What Gives?

I found an old post the other day from back in the day. OK, it was just 2006 but it was all about Unrealistic Expectations. I wrote the following lines,

"As it stands right now H & I are pretty even. I would hate it though if
suddenly I'm a haus frau with T.D. hanging on me AND I'm trying to get creative
and write. It ain't happening. Something has to eventually give."

Snort.

Looking back now and seeing where I am, I realize that um, that is exactly where I am. The only difference being that now I am trying to wrap my brain around how I'll do all those little errands, be a nice mother, make that a sane mother and wife (who remembers to affectionate), be a writer who makes a living and take care of an infant and toddler. Whew! It is no wonder we women think we have to be Super Woman just to get by.

The last week has had me knee-deep in the trenches of motherhood as I potty train T.D. My girls wants to potty time all the time , potty all the time in our house right now. Potty 24/7. I am literally cleaning up crap all day long and if you add in the dog debacle this week I might actually be knee-deep in piss and sh*t. All this while trying to construct a rate structure for a job, look for more work and wonder if I am possibly insane.

I no longer wonder if the ratio of who is doing what in our house is fair or really if he is doing his share. In our house, the rule is this, "marriage is 50/50 but sometimes, it just can't be. Sometimes one spouse is doing 90 while the other does 10 or visa versa and if it is a good working marriage it will even out in the long run." There is no keeping score or shouldn't be. H works his tail off and still manages to be an affectionate, loving, thoughtful spouse and father more often than not. Still, I often wonder as I look at him, if I'm doing enough to pull the weight. Especially when the house goes undusted, the laundry monster rears its ugly head or library books are painfully overdue. So while, I hate feeling haus frauish and that my put together look is a thing of the past (makes me cry just thinking about it) it seems I'm only keeping score against myself and that doesn't do anyone any good. What gives in the end has been me and I'm as shocked as anyone else. I've never felt less together in my life.

I am a bit concerned...

Nick Nolte mug shot

T.D. mug shot

Should I be worried? What next, she gets her big girl teeth and starts looking like Gary Busey?!

And How Was YOUR Morning?!

Scene: Our house. About 3:30 a.m.

H: Ssshhh!!! Quiet Lex! I said, Quiet!!

I toss and turn wondering how it is even possibly that hot for the dog to be panting so loudly. It's not that hot.

Fifteen minutes later H turns on the ceiling fan and I wait for the dog to stop that loud panting which previously, until H began yelling "shush!" I had not heard.

Realize that the panting had quieted down but um... it smells like the coffee maker is on. WTF?! Did H set the timer on the coffeemaker last night and set it for...check clock on nightstand which now reads 4:41 a.m. Sigh...

How on earth can I be smelling coffee?! Great! Now I'm starving. Roll out of bed and eat crackers furtively in bathroom then proceed to get a bloody nose. Lurrve being pregnant. Sleep is for the weak.

Resume toss and turn nightly game that I now play with my aching hips and finally fall asleep sometime after 5 a.m.

T.D. wakes at 6:54 a.m. asking for her potty. Minutes later I'm downstairs getting her breakfast when I see the dog, Lex, streak past me at warp speed and head outside. She is a blur of black and white. H calls downstairs, "HON! Where is Lex?!" Uh-oh. I yell up to him that is she is out doing her morning bizness and what gives?

Apparently massive amounts of dog feces in the middle of the night can smell just like burnt coffee. Rock on.

After bathing the dog, cleaning up after her and dosing her on the deck with Pepto the morning could finally begin for H & I. How did you start your day?


*MPR has a sunless tanner comparison and a giveaway to be featured by Olive Kids.

Three Pairs of Pants. One Day.

I know, I know. You say, "Mummy, you are so cool! How can I be more like you?" Well, here it is folks. If you want to live like me then here is a tip from me to you. It's called, "How to wear three pairs of pants in one day."

1. Volunteer to watch your friends 10 month-old. When baby throws up on your leg, lift him off one leg only to realize that his diaper has leaked and he has peed on your other leg. Now with both legs covered in bodily fluids ask your two year-old to go get your khaki pants. Clean up as best you can while changing baby and putting on second pair of pants. Thank toddler/maid for actually knowing how to get your pants.

2. Later in the day, while wearing khaki pants, let morning/all day sickness overcome you and wretch so hard into the toilet that you pee yourself. Enough to need new pants. Sigh. Cry out of shame and embarrassment over this new incontinence and being in your early 30's. Clean up, change and try to get on with your day wearing black Capri pants. Capri's that don't fit because you aren't in maternity pants yet but can't quite fit into your old Capri's either. Cry over this a bit and move on.

And that my friends, is how you wear three pairs of pants in one day. Don't you wish you were hot like me?

Strawberry Shortcake - The Nudist

As a kid, I grew up in the Ocean State. Ah, lil' Rhody with it's four hundred miles of beaches. Bet you didn't know that the smallest state in the country could boast so much coastline. We certainly had our pick of the beaches and of all those sandy strips my parents often chose the one that you actually had to strip at. That's right, a nude beach. Moonstone to be exact and I'm not trying to be funny.

Now a nature reserve for the piping plover or some such bird, Moonstone was a nude beach into the early 80's. As a small kid I didn't notice much of anything in the way of awkwardness I rather liked the whole no sand in the bathing britches factor and I was literally free to run around and play all day. Minus the fact that there were often few other children to play with it wasn't a bad beach. I would take my red backpack full of sand shovels, pails and Strawberry Shortcake dolls and follow my parents along the beach to the perfect blanket location. We'd set up for the day and I would take off whisking Shortcake, Huckleberry and Apple Dumpling off to exotic ocean side locales. Barbies were not for the beach but Strawberry went everywhere with me.

One day, as I sat on my parents blanket eating a sandy sandwich I realized something. Shortcake and company was missing! Where had she gone? My father piped in that she was probably by the shoreline where I had left her. I ran down to see only to discover that while Shortcake, Apple Dumpling and Huckleberry were all still sitting in the sand and basking in the sun, there clothes were no longer there. They had been washed out to sea! Gone. Forever. Not a trace of them was left behind. Not an apron, rubber shoe or poufy hat could be found. I was devastated. It was one thing for my parents and I to be naked, but it was quite another for Strawberry Shortcake.

While my mother bought replacement clothes they were never the same original outfits and the dolls never quite seemed the same to my anal-everything-must-be-right-self. From there on out I forever thought of Strawberry and friends as nudists.

For less traumatizing beach adventures check out PBN where you can read more stories and find out how to win a "Summer Fun Essentials Package"- a beach bag filled with summertime must-haves such as beach towels, pool toys, a sand castle building kit, and more! Plus, products from the Huggies® Little Swimmers® line.

**Lookie, lookie what one reader found- Poor Vintage Shortcake and Mint Shortcake.

A Bit of Clarification

You have to love Moms. Especially when they send you emails like this-

Hi Vicky,

I just read a few of your most recent daily blog items and noticed that you mention MPR. If you're referring to the radio network/station and it's broadcasts, it is NPR which stands for National Public Radio. Just thought I'd point that out. If that's not what you're referring to, then I stand corrected.

Love,
Mom

I love my Mom. I then emailed her back with, "Really? I always thought it was Mational Public Radio. Kidding." Later in the day we chatted and I filled her in. Hopefully now there is no question - MPR is Mummy's Product Reviews. Speaking of which- check it out- I'm giving away four items today. Four lucky readers will win something totally practical and fun!

In other news, the birthday festivities have officially begun. Last night the girls and I headed to Buzz for a night of cupcakes, wine or hot chocolate. The night was a lot of fun and my friends were so thoughtful with their gifts, which was not necessary but so sweet. I came away from the night feeling happy, excited about the weekend and refreshed despite practically closing the place down.

When I got home the house was decorated in streamers, balloons and banners courtesy of H and T.D. Could I ask for more? No. It was perfect and my birthday is not even until Monday. I feel so grateful.

Pffft... Who needs sleep?!

We don't need a new baby to give us sleepless nights. Nope. We have T.D. a.k.a. the Sleep Torturer. Just like her name, the Tiny Dictator, she has blossomed into a czar who makes sleeping four hours in a row seem like bliss.

For example:

I pass out at 7:30 p.m. last night. Lucky me. Sleep when baby sleeps right? Except baby is two and not napping in the afternoon and throwing a Goebbels-sized fit about going to bed. Somehow though the pregnancy hormones make it impossible for me to stay up any longer. I wake up two more times before 9 p.m. and officially turning in.

11:13 p.m.- The dictator arises. She is dissatisfied with her bumble bee blanket. How dare we try to provide extra warmth with such an inferior blanket. Rather than kick if off herself she just wails until we take it off.

I shuffle back to bed.

12 a.m.- Crying again. I open the door to her room and find she is A-OK. It's just a drill apparently. Kick ass.

I shuffle back to bed and trip over a dog bone.

2:32 a.m.- Screams can be heard from across the hall. T.D. is wet and highly pissed. No pun intended.

H stumbles back to bed after changing her.

We slumber for three blissful, uninterrupted hours until....

5:47 a.m.- Terror grips me as it sounds like a wild animal has attacked my child. Actually it is just thirst. She wants milk. At 5:47 a.m. I oblige if it will buy me more sleep.

6:42 a.m.- Awake again. The milk untouched, no diaper change needed the dictator is severely displeased with the book and toy selection in her room. Music is not acceptable either. I want to slam my head into something hard enough to deem me unconscious and therefore unable to deal with any of this. A pounding headache is beginning as is a cold. H snuffles in bed with the dog who both sound like a cold is imminent for them as well.

I lay in bed pleading for silence when at last it occurs until...

7:15



Today is the first of my birthday festivities and while I'm excited I just hope I can stay awake. Especially after having to take a meeting today and then driving everyone around tonight. I'm exhausted just thinking about it all.

Less is More

Want to buy a house for $50K? Well you can right here in the DC Metro area. It's true and it's unreal all at the same time. Everywhere you look these days houses are going into foreclosure, being abandoned and just taking six months or more to sell at prices lower than the appraised tax value.

House flipping has naturally taken a hit as well. With our most recent flip we sold it not in our regular fast pace of less than a week or even less than 24 hours but it took two months, two price drops and accepting an offer that made us little profit. It's disheartening at best but it is a sign of the times.

Reading the Washington Post fashion section in the Sunday Source this past weekend it became clear that even in that realm things are taking a hit. Designers are not offering up a lot of new things this season either. What was in style last summer or a spring must-have is the same this year. Gladiator sandals, patent shoes and bags, chunky jewelry and bright, bold colors are in again. Stores are reluctant to put new items on their shelves that most likely will not move as we have less and less disposable income.

While this can all seem quite depressing, especially if you are trying to sell or keep your home (a whole other issue not related to this post), I have found that it can also be a time of reflection. While consumerism is down due to lack of funds (what are you doing with your economic stimulus check? Let me guess. Paying bills?) it helps to realize that sometimes we need that step back to think about how we essentially need to consume less. Less is more. Those with more are statistically proven to not be any happier than those who consume or have less. Some people are even taking this time to buy nothing. While the 'Story of Stuff' has been making the rounds on YouTube it certainly warrants another look. We are indeed a nation of consumers and it is scary.

I'll step off my tiny soap box now and let you think about this for a second. Maybe if you are not of the mind to not buy anything for one whole month maybe try to just buy and consume less. OK, back on the box. Use less gas by eating out less. Sit down with our families more. Only buy what is on our list at Target this week. I know that is a tough one for everyone including yours truly. Try it for a day, a week, or a month and see where it gets you. Our wallets will be fatter and I can bet that our hearts will be a bit lighter too. It could be a great Project Life Change idea and something fun for the whole family.

I'm off the box now. And I don't feel like making my Target run today after all. I do however feel like going to the library and taking a walk with my kid.

Overheards

Scene: Our kitchen last night. H & I are cleaning up from dinner.

Me: Ugh... I don't know what is wrong with me. It's maddening. I hit this wall at this time every night (6:14-19 p.m. I swear it is that accurate) and I just feel so awful no matter what I do.

H: mumbling under his breath as he puts something away in the fridge. Snorts with laughter to himself.

Me: What? What was that you just said?! I didn't hear you....

H: Nothing! I didn't say anything. (smirks)

Me: No, you did! I heard something. What was it you said?! Tell me or I swear that dirty steak knife sitting in the sink will be used.

H: OK...(sighing) I just said, "It's when you take your bitch pill..."

Me: WHAT?! That is not funny!!! (giving him an Elaine Bennis shove)

H: I know. It's like one of those things that seems funny in your head and then once you say it, not so much.

Me: Um... that is never funny in your head.



********
MPR has some great reviews up. One PBN sponsored girly review and another French Country inspired one from Le Couvent Des Minimes.

Marathon Monday

I can tell that today is going to be one of those days. Where it is barely 8 a.m. and I feel like I'm already running around in circles and wishing I could attach that old IV of caffeine to wheel around with me.

After an exhausting but fun weekend away visiting family we are all feeling a bit done. Well, all meaning the 'rents and not T.D. The kid took a four hour nap yesterday afternoon and was up bright and chipper at the wonderful hour of 6 a.m. My eyes would not budge open and my limbs felt dead to the world. As I lay there willing myself to get up and start the day I wonder- is it even worth throwing in the gym time when I feel like Mondays are a marathon anyway?

6:30 a.m.- Wake up Momma! Run upstairs and throw on gym clothes (yes, we have a loft bathroom which H loathes and I love.)

6:40 a.m.- Run down two flights of stairs and feed the dog and T.D. This requires me back tracking all over the kitchen as both dog and kid do loops around me as I put water and dog food in bowls, scoop yogurt into a dish, get milk and beg the coffeemaker to pour itself into a cup for me, pretty please?!

6:45 a.m.- Pour coffee. Leave it on counter as I run upstairs to fight the laundry monster. It has grown to epic proportions and I am beginning to wonder if the dog is wearing our clothes at night and sneaking them into the laundry. How can three people generate so much laundry?!

7:15 a.m.- Laundry sorted. Run down stairs with first load. Drop on living room floor to get T.D. more milk. Wipe up yogurt on T.D. and kitchen table and top of dogs head. Dog is relieved it no longer has to try and extend her tongue to the top of her head to get at said yogurt.

7:20 a.m.- Run downstairs to laundry room. Realize that while the washer is empty the dryer is not. Clothes from Friday, still damp, are sitting in there. Re-wash. Sigh. Throw other pile on floor and try to shut laundry room door without the laundry monster busting out and biting my ankles.

7:25 a.m.- Turn on desktop in office to print items I need for the day. Become scattered, leave office, stare at laundry, run upstairs to start a grocery list.

7:30 a.m.- See coffee. Gaze at it and become distracted by cries for more yogurt. Get yogurt for T.D. She screams at me that it is really cereal she wants. Pour cereal. Pour milk. She screams. No Milk. Want to claw my own eyes out.

7:40 a.m.- Run back downstairs to laundry room and rip out laundry in dryer. Will air dry. Must get laundry monster under control. Dash back upstairs after fiddling with desktop postal forms for ten minutes to no avail. International shipping requires a trek to the dreaded post office where I will feel I've lost a decade off my life. Small post office near me only takes cash and UPS is a total price raping for even the smallest package. Must head across town I realize to a 'real' post office.

7:55 a.m.- Sip coffee. Grocery list is completed with little gagging on my behalf as all food still seems totally unappetizing unless it is the following food groups- Popsicles, cream cheese and pasta.

8:20 a.m.- Run upstairs, strip bed. Growl at laundry in corner and run away as it growls back. Back downstairs I stare at emails about potential job inquiries that I need to take and yet I'm afraid of. I hate that about myself. I must grow a set and just take on some new projects. Realize Australian stroller company I want to review has no contact information on their site. WTF?!

9:03 a.m.- Throw dry cleaning, postal supplies, library books and all other needed errand related paraphernalia at the front door. Think about gym time. Realize I need it desperately but how on earth will I ever get anything done if I go?

9:11 a.m.- Get T.D. dressed. Throw on shoes. Load up the car. Pack snacks for me and the babe and head out the door with no game plan on where to go to next. Think about crawling back into bed and finishing latest Kinsella book.

If you see me out and about today around town. Just ignore me. I'm nice deep down inside and I really don't bite. I'm just running the Monday marathon.

Random Question # 113

While you can easily admit that you are obsessed with your iPod or MP3 player you know that what is on that little device also consists of some dirty little secrets. Go on, share. You know you want to. What dreadful songs do you rock out to or harmonize with when no one else is around?

If someone at the gym just grabbed your earbuds would you melt into the treadmill in shame because you were listening to something like, Vanilla Ice or Weird Al?

I'll confess to-

The Muppet Theme Song (shut up, it destresses me.)

I Gotta Man by Positive K

Freak Like Me, Adina Howard

Faded, by Soul Decision

The Power of Love, Huey Lewis & the News

Arthur's Theme, Christopher Cross


There are more, many more that are equally bad or even worse. H says, that it just demonstrates my lack of taste in music, but I think you get the idea.

Harry Potter Thinks I Need to Clean My Tub

They say that with pregnancy comes cravings, the frequent need to pee and a host of other fun things that we have either forgotten about or never experienced. Do they ever mention the bizarre host of dreams though?

Since becoming 'with child' as H calls it I've -

Walked in on Harry Potter making acne medication/potions in my guest bathroom only to then hear him complain about the dirty state of my bathtub. My father then entered the room and said, "Eehh, it's not so bad. I've used it plenty. Relax, Harry!" Hmmph. Good enough for me and I told 'ol Potter there that if he didn't like the tub then he could just 'magic' it clean himself and left.

Had Michael Caine over for dinner. He wore a blue blazer, white shirt and a gold ascot. We had loads of fun and it was a fine evening had by all. I didn't even look at his teeth once!

Had numerous dreams about T.D. being kidnapped by anyone from some religeous sect (too much news watching that day) to little old ladies who look sweet but pack heat.

Most recently, there was the shark movie I was in. Uh, yeah. It was all Tron looking and at one point one of the actors, might have been Michael Caine, had his whole sharky face fall off and we just kept filming. I think that film might be up for an '08 Razzie award shortly.

Other than the T.D. nappin' nightmares there seems to be some sort of movie theme going on here. Maybe, I have been really needing a taste of Hollywood after all and it was a good thing E visited.

MPR is giving away a beautiful Provence inspired hand-printed tablecloth today! Visit the site to find out how to get your hands on one!

In Which I Beg for Work

OK, maybe beg is to harsh a word. However, I have a sudden burst of energy and need to work again so I'm out there. Looking. A lot.

Sometimes I get all in a zone and happy about it. Other times I am amazed at the crap that is put out there for writers.

Loking for talented freelance writers (to write what? ads? because this is
surely not your strong suit) to assit in my marketing plan/website/write my book
for/term paper for me. Will pay you nothing or next to nothing. Pleeze
spek good Eunglish.

yeah. It's like that. You want to write 10,000 words for $30? Seriously, folks it can be brutal.

For now though, don't think of me looking for work, think about fun finds and the awesome books I've reviewed recently.

Dear Trader Joe's

Dear Trader Joe's,

It is Joe right? Not Giotto, Jose or whatever alias you might feel like going by today? I'm on to you. I will admit you snuck one by me and I'm very disappointed in you Joe. Very disappointed.

When I visited your open and friendly store just last week you were chocked full of delightful supplies. Even your bathroom was clean and sweet smelling. I purchased many items from you as I am wont to do when I set foot on your premises. Each. And. Every. Time. You suck me in Joe. I am truly a sucker for you.

So when I saw your delicious, fresh key lime pie I knew I had to have you. Have you I did as I proudly placed you on the register to be scanned. I placed you lovingly in my car and took you home with me. Oh beautiful not scary green key lime pie. Not too tart, not too sweet. We saved you for a few days in the freezer just like we were supposed to and then thawed you out but nope! Not for too long. I wanted you to be just right. No frozen bits for me! After Mother's Day dinner (a place of honor, I remind you.) you were set out for dessert. Oh luscious pie. Sweet, sweet smelling lime filled pie with the perfect consistency and not too crumbly graham cracker crust. You never let me down whether it is just us dining alone or with company. You send me! I could not wait a second longer. I dove my fork into you and pulled out the perfect bite!

Err.. what is this?!? My mouth! It is full of sand. Trader Joe! You traitor! The texture of your key lime pie is like a mouthful of sand and then paste! What?! What is this awful metallic taste? I did not just ingest a mouthful of keys! Blech! Plack!!! Yick!! I watch in horror as we all simultaneously spit you out, you nasty gravel pit pie! Some tried to take more than one bite not believing what their taste buds were telling them. Many shoved you aside. Including moi.

I am disappointed in you Joe. What happened? Is this how it is going to be from now on? No more smooth texture and fresh key limey taste? Just a mouthful of beach sand like paste and the taste of stainless steel? For shame, Joe! For shame!

Our relationship with your pies will never be the same again.

A Letter to My Mother

Dear Mom,

I suppose, it being Mother’s Day and all, I could have bought you a nice flowery, probably pink card from Hallmark or American Greetings and that would have sufficed. Except that while those cards all say wonderful and true things sometimes only a letter will do. So here you go- a nice sappy, heartfelt THANK YOU, just for you this Mother’s Day.

Thank you for all that you have done for me this year whether it was coming to take care of me in my time of need, when life got too crazy and I simply needed my mother or when a beautiful deck just needed to be built. My yard is forever changed and it just goes to show that you do in fact, always need your Mom no matter how old you are.

Thank you for teaching me grace and manners. In this world today, they sometimes seem antiquated or quaint but they are in fact, invaluable. Because of you, I do not lick my fingers. I know where a napkin goes at all times and I can walk with my head held high safe in the knowledge that I know how to write a proper thank you note and so much more.

Thank you for being a role model all throughout my life. While we may not always agree or take on life’s challenges in quite the same way your guidance, advice and mentoring has enabled me to pick myself up and find my own inner strengths. Through your words, hugs and more I know my talents as well as how to trust and follow my instincts.

Thank you for the friendship that has endured and only become stronger as I have grown from a child to a woman and a mother. You are always there in the good times and the bad, you rarely judge and when you do it is because frankly, I am probably making it hard not to. You are one of the best people I know to talk to and it is why I still cherish our weekly phone calls after all these years.

Thank you for showing me the first signs of love, how to love, to let go and what being a good partner and friend really means. I love you and Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!!!

Love, Vicky

XXOO

Friday Roundup!

Howdy Pardner's!

Sorry I just could not resist having the word roundup and not using some lame cowboy terminology. Let's get the admin stuff out of the way shall we?

Winnah! Winnah! Chicken Dinnah! See the winning photos of the SanDisk Cruzor Gator flash drive contest over at MPR here. Check out the fun find, coupons and more while you are over there. You just never know what you'll find!

More on the Avon Walk.

In case you have been in a hole the past few days read this and this. That first one? Did you get it all? Did you make it through? I think you deserve some sort of medal of honor if you did. That second one? Blech, Kathie Lee, just blech. And that's not Maria Bailey, but Jill Asher over there on the Today show segment.

I'm off to find an ace bandage/over the shoulder boulder holder for the rocks that have taken over my chest. Have a shippymcflippyshadippy fanfeckingtastic weekend y'all!

*Pop!*

Yup. You heard it too?



That is the sound of me expanding. I've popped. In one day.



From Saturday to Sunday this weekend I seem to now be showing. You would think with all the walking and ab work I did it would have made a difference, but bean number two or Dash Two as I'm referring to this kid until some personality shows, has decided to makes it presence known.



Maternity clothes are in effect and I'm diggin' the rubber band look for my pants. While not quite ready for most maternity shirts my regular fitted ones no longer fit. I'm in a clothing dilemma. This is where I need some kind-hearted designer or maternity clothing company to send me some of those in-between clothes. AHEM!



Also, today is the last day to enter my SanDisk Mother's Day contest. It's 8GB people! Jump on board before it's too late!!!

Like a Tonic

What is it about having your best friend visit that works on you just like a tonic?

Is it the hours and hours of loafing about as you converse on anything from organic food, insane drivers, politics or basically nothing at all?

Is it the concentrated girly time despite my not being able to stay up past 10 pm each night? (Sorry E!)

The sitting over breakfast in our pjs or making dinner together as we jam to bad itunes?

I pick all of the above and more. Before, H surprised me with E's visit this weekend (where I turned into a blubbery mess in front of many people and it is documented on film that I do in fact, have tear ducts that work) I was getting into that zone where you feel a bit dried up. You crave dear, old friend time. New friends are great but there is something to be said for that person who has known you for a lifetime and the bond that is sisterly in strength. To see your best friend meet your child for the first time and watch them hit if off completely makes you love them that much more. I think I even garnered a new appreciation for T.D. seeing her through the eyes of E.

I feel restored and happy. Like a light has been back on despite having just dropped her off at the airport. When T.D. exclaimed, "I want my Rika! I miss Rika" as we pulled away from the departure zone my heart broke a bit and I could only say, "Yup. Me too, kid. Me too."

A partial team photo, end of day two.

We started off at 4:45 a.m. on Saturday. I sat on my front steps in the dark listening to the early morning sounds feeling the weather. It was going to be a beautiful day. At last! My first walk without rain! My bag was packed, sleeping bag aired out, and my socks were dry. I was ready to go.

Upon entering Opening Ceremonies you could feel the energy flowing through the air. 3800 walkers strong, we were ready to make our statement and begin the walk through DC. It's emotional, exciting and intense to be in a crowd of that many people all working and fighting for one cause. Each year I never fail to tear up as survivors give their stories and remind us why we spend months fundraising, training and finally walking for a cure.

The first days route took us past many of the monuments the city is famous for. It became hot and there were many hills. A few friends came out along the way to cheer me on and it made my day! I felt pretty good until lunchtime when the rest stop ran out of both water and Gatorade. I got a little nervous for a bit when I thought about being dehydrated and wandering around the city. It felt even hotter then. Finally, they were re-stocked at the next quick stop and can I just say, purple Gatorade rocks! It was quite possibly one of the best things I could drink. After 13 miles we hit the half marathon mark and headed into camp at Norwood Park in Bethesda, MD. Tired, dirty and ready to lay down, eat or simply sit under the stream of the shower I felt pretty done. I might have layed in my tent and dozed for a bit. It was a blur. This walk wore me out way more than others. I was in bed by 8:30. Sad, but true.

The second day dawned bright and early with the sounds of camp filling the air. The breakfast line was almost out of camp. After a hearty breakfast of everything you can think of of we headed out to tackle the last 13 miles. We moved at a fast clip and made good time. Once we hit lunch we were back in the city with the sun hitting our faces wondering where the heck Reese Witherspoon was in all this. We heard she was going to walk the last three miles and make a speech at Closing Ceremonies. Along the way we stopped to take more photos, passed the White House, and I gagged into a trashcan a few times feeling completely exhausted and I must admit, a bit like a wuss. This is typically a cake walk for me but this year I struggled and it bothered me. I just wanted it over with and I wanted my tub.



Suddenly, over the sea of walkers we could see the finish line. The bright pink arches were just ahead! I felt excited, a bit nervous and thrilled to have made it. This year was more than a walk for a cure but a journey for myself as well. I pushed myself to finish and I felt relieved that I made it. As I crossed the finish line I saw familiar faces of other walkers, friends, their families and then H & T.D. I waved to them and didn't even realize one main thing. H was not the one holding T.D., it was E. She was here!! What the? Shocked and excited beyond belief I just lost it and cried and hugged her as she held T.D. My best friend since I was T.D.'s age had flown in from LA to see me! It was incredible and all H's idea! Can you believe it? I still can't.


Home now and a few days later I can't believe the walk is over and that another year is done and gone. My fourth year and while it was different it was completely worth it. Thank you to everyone who has cheered me on in emails, phone calls, comments and more. The donations you sent helped to raise over 8.1 million dollars and counting. You too did an amazing job! THANK YOU!


*The last two photos taken by official Avon Press photographer, Candace Hoffman.

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Walking the Walk

Because I'm still reeling from the weekend I'm including a few pics of the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. The walk was picturesque to say the least and I made it largely in part to my awesome team and my meds. I'm beat but happy! I did it!

I seem to do this everywhere...


It was a truly beautiful morning with all the check the boxes views of the District.

There will be more later on the actual walk and the big surprise that H had waiting for me at the finish line. Now? Now, I must rest my tired dogs.

The Road to Recovery

We had good news yesterday and for that I am relieved. There is another reason though for that much needed and great relief.

I got meds.

While I haven't talked about it much to anyone, which quite honestly is unlike me and I think a sign of how bad things had actually gotten, things were pretty bad for me. When I asked for drugs to reduce the nausea and sick a few weeks back I was 'pooh poohed' by my doc. This time? New doctor. When I told her about how I couldn't even tolerate water or much of anything else, the frustrations I've had about food and heartburn which make me not want to consume anything anymore she agreed it was time to put me on a path to better wellness.

Here's the thing that I didn't discuss with her though. The big guns I would have drawn out if I had been refused medication again. The constant feeling of being sick and so sick have made me depressed. It's been increasingly hard to get out of the house the last two months. It is as if with this pregnancy a form of agoraphobia has set in. It wasn't getting better either. It was only getting worse with each passing day. I tried to play it off but I could feel it closing in. My house felt like a jail but when pressed to leave it anxiety would rise up and play off the constant nausea. I've had panic attacks before but not for a few years and the addition of them added on to the morning sickness has gotten a bit too much to bear.

As sour as my stomach has been so has my attitude. As bitter and awful as the constant heartburn has been so have the anxiety attacks. The frequency of them was increasing by the day and I was beginning to wonder in frustration if I would ever know normal again. This just made me more upset and depressed. It was a pretty vicious cycle.

While I don't want to say I'm better yet, just two days on the meds and I'm feeling a bit more like myself. I'm no longer gagging every few minutes so that T.D. says, "bless you Mommy" and gets that worried look on her face that no two year-old should possess. The fact that she has learned to rub my back while I get sick is so sad to me I almost cannot bear it. I'm hoping that the Grape-nuts I puked up in the shower yesterday will be one of the last. I feel like maybe I am finally seeing the sun. That for the first time since I signed up for the walk this weekend I might actually want to do it. It is such a nice feeling.

Oh Just a Tad Nervous

I'm a wee bit nervous today. OK, maybe more like A LOT nervous. Today is the day we get to hear this bean's heartbeat for the first time and this day always fills me with some fear.

I get all excited when we first make the appointment but as the day draws closer I find myself almost not wanting to go in fear that all we will hear is silence. That the anxious feeling I possess will overtake the room and be palpable as it spreads to everyone else in the room. I tell myself that all the miserable sick of the past few weeks is a sign that things are going just swimmingly and I have no reason to worry but the fear persists.

So today we know. I'm glad I'm not going alone. H will be there to hold my hand and that makes it better even when I just think about it.



Want something a bit more cheerful? Read this.