, Down South......it was very strange.  We went to the 86th floor observatory and just stood there, slack-jawed.  This was worth the plane ticket money.  My kids were happy.  We had fantastic views.  We were together.  It doesn't get much better than that, you guys.  It was cold though, really windy, so we went back downstairs and made our next move.  Hadleigh wanted to go to the American Girl store on Fifth Avenue.  First order of business though.....getting me a hot dog.  I have real issues with cleanliness, so the thought of eating something that was prepared on the street was not appealing, but the smell, oh God, the smell of those onions frying was too much to resist.  We all got a hot dog, got directions from the hot dog man on where to find the American Girl store, and headed happily down Fifth Avenue, pointing out various sights along the way.  Now, believe me, I didn't WANT to go in to this store, but Hadleigh had been looking forward it it so much.  She'd even bought Kit (her American Girl doll) along with her so that Kit could get a new outfit (at that point, Kit had on a mini-dress and a white fur coat.  She looked like Jodie Foster in Taxi Driver).  Aaron and Tom went to an electronics store and arranged to meet us in 30 minutes in the store.  Well, it was clear when we got in there that 30 minutes was not going to cut it.  Hadleigh was in heaven!  Eventually though, she had narrowed down her choices to just 57 outfits.  Fast forward eight days, okay, fine, 20 minutes, she chose an outfit and we were out of there!  We popped into a deli to have a bit of a rest and a snack, and that was nice.  Then we got out the guide book and walked again.  We saw Rockefeller Center, Ed Sullivan Theater (where Dave Letterman is filmed), St Patrick's Cathedral, Radio City Music Hall, NBC studios where they do the Today show and SNL........all of which the kids found very boring, but as I explained to them, I didn't exactly love the ferris wheel either, but I took them anyway! 

At one point (every minute) Hadleigh whined about the walking, so we decided to take them somewhere fun.  We walked down Central Park south, down to the Plaza Hotel.  The Plaza is where Hadleigh's heroine, Eloise lived.  Eloise is a fictional character, but we have loved her for years, and The Plaza is shutting down and becoming exclusive apartments, so we had to at least go by there and see where Eloise lived her life, however fake her life was.  Right past the Plaza is F.A.O Schwartz, the toy shop in the movie, Big.  We took the kids in there, and we immediately became cool in Had's eyes again.  Tom was sleeping in the backpack, and I'll never forget his face when we woke him up and said, "Look around you Tom-we're in a toy shop!".  We played the big light-up piano (just like Tom Hanks did!) and checked out all the cool toys.  The store was closed for a while and reopened under new ownership, and apparently it's not the same at all.  The kids were none the wiser, but I wasn't very impressed with it, to be honest.

Finally, we'd had enough for the day.  We trekked home where Carly had made us a roast chicken, potatoes, green beans and stuffing.  God, it was good!!

Next day, Aaron and I went out alone because Carly is a saint and she wanted to take the kids to the Staten Island Children's Museum.  So, off we went.  Aaron claimed to not care what he saw (I'm just happy to be with you, he said.  Aww!!).  I, on the other hand, had big plans.  I wanted to go to the Dakota where John Lennon lived and died.  And, I wanted to see Strawberry Fields.  Even though the kids like The Beatles, I knew they would not care that they were missing this.   Before that though, we wanted to see Chinatown and Little Italy.  We got the subway there, and walked the streets of Little Italy, remembering how it was to be in REAL Italy.  We ate lunch at one of the restaurants (I had pasta primavera, Aaron had some cheesy baked pasta) and then walked and sort of got lost.  Not really bad lost, but just lost.  Then Mr Smarty Pants "I can read a map" figured out where we were, and we took the subway to the Dakota.  It was so freaking creepy.  I can see why they chose to film Rosemary's Baby there.  Ugh.  Very dark and very sad.  I thought about John and how he died right there at the hands of a mental case.  I knew if I cried, Aaron would never let me forget it, so we walked across the street to Strawberry Fields, the area of Central Park dedicated to John.  The city of Naples sent a mosaic that says, "Imagine", and if you can get past the freaky people laying flowers on it in some sort of tribute, it's beautiful.  The place is full of peace.  Even the wildlife there is gorgeous....the birds were almost tame. 

We walked down Central Park West back to Broadway so we could go to the Hello Deli (around the corner from the Letterman studios).  I actually bought a diet coke from Rupert there.  i wish I had been brave enough to ask him for a picture.

I decided I had walked enough to merit a large peanut butter brownie and a mocha (approximately one billion fat grams) and then we went looking at electronics stores.  Yes, feel the excitement.  Aaron wanted to look at laptops.  Bless him, he was in Heaven with all the electronics stores.

Finally, we went home and from what I can remember, Carly and I shared three bottles of wine while Aaron went out to play pool with Jonivan.  Or something.  Hell if I know.

Next day, I just wanted to run quickly into the city to get a name poster made for each of the kids.  I also wanted to get a close up look at the Brooklyn Bridge.  The kids wanted to stay home, so Carly told us to just go alone.  Wow.  So, we did.  We went to Battery Park and found a lovely chinese man to paint the posters for us, and then we got the subway up to the Brooklyn Bridge.  When we got off the subway, I stopped some random guy and asked him, "Where's the best place to view the bridge?".  He thought for a minute and said, "Well, you could go to the Federal Courthouse and go up to the 26th floor.  You'd get great views from there.  So that's exactly what we did.  I couldn't take any pictures, because (a) we were inside and (b) they confiscate your camera in the federal building and make you submit to security, but it was a cool experience.  Plus, they had clean toilets.  Aaaah.

We had to eat, so we stopped somewhere and I got the most awesome wrap I have ever had.  It was avocado, walnuts and tomatoes.  Holy Moley!  Damn good.  We called Carly and told her we were coming home, but she told us not to bother and to go and find something else to do, so we decided to go to the Museum of Modern Art as it's free on Fridays.  Well, as we discovered when we got there, it's free after 4pm on fridays, and we didn't want to wait an hour in line to get in for free, so we checked out the parade for a bit (we had already decided beforehand that 2 million people at a parade sounded like a nightmare for the kids, and they said they didn't want to see it, they'd rather stay home and play with Donavan) and then we went back to Carly's. 

Next day, we just packed, Carly did my hair and make-up (I LOOOVE being with my sisters) and then we went for New York pizza.  I am picky and retarded and I don't like cheese, so I picked at the food and worried about Donavan, who was acting strangely (quietly).  We then went to the airport, where Donavan made me so sad by saying, "I don't want you to go".  I tried to explain, "Dude, you can call me anytime you miss me, I'll always be there whenever you need me, I love you."  He looked at me with those sad eyes and said, "Calling you will just make me even sadder.  It will remind me that you're far away".

God, I hate living far away from family.  Hate it.  Story of my freaking life, and once again, just in case you didn't catch it, I hate it. 

Want to know what I don't hate?  New York City.  Know what else I don't hate?  My sister and her family who just completely took care of us and let us have the best time there. 

There really is no place like New York.  The people were so friendly and kind, the food was great, the sights were amazing.  Wow.  That's all.  I didn't mean to write this much.

Tumours are really starting to piss me off. 

 When Grandma told me that Grandad Tom had a tumour instead of a stroke, I asked if she was joking.  I didn't really think she was actually joking, I just couldn't imagine why the hell the coolest man alive would be struck with a brain tumour.  It didn't make sense.  So, this week, when Mum called to tell me that she has a tumour too, well, I didn't ask her if she was joking.  I just dropped the paint roller that was in my hand and went to sit on the stairs.  I listened as she said words like "ocular tumour" and "malignant" and "surgery".  Words like "radiation" permeated the fog that had become my brain.  I cried, but more out of shock than anything else.  I haven't even been able to fathom what this could mean, and I don't intend to even entertain the thought of anything bad happening.  I am still trying to imagine what this thing behind her eye must look like.  Ugh.  I hate it.  Anyway,  she'll go to the hospital, have surgery to put in this radiation chip, she'll stay there for ten days and then go home.  If all goes well with our planning, she'll have her daughters there to cook (me) cheer everybody up (Carly) and boss the whole thing (Rhon).  Also, we'll be holding a rousing game of "Don't cry in front of Mum" which, if past experience is anything to go on, I'll win at.  When it comes to muffled sobs into a sleeve, I ROCK!  Also, the game of "Try to be supportive and brave in front of Dad while you actually just want to curl up on his lap and cry like a four year old" is on the cards.  Place your bets now! 

So now, I'm here, a ten-hour-drive away, wishing I could just go home, but knowing that even if I go right now, there's nothing I can do that will make this thing disappear.  I can support, I can help, but I can't do magic.  Fortunately, Mum is the most positive person on the planet about all this.  Her initial words to me were, "I don't want you to worry, and I'm going to be fine, but.........."   I mean, for God's sake, I'd be all, "Alert, Alert, Everybody!  I have a tumour!  Bring me a pound of your finest chocolate and a pen so I can dictate my last wishes!" but nooooo, she has to be all brave and positive.  Well, really, what else can you do? 

I've told the kids that Grandma has a poorly eye and will be wearing an eye patch like a deranged pirate.  See, I'm evil.  Even when she has a tumour, I'm still finding joy in hassling her.  Rhonda says that if anyone heard us joking about this, they'd think we were heartless.  Oh, no way!  She has given us permission to be normal and go on with our lives.  She doesn't want us to sit around and worry and cry.  Jesus.  Worry when I have to.  That's my grand plan to get through this.  Doesn't seem very grand, but I'm fresh out of trying to think of solutions to make horrible lumps of cancer disappear.  The last time I tried (Dear God, if you make Grandad's tumour go away, I will never, ever, ever, be bitchy again) it didn't work.  So, for now, there's my plan.  Worry when I have to.

Oh, and a final word about tumours.  If any of you happen to get one, please keep the news to yourself.  I can't handle it right now.  There's a sign on our kitchen door that Hadleigh made when she was four or five.  In Naples, we kept it proudly on the front door.  It reads, "No Bugs Alouwd.  Sorie Bugs"  I'm going to make one that says, "No Toomers alouwd.  Piss off Toomers". 

Hopefully, it will keep them away.

I was going to title this entry, "Things to NOT do when you are approaching 30 and suffering severe PMS" but it would take too long to list those things. 

However, in the interest of helping just one person, I'll just say that the number one thing on that list would be "Don't buy a magnifying mirror thinking that it will help you when you pluck your eyebrows because it will only illuminate the fact that you have horrible pores and it will make you obsess about your eyebrows and skin for two hours in the mirror while you weep quietly so that your kids don't hear you and you will end up looking like you have been in a fire or tweezer fight because you will have tweezed your eyebrows to bits."

Other than the whole mirror debacle, the week has come and gone, and so has my birthday.  Y'all, I'm 30.  *pause for effect*  Yes, you heard me.  I'm 30.  I'm 30, for God's sake, and premenstrual.  Not a good combination, but one that I've been handed, nonetheless.  That's probably why at ten minutes till midnight, I had a good cry into my pillow.  I was imagining my twenties disappearing rapidly and I couldn't stop them.  I know, I'm a drama queen, but it's the truth.  I thought about all the things I did when I was a twenty-something.  I thought about all the things I DIDN'T do.  I'll tell you one thing, I'm going to stop caring so damn much what other people think about me.  It almost crippled me many times, and I won't let it happen again.  I also made a promise to myself that I will never again let anybody make me feel powerless.  I started out my twenties with an event that will be with me forever, and I won't go into it here, but as I've been all "soul searchy" lately, I have become more and more sure.......I will NEVER let anybody make me feel that weak again.  I have a daughter, I owe it to her to make sure that she is never in a position where she feels like she has to give up a part of her soul in order to not rock the boat.  I'm going to be a thirty-something that I can be proud of.  And here ends the drama portion of our program, Ladies and Gentlemen.  But I'm serious though.  Don't mess with me.

Oh, here's a picture of me yesterday.  I had it taken for posterity.  Tomorrow I'm sure I'll feel fully thirty and will probably start wearing polyester and start saying things like, "Get that new fangled camera away from me, I'm putting my teeth in."

Now, all that remains for me to blog about is the fact that WE ARE LEAVING TOMORROW!!  We are all cleaning madly, putting fresh sheets on the beds so we can come home to bliss, and packing light.  Yes, you heard me.  Packing light.  I swear, this time I am going to remember that they have washing machines where I'm going, and that I don't have to pack a formal evening gown.  Not that I have one.  But if I did, my dumb ass would pack it.  Not this time, amigos!

Now then, I'm hopped up on Pocket Coffee and ready to go and argue with the kids about what constitutes, "A few things to do on the plane." 

I may or may not blog while I'm there.  I might just wait till I get home and then sit happily recounting the whole trip.  Wish us luck.  Have a great week, everybody!

I am overwhelmed and speechless.  Well, not speechless, cause that would mean I was probably  in a coma or something.  Today we received a package from Elena in Naples.   You would not believe the size of this package!  (said the bishop to the actress)

 Tom and I spent a good few minutes opening it feverishly.  When we got the box open, Tom looked crestfallen.  "She sent us newspaper?"  No, darling Tomassino, the newspaper is merely protecting THIS!!!

What a fantastic surprise!!  First of all, I JUST ran out of espresso last week, and I was about to panic.  I bought so much Caffe Kimbo to America, I didn't think I would ever run out, but I did.  Now I can relax again.  Secondly, have you seen those cute espresso cups??  And they are surrounded by Pocket Coffee (OMG, I LOVE IT!!) and a whole package of them!   Tom was all excited about the Kinder eggs  (and Hadleigh is going to be thrilled beyond belief--she used to love eating them in Naples). I'll have to hide them so they don't eat every single one of them today!  :)

 Ooooooh, and the lovely Italian snack cakes.........I can't even believe how much stuff she sent!  I think I will take all this stuff, grab the human-head sized jar of Nutella from Dave (Hi Dave!) and go and have a "Viva Italia" party in the living room.  I will emerge, high from the espresso in the pocket coffee and euphoric from the chocolate, and damn, I'll be a supremely happy woman. 

Edited to Add:

Aaaah, bliss.  The Duplo bars have chocolate spread in them.  God, it's like food porn around here. 

Does anybody know how I can force myself to exercise?  I just can't be bothered.  The past two mornings I have overslept and only had 30 minutes to grumble at Hadleigh before she goes to school.  If exercise hasn't happened by then, it's pretty much guaranteed that it ain't gonna happen.  I have to be alone and not having to keep an ear out for any kids that might be putting forks into plug sockets or other such adventures.  Early morning exercise is great for listening to bad music on the mp3 player and pretending that you are dedicated. 

I need to be accountable, so I'll be an idiot and post my goal right here.  I want to exercise THREE times this week.  You lot stay on me and check up to see that I've been a good girl.  I don't know why I'm finding this all so difficult this time.  After Tom was born, I did so well.  I ate all the right things and dropped the weight so quickly, thanks to Weight Watchers.  I did get too thin, I think, but moving back to the land of fast food soon put a stop to that problem. I had a good grasp on my eating habits and planned every meal and snack--then it just all went pear shaped.  Well, my body did.  Actually, to be fair, I'm more of a turnip shape now.

 Last year was rough for me.....I'm not making excuses, but I AM a comfort eater, and when I'm lonely or sad, then I can't help but bake a cake or bread and then eat the lot.  It's therapy.  When Aaron was gone for that few months, and then Grandad Tom getting sick and then dying so suddenly......it just did a number on me physically.  I gained 12lbs in 2005!  I'm back on track food-wise, I think.  I'm doing WW again and feeling good about it, feeling more in control than I have in a long time.  I hate to harp on it, but I have not binged on Girl Scout Cookies and have not even bought a single Cadbury's Cream Egg or bag of Cadbury's Mini Eggs, or even, God love me, those new Cadbury's Bunnys that I saw in Target tonight.  This is CRAZY!  They have been my downfall for 16 years!  When we moved to the States and we figured out that we could only get them at Easter, it's like a switch got flipped in my body and I was forced to eat 20 of them because I wouldn't get any more for a WHOLE YEAR!  As I got older, I used the (terrible and not even remotely believable) rationale that if I bought a whole load of them and froze them, then I could enjoy them all year round, just as any normal person does.  Oh the lies we tell ourselves.  (See: My nose isn't that big, lie #475)

This blog is turning into such shite.  I have lots of great things to write down, but I don't have uninterrupted time to write, and I hate start-stop writing.   I have some things I want to blog about, so if I find time this week, what with TURNING THIRTY and all (not at all a hint!) then I'll do that.

PS)  Very cool news on the Sexy Carpenter front, and I can't believe this is in the PS part, because it IS important, but he made board for Chief!  For those who don't know, it means that he did well enough on the Chief exam to be put through to the boards--where his records will be reviewed and the board will decide if he will be a Chief or not.  Now then, we don't necessarily care if he makes it or not, because he's on this officer program, but it would be a great feather in his cap if he could make Chief while he is at this command.   WAY TO GO, SEXY CARPENTER!

Quote of the Week:

Me: (flicking channels) "Aww, look Tom, Teletubbies!"

Tom: (with same tone of voice one would use when describing the mating habits of African dung beetles)   "Oh, gweat"

Me: "What do you mean, oh great, don't you like the Teletubbies?"

Tom: "Uh, no, not weally"

Me:  "So why did you say, 'Oh great'?"

Tom: "It's the sort of 'Oh gweat' that weally means, 'Oh howwible'"

Me: (choking on tea) "Dude, did you just correctly use sarcasm?"

Sound of Handel's Messiah playing in background as Nat successfully hands over the reins of smartassness to her children.

 So, our trip to New York is fast approaching!  The kids are excited about seeing the Empire State Building and I'm excited about the whole experience!  I can't wait to see Carly, Jonivan and Donavan, and I can't wait to absorb the atmosphere of NYC, unless it smells like piss, or homeless people.  I know, I'm mean.  We'll even be there for the St Patrick's Day Parade, which, you must admit, is completely off-the-charts cool, right?  Now if I can just get over my completely terrible keeping-me-up-at-night worry that one of the kids will let go of our hands in that big crowd and never be seen again.  I know, I know, there's not much chance of it happening, but it's still making me nervous.  I said nervous, not excited!

Other than the trip, the other exciting news, as you all know, is my impending step into my next decade.  I won't pretend that it's not a big deal for me......it really is.  It's pretty much consuming me right now.  I'm feeling very philosophical about the whole thing.  I'll blog more about that later, after it happens.  For now, my days are spent thinking of everything I've done to lead me up to this point.  I think it's healthy to reflect on your life at a time like this, isn't it?  Unless said reflection involves copious amounts of crying and vodka, which, ahem, mine don't.  Much.  Check this space on the 11th to hear from ONE OLD HOOCHIE!!

 We've managed to get through Girl Scout Cookie season.  Hadleigh did pretty well at it and I'm mailing the last of the boxes tomorrow.  Girl Scouts is going well, although it can be trying.  I wish the troop was smaller--I'd feel like we could learn more, but next year will be different, and I'm determined to make the most of this year while we have it.  Also? Girl Scout leaders should definitely be allowed to drink on the job.

Tom's no longer in preschool, as we weren't happy with the set-up.  It was only two mornings a week, for 2 and a half hours, but still, I really liked the time to myself, and now I'm afraid I might go mental.  Poor Tom, he liked it there too, but we just had too many reservations about it.  Nothing bad, but just not a good use of our money.  Still, I'll keep him busy.  You know, living in this sprawling metropolis, there's bound to be TONS to do.  Does sarcasm translate well on a blog?

Now it's time for me to go and put the kettle on and make a nice cup of decaf Earl Grey.  It's Wednesday night, and, I must say, my favourite night of the week.  Aaron and I record "Lost" and then I drink tea and eat popcorn while we curl up on the couch with the best blanket ever--named The Cowboys.  It was made for Aaron when he was a little boy, by his Granny Verona.  It's insanely comfy--not too heavy, just warm enough, just perfect.  I love to torment Father-of-Sexy-Carpenter when he comes to visit, because he understands the perfect yin-yang-ness of the blanket.  Anyway, that's where I'm headed--to watch Lost with Aaron, Spot, and The Cowboys. 

PS) I have not eaten a SINGLE Cadbury's egg since they've been on the shelves.  This is monumental.  I am in awe of how controlled I am.

PPS) Check back next week when I am ragingly hormonal and craving chocolate.