Happiness is.........

The week of my 41st Birthday has not been stellar to say the least.  Work was especially stressful, I can never seem to catch up on my sleep, and my birthday fell on a Wednesday.  Blah!!

On Wednesday, September 15th I rushed home from my day job to change my outfit and freshen up.  I had about 10 minutes to get myself together and head to my once-a-week job at Lizzie's cheer/dance gym.

As I rushed into my bedroom to change my clothing, I was met with this unexpected deliciousness:

I love my Lizzie. Her smile and her little art project made my birthday. Heck, who am I kidding?  It made my September!!

She even gave me smiley faces on the television:

I love you too Peanut!!

seasons of life

It's that time of year again.  The seasons are changing, and just like that it is football season again.  Football season has been a part of our life since 2001.  First Stevie played for grade school, then for high school, and now Lizzie is cheering for high school.  She is already in her 3rd year and this year is a Varsity Cheerleader.  

Here they go for their tumble pass when the players take the field:

The girls are in love with new RED, sparkly spankies this year!

tonsilletomy

 My poor little Lizzie has been through the wringer the past couple of years with non-stop tonsillitis, strep throat, and 2 bouts with mono.  She was so over it!!  Finally her pediatrician agreed that maybe it's time for the tonsils to come out.

Two Mondays ago we headed to the hospital bright and early in the morning to have the ole' tonsillectomy.  To say she was nervous is an understatement.  I didn't think we'd get her out of the car.  She was plagued with fear of the unknown, fear of being put to sleep, & fear of the DREADED I.V.  don-don-don.

Getting the I.V. inserted made her so nervous she got light-headed and broke out in a hot sweat.  We used cold compresses to try to calm her down.

All of the trauma, drama, and fear went right out the window within 7.5 seconds of her receiving "something to calm her down",  or as the nurse liked to call it: Giggle Juice.

Wow!!!  Did she ever giggle. 

Once that "giggle juice" took affect, it was all good baby.  As they rolled her down the hall to the operating room we saw her little arm raise in the air holding two fingers up, and her only words were "peace out".

After the surgery, she was just as cute.  In this next video she recalls her operating room experience.

The upside? Her recovery was not as bad as anticipated and she won't get that pesky strep throat any longer.  

The downside?  Day 7 we were in the ER for some throat bleeding.  Day 9 we were back in the ER for more throat bleeding and rushed into emergency surgery to stop the bleeding and blood clotting.  

When she does it, she does it right:  Mono two years in a row and 2 surgeries in a 9 day period.

Nope.  She's not a drama queen at all.

birthdays, family, & gaga

I opened my reader and I had 732 posts awaiting me.  That, and the fact that I haven't posted since March, is a clear indication that life has gotten busy for me.  Since starting the full-time job in February it has taken me this long to adjust - almost 6 months.  

Since that time lots has been going on:

My baby boy, Stevie, turned 21.  I won't even get into the melancholy that that event threw me into.  Oh, the time.  It sure does fly.

My sister Rachael gave birth to her first, Leom Thomas on June 8th.  He is perfection.

My Lizzie has turned 16. Acccckkkk!  She is completely obsessed with cars and thinks her dad should get her a TrailBlazer.  She'll even settle for the earlier Blazer (if she must).  Yeah right!!  Check out the bracelet and little blue box from her grandma!

I sent her off on plane with her best friend to Pensacola.  Just the two of them.  Changing planes.  In. Atlanta.  I felt like a bad mom until I heard that her girlfriend Gabby flew alone to Spain this month to visit her father.  Whew!  Flordia doesn't seem so bad now.

She also marched in the July 4th parade with her cheer team.

My mother became an official member of her beloved Church that she has been attending for years.  She was surrounded by her husband, children, grandchildren, and friends.  It was definitely a special day for her!

Last week my husband's brother and his family came in from Philly and spent the week at our house.  It was so great to spend time with our nephews. They come in every July to visit and endure enjoy the big annual family reunion of Steve's side of the family.

My son and godson - Stevie and Kyle.

Last, but most definitely not least, I have won the award for BEST AND MOST COOLEST MOM OF THE YEAR.  For my daughter's 16th Birthday I bought her a ticket to Lady Gaga.  Not just any ticket, but a ticket and pass into the "Little Monster Zone".  (If you have to ask, you wouldn't understand).   

She was in heaven and made a memory that will last a lifetime.  (Now let's see how long "best mom ever" will last. lol)

 DID I MENTION THAT SHE HAD FRONT ROW SEATS???

Have a great Sunday!!

A trip to Anthropologie to cure the rainy day blues.

It’s been an unseasonably warm weekend here in Ohio with nothing but gray skies and rainy days.  Which is exactly why Steve and I did NOTHING yesterday and spent the entire day on the couch doiking (my mom’s word) in front of the television.
On Friday Lizzie and I decided a trip to the mall would be just the pick-me-up we needed.  It wasn’t just the local mall that we visited, but the one an hour from here.  Lizzie can usually talk me into it because she loves the designer stores and I love the fact that I get to visit Pottery Barn AND Anthropologie.
I will share a few Anthropologie pics with you, then I’m off to work on my taxes.  Yippy skippy!

 
The fake, sarcastic smile of a fifteen year old that hates when her mother takes her photo (especially in public).    It is always fun to see what new and innovative artwork that Anthropologie has in their window display.

Other than bicycle rims, can you tell what this hanging sculpture is made of?
Yep. Plastic soda bottles.


I snapped this last photo in Pottery Barn.  I love the cheese grater place card holder, and we both loved that they used Lizzie’s name in the display.  How fun!
Well, those pesky taxes aren’t going to figure themselves, so that is what I will be doing with the remainder of my rainy Sunday.
Before I click off, I just want to say a Thank You to my faithful readers for your words of encouragement.  It was comforting to hear from others that have ventured off into the working world after years at home, and I truly appreciate your kind words.
Peace out Girl Scout.

Fly Girl.

I read a hilarious post yesterday about airplane travel (I’ll get to that soon), and it made me wonder if there is any such thing as a mundane flight?  I suppose there is, if you travel all the time.  For someone like myself that can count how many airplane trips I have taken in my life on two hands, it seems there is always some little hiccup.

Continental Airlines: Cleveland, OH to Orlando, FL – December, 1995:

To save on airfare we decided to fly out of the nearby Akron/Canton airport.  We were forced to board a little puddle jumper to take us to O’Hare in Chicago where we would catch our flight to Orlando.  Akron/Canton being the little airport that it is generally has lower fares, but it also forced us to board tiny a plane directly from the tarmac.  This was the last week of December and it was freezing cold.  We trudged out onto the windy tarmac with the other passengers and boarded the dark plane.  Dark? Yes, and cold too.  Seems there was a little problem with a “back up generator”, so instead of starting the plane ahead of time and oh, warming it up a bit, they decided to turn on the plane right before takeoff. 

There we were in Rows 11 and 12 awaiting the takeoff and the lights, and the heat, along with the rest of the passengers.  First the engines started up.  OK, that’s a good sign.  Then the lights kicked on.  Ahhh, now I can get a better look at this tiny plane I was about to fly in.  Lastly, the heaters kicked on.   Now we’re talking, finally some heat.  Only problem?  As we begin taxiing down the runway smoke began blowing out of the heater vents. Everyone looked around in a panic,  the Flight Attendant came flying down the aisle towards the cockpit, and some guy in 4A started shouting “We have smoke!” over and over again.  ‘WE HAVE SMOKE!”  “WE HAVE SMOKE!”  “WE HAVE SMOKE"!”

If I wasn’t sitting on the plane rows behind him I might have found the situation hilarious.  Well it turns out that the smoke was caused by sudden heat, and moisture, and condensation, etc.  I don’t remember the technicalities of it all but I do remember the smoke and the smell of the smoke, and looking at my trusting children’s faces and my husband’s reassuring nods and thinking “Oh God, we are all going to die”. 

Imagine my thrill when the return flight home involved catching a 13-seater from D.C. to Cleveland.  The worst. Ever.

Continental Airlines: Cleveland, OH to Orlando, FL – same trip in ‘95.

This is the first time flying for my then 6-year old son.  He is excited.  I am nervous.  He insists he is a big boy and old enough to go to the restroom by himself.  You know, because peeing standing up in a moving airline ranks up there pretty high for an 6 year old boy.  While he is in the restroom we hit turbulence.  TUR. BU. LENCE.  I am holding my drink, I am holding my toddler.  My stomach is dropping along with the plane.  The captain comes on and tells everyone to “put your seats in the upright positions and fasten your seatbelts”. I am freaking out!!  Suddenly I remember, my poor baby is in the restroom!!  I look around frantically.  There is not a stewardess flight attendant in sight.  What do I do?  I am not allowed to “move around the cabin”.  My baby boy, he must be so scared!!  Minutes later he shows up next to me with this huge grin on his face.  “Mom!  That was soo cooool!!!”.   Like I said, he was 6.

Southwest Airlines: Cleveland, OH to Orlando, FL – April, 2008

My daughter and I are flying to Orlando for her cheerleading & dance competition.  It’s the big time folks.  The Ultimate National Championships.  The culmination of a year of practice, sweat, hard work, and sacrifice, and we both have the Seasonal Flu. The Flu, not a cold virus or a stomach bug, but the gosh darned, doctor confirmed, actual Influenza.  We have no choice.  We have to go.  She has no choice.  She has to compete.  We slept at the gate waiting to board the plane.  We were feverish and miserable and hoping that we’d be on the mend two days from then, when it would be time for her to put her game-face on.  We tried to steer clear of her teammates and her coaches.  We didn’t want anyone else infected. 

We were some of the last to board the plane.  In case you have never flown Southwest, you get to choose your own seats.  The front of the plane naturally fills up first, so we trudged to the back along with the rest of her team.  As we get to the rear of the plane it is evident that the seating is not going to work out and Lizzie and I will be separated.  Do her teammates offer up seats?  Heck no.  They’ve been planning their “flying buddy” for weeks now.  Do her coaches move for us?  No, and I still haven’t figured that one out yet.  As I stand there surmising the situation and trying to figure out what to do with my feverish, flu-ridden child, her Coach stands up and takes matters into her own hands.  As loud as she can she announces to the entire rear of the plane, “Excuse me everyone, we have a VERY sick child here.  Is there anyone that would be willing to give up a seat so she can sit with her mother?”  Yep.  She went there.  Now not only do I have a whimpering 13-year old, but I have the entire tail section of Flight 693 glaring at me and my “sick” child.  It was definitely not what they wanted to hear. 

Sooo, no one moved and we were forced to sit in different rows.  I made sure to sniffle and cough and be completely miserable as close to the personal air space of the person next to me as I possibly could.  Maybe he ended up sick, maybe he didn’t, but he can’t prove a thing.

Continental Airlines: Las Vegas/Cleveland – July, 2008

I went to Vegas on a business trip with my brother (yeah, it pretty much sucked being in Vegas for my first time, on a business trip, with my brother.)  By 2008 I had wonderful things to think about while flying, like 9/11 and Oceanic Flight 815, so flying for me was now more nerve racking than ever.  Enter Xanax.  Hello my little friend.  I first tried it back in April on the trip to Orlando and it did the trick.  So when I had to fly to Vegas I called up the doctor and requested a few pills to calm my nerves.  On the flight out to Vegas I took 1/2 pill which is like 1/2 mg. of Xanax.  It was enough to calm me down, plus I had my brother’s chatter to keep me occupied.  On the return flight home I was flying ALONE, my first time flying alone.  I was not happy.  I had to be at the airport at 5:00 AM.  I am sooo not a morning person. I tried to calm myself while visions of The Others danced through my head.  Then I had a light bulb moment.  Why not take a full dose of of Xanax instead of just 1/2 dose?  It can’t hurt right?  If anything I’ll get a nice buzz and have a calm and happy flight. 

I did mention that it was 5:00 AM right?  In my groggy, nervous state I took my double dose and then realized 5 minutes later (when I began to feel odd) that I didn’t just take double my dose, I TOOK TWO PILLS!  Double dose would have meant 1 whole pill, but since I was sleepy and not thinking clearly I mistakenly took 2 pills thinking my original dose was 1 pill!

Folks, I slept through takeoff.  I was smooshed up against that window with my neck all crooked, but I slept like a newborn babe.  The kind elderly lady smooshed up on my right side woke me when they served the food.  I ate the food (no idea what it was), and immediately fell back to sleep.  I woke up about an hour before we were scheduled to land and could not for the life of me figure out what large lake we were flying over.  It must have been a Great Lake, but I just couldn’t figure out how a straight line from Vegas to Cleveland would involve a Great Lake.  We were too far from arrival for it to be Lake Erie and I was perplexed.  To this day I still can’t figure out where the heck we were.  Anyway, I fell back to sleep and the kind lady woke me when we landed.

While we were taxiing in I called my Mom (who lives like 10 minutes from the airport) and asked her to come pick me up.  I got off the plane, stopped in the restroom to pee, and went straight to baggage claim.  There I stood in baggage claim for what seemed an eternity waiting for the luggage.  I began to get annoyed.  How long does it take to get the luggage from the plane to the terminal?  Where are the rest of the passengers?  I looked up at the monitor.  Yep, this was my flight.  What the heck was going on?  I looked to my left, I looked to my right, and then I looked left again.  That’s when I saw it.  My suitcase sitting all alone in the baggage claim, standing upright next to the conveyor belt.

What is going on here?  Where are the other passengers?  How did all of this happen so quickly?  Truth be told I must have passed out on the toilet.  It’s the only explanation that I can think of.  I know I went straight from the gate to the restroom to baggage claim.  I know I didn’t get lost.  I passed out on the john like a 17 yr. old at a rock concert.  I lost track of time.  I blacked out.  I OD’d on Xanax and I didn’t even get the benefit of a full prescription.  Wow!  I don’t remember the lift home from my parents, I don’t remember my family greeting me after my 8-day absence.  I just know I woke up the next morning and felt as good as new. 

Let’s just keep this between us, shall we?  What happens in/to/from Vegas stays in Vegas, right?

 

Whew!!  If you actually kept with me through the longest post in history and my goofy flying stories then you deserve a reward!! 

Here are links to posts written by two actual writers that tell much more humorous and compelling air travel stories than I do.  They are hilarious and favorites of mine.  The world of air travel according to Fussy and Dooce. 

Happy contrails to you, until we meet again!