My Thoughts on Halloween

     Oh my God--who made these delicious brownies with orange-tinted frosting and Halloween sprinkles AND candy corn on top?  Me?  That was fantastic of me to make these.  I love them.  They looked so beautiful in the pan, and then turned into a horrid lump (OF GOODNESS) on the cake plate.  It's Halloween.  I shall dub them "monster brownies" and call it a day.  Every bite that I deny taking as I walk by the plate is more delicious than the last 10 bites that I denied taking.  Mmmmmm.  I hate you, Weight Watchers points.  Hate hate hate hate.  I will love you tomorrow morning when I come back to you like a long, lost love, begging for another chance at our relationship.  Offering apologies, needing another try.  But tonight, it is an affair with the brownie pile on my counter.  Halloween Heaven.

     My daughter is a goblin.  Truly.  And if my parents have ever claimed NOT to wish a version of my teenage self on me, well, either it didn't work, or I was never a demon, because a demon-spirit of some form has entered my daughter right at the scariest time of year.  Tonight, she stood outside of the car at the dance studio stomping her foot at me, lecturing me, yelling at me, and then accusing me of being worked up.  Sorry, Miss-I-Want-To-Go-To-The-Marine-Corps-Ball-With-A-Boy-Who-Invited-Me-Via-Email, but I'm not worked up.  I'm just driving you to dance and YOU'RE worked up and making a Super Tween Fool of yourself in the parking lot.  Have a brownie.  Get your period.

    Swine flu has left the building.  And a 15-year old boy (or as Lisa texted me recently, "boyman") is truly that.  A boyman.  Boys aren't any fun when they are sick.  Girls, when sick, are fun.  We like trays of treats in bed, magazines, television, games, and conversation.  Men (and boys) apparently, only want 100,000 different beverages and ESPN.  So boring for me while Jono had the swine.  But I am glad that he seems to have weathered the nastiness well.  For all of the news coverage, I must say, it wasn't too bad.  Knock wood.

     Abby and her friend were picked to paint a window in town for Halloween.  So nice-- a sparkly pumpkin, some clocktower bats (you have to know the town), some ghosts.  Jono is retroactively pissed, reminded suddenly that he and his friend Connor came up with a window idea in the 5th grade and I wouldn't let him sumbit it the drawing.

     "Jono, you drew a black man in a pumpkin costume.  Not that there's anything wrong with that, it was just a weird entry."
     "Mom, it was Snoop Dog.  You should have seen Connor's first picture.  It said, 'Happy Hallo-wizzie."

     And so, Halloween weekend approaches and Abby will turn 12 the day after.  (I'm sure she'll be lovely as the gifts and cards begin to arrive.)  This time of year, I am always reminded of the night I went into labor.  Jono, at three, had just finished trick-or-treating, dressed as a cow.   I was admitted to the hospital just after midnight, where the entire staff found it funny to be dressed in costume.  Or maybe I was just drugged.  Either way, I didn't really care for it.  I didn't then, nor do I now,  want anyone near my hoo-ha with green hands, get it, Dr. Frankenfinger?

     And these are my thoughts this Halloween week.  To you, and yours, Happy Hallo-wizzie.

Sam Fell Down and I'm Going to Bed

Jammies.
Mike's Mojito.
Melba toast and Laughing Cow cheese.
Laptop, phone, TV remote all on my bed with me.  Ahhhh.  Life is good.

It's 6:23 pm.  Listen, sometimes a girl needs to call it a early night :)  This balloon boy story totally wore me out (I'm so glad he was found safely in the attic, but is anyone else cynically suspecting the parents of seeking cable TV fame?  Former WifeSwap contestants?  Anyone?  Anyone?  Bueller?)

Another reason I am tired:  yesterday, Sam fell and hit is face on a cement step, and to quote one of the witnesses, "he was a tiny, little, sad, curly, bloody hot mess."  And that same little mess curled up with me and slept all night in my bed with two wet washcloths.  A very early dentist visit this morning, and aside from two extremely loose baby teeth, a giant fat lip, and lots of small cuts and bruises, he's fine.  Apparently, however Sam fell, he did it exactly right.  As most of you know,  he learned that skill from his mother.

Six days of 'cillan,
Five bloody washcloths,
Four drinks of Yoo-hoo,
Three trips to Drug Mart,
Two new Lego sets
And a junior chocolate Steak-n-Shake shake.

And on that note. . . I'm calling it a night. :)  

Friday, Busy Friday!!

Friday.

I drive Lisa to the hospital for a cat scan, and after, we go to Corky and Lenny's for lunch.  It is here that Lisa says these instantly infamous words to Chad, our waiter:  "If you try to take my plate, I will stab you with my fork."  So subtle.  We stop for some shopping at Anthropology (giant flower pins are in, so are ruffles, so are jodphurs)  and then at the new Northface store.   I drop Lisa at home, and check the time.  1:48.  Can I make it to Target for Sam's khaki pants, and back to the bus stop by 3:00 to meet Jono and drive him to Solon for his 3:30 doctor's appointment?  Yes.  I drive fast to Target, get pants (and a few other things) throw them quickly into cart, check out, drive home, meet the bus, drop Abby at home, instruct her to get Sam off of his bus, and drive Jono to his well-visit.  He is well.  And aside from the moment where Jono uses the word "bi-atch" to describe someone to the doctor, the appointment goes pretty well.    (Ah, fifteen.  How I love you.)  We walk away with 15,000 prescriptions for asthma medications, and the instructions that I need to let Jono handle his respiratory health and possibly fail.  Oh, and he has a nickel allergy, which explains the rash on his belly, near where his cheap belt-buckle must be rubbing.  Nickel, peanuts, morphine, opiates.  Why not?  The doctor tells him he can never be a drug addict, because he'll be one big, walking hive.  I was kicked out of the second half of the appointment, but I think it went okay.

We stop at the grocery store for a birthday card, gum, mints, and a zucchini.

We stop at McDonald's for Jono.

I make it back to Hudson around 5:15, in time to drop off Jono, comb my hair, change my sweater, and pick up Cindy for a friend's birthday dinner.  We have a drink first, get hit on by an elderly man at a bar, after which Cindy invites him to an Elder-Life event at church, and tells me that I'll be serving at that particular event.  Sounds good.  We leave the bar and head to the dinner at the Chinese restaurant.  It's so nice, except that I get 100 phone calls and texts from Adam, whose car has broken down on the side of the highway.  Two rainy hours, two tow trucks, and one police car later, it is determined that I do not have to go to the dealership; he has a ride home.   Then Abby calls.  Her sleepover friend has arrived, but the mom has not just dropped her off.  They're waiting for me in the house.  Ah.  Adam was supposed to be home but he's with the tow truck.  I leave the restaurant in a hurry, drive home, and find my friend Shelia seated in my family room talking to Jono, while Sam entertains her with his new magic set.  Abby and Mairead, Sheila's daughter, are dressed in last year's Halloween costumes, laughing hysterically.  They are preparing for. . . wait for it. . . "Leave a Zucchini on Your Neighbor's Porch  Day."  There is nothing to be done but to allow it to happen.  I offer Shelia a glass of wine, but she declines, and leaves me to deal with the sqaush on my own.


It is 8:43.  My children have not been fed, since Adam never came home.  I call Donatos Pizza.
"Thank you for calling Donatos.  This is Jim, pick-up or delivery?"
"Delivery," I say.
"You're on Pinebrooke?"
"Yep."
"Hang on," he says.  I hear muffled sounds, questions, talking.  "We don't deliver out there anymore."
I don't know what to say.
"It's a Hudson address," is what comes out of my mouth.
"Sorry about that," says Jim, whom I picture as a skinny teen-ager.
I hang up.
I call back.
"Thank you for. . "
I interrupt Jim.  "Jim, I just called about a delivery on Pinebrooke."
"Oh, yeah," he says.
"Listen, I'm not going to be ordering from you, but I want to understand your delivery radius, since I live a mile and a half away from you."
"Hang on."  I hear muffled conversation again.  I hear something like, "do you want me to tell her that?"
He comes back and says, "Yeah, I talked to our manager and our map doesn't even go that far out."
"HOW FAR OUT?" I say.  "Do you deliver to the schools?  To Stow Road?  To the high school?  I'm closer than all of those."
"Yeah, that's weird."
That was the resolution?  "Yeah, that's weird??"
I called Pizza Hut.  I was told that an AWESOME delivery guy would delivery my order in 30 minutes. And that's exactly what happened.

I feel as strong need to call and talk to the manager at Donatos.  But I feel even more strongly that Jim is 15 and his manager is 16.

At 9:00, I call Lisa to tell her everything.  Adam on the highway, the ridiculous pizza story, Sheila beating me to my house.  Lisa is tired.  She listens.  Then she tells me to call her in the morning, she's going to sleep.
Saturday, she calls me and asks, "Did we talk last night?  I think I was asleep.  Stupid Ambien."
I told her all of it again, adding in the zucchini details.  It's okay.  All I needed was a listener.  And a pizza.

Summer, Over and Out.

Just thinking about my friend Lisa tonight.  She is having a scan tomorrow; her leg hurts.  But after this long summer of battling cancer, a scan is a scary thing.  Cancer sucks.  On the bright side,  I know Lisa gets to drink some delicious barium tonight and tomorrow. . .mmmmm. . . fantastic.  She heard it was better refrigerated.  Serve chilled, over ice. . . sounds great.

I know the scan will be fine; she's had good news lately.  She's just sick of hospitals, and I'm sick of them for her.  

It's finally fall. . .we've gotten to the point where we can look BACK on this summer.  It's over.  Lisa has been waiting for sweaters, mums, pumpkins.  For Halloween.  Thanksgiving.  Christmas.  All things that signify that this summer is gone.  

Go Lisa.  Go get your scan and come back to the bubble.  We have lots of autumnal things to do.  I'm not sure what that means, but I'll figure it out. . . 

It's a Tivo-Wonderful World

Hey, friends.  Thanks for all of the comments about my headache.  I feel much better today, and am catching up on TiVo and cleaning a closet, which is a good sign.  Which reminded me that I wanted to post a list of my favorite television shows in case you are in need of something new to add to your fall TV line-up.  We have three TiVos in our house, for the very simple reason that I don't always know where I will be when the urge strikes me to watch a recorded program.  I like to record shows in the basement so I am motivated to get on the treadmill, and so far, that's worked twice.

Here are my recent favorites:

Network Shows:

Grey's Anatomy 
The Biggest Loser
Brother's and Sisters ( Note:  I really need Rob Lowe and Calista to get along this season.  Remember the show "Mad About You?"  Helen Hunt and Paul Reiser spent a whole season fighting and the show was really more like "Mad At You."  I don't care for that.

Desperate Housewives

Dancing with the Stars
Modern Family
Flash Forward
So You Think You Can Dance
Private Practice
Amazing Race (If you TiVo, remember to record the show that follows, usually Cold Case, because football runs long, and you will miss the end.  Just a tip.)

I watched the first Episode of Mercy, but I wasn't thrilled.  I didn't hate it, but I wasn't waiting for it this week, you know?

I wish there was a political drama.  I really miss The West Wing.

I sometimes catch the Monday night sitcoms with Jono, and I always love How I Met Your Mother, and we both love The Big Bang Theory.  It is VERY well written.  There's a new show on Monday. . . Accidentally on Purpose.  It's funny; Dharma is in it, and she always makes me laugh.

Some cable favs:

Flipping Out (so, so, so, so crazy.  I love it.)
Hoarders
Obsessed 
Project Runway

I'm sure there are others--  Lisa, what am I missing???  We both like those design shows, like Top Design and Design Star, but I don't think they're on right now.  Also, Kathy Griffin: Life on the D-List, but it bordered on uncomfortable for me this season.  And that takes a lot. . .

I also TiVo Oprah and Days of our Lives, but I only watch these when I feel like it, usually when I'm folding laundry and making beds.  Easy to delete episodes that don't interest me.  Lately Oprah's been awesome. . . did you catch the Whitney 2-parter?  Crack is WHACK, Bobby!!!

To answer the unspoken question, I don't watch all of these all the time.   I pick and choose.  Mostly I choose to watch.  Thank you, TiVo, for giving me the option of pause and rewind, morning or night.

I just didn't want Tuesday to go by in case you didn't have The Biggest Loser on your schedule.  Speaking of that, I'm still hoping for a Medium Loser edition.
If I could just have 3 weeks on that show. . .

And of course, starting in January, Tuesdays be an official holiday because American Idol will be back.   


Gotta scoot!  Have a good day, everyone :)

Pumpkin-Head

FINALLY,  I am sitting in my bed, watching Desperate Housewives.  I have just escaped from the noise and confusion of downstairs, and made it safely to the haven of my bedroom with my laptop, the newest edition of Oprah magazine, a Tervis Tumbler of ice water, and 6 Brach's Mellowcreme pumpkins.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.  And again.  Breathing in the good, breathing out the bad.  I am two days post-migraine. . .  badness, be gone!

It was noisy down there.  And I'm the first to admit that this is the pot calling the kettle black, or at least a very dark shade of navy.  I am a noisy girl.  I escaped football (which I really do love) and headed to the basement to watch television in the cool darkness, and then down stomped the children for a ping-pong tournament.  Ping-pong is. . .um. . . loud.  There was a Jenga tower collapse, iTunes playing on the computer, and more television.  Even Abby doing the dishes seemed extraordinarily loud.  I was grateful for her help.  I kissed her on the cheek, and it echoed in my head.

Sam went to bed after hugs all around.  One down, two to go.  Although, I was fairly certain I would be next anyway.

Obviously, I am in need of one last painkiller and a good night's sleep to fix this final day of coming down from the pain.  "And a back rub," I told Adam.  He agreed, since I spent a good part of the day updating his iPhone since I happen to be good at that kind of stuff.  More noise, more screens, more buttons.  Ergh.

Why is Sam back downstairs?

     "All of the continents are falling off of my Earth balloon.  South America fell, and then Antarctica.   The label for the Arctic Ocean fell off, too, but I stuck it back on."  He is holding the construction paper continents in his hand.  
     "We can fix it all tomorrow, Sam.  Put the continents on your dresser and I will help you glue them tomorrow."
     Off he went, with the whole world in his hand, or much of it, anyway.

     It was 8:44.  I knew I needed to scat to bed if I was to have any time alone upstairs before everyone came loudly upstairs.  A mad rush to gather my things.  Water, magazine, computer, purse, and a quick dip into the bag of pumpkins that most everyone thinks are gross except me.   Post-headache, I can't think clearly.  I want 6 pumpkins.

     Here's the thing about my stupid headaches.  I hate them, clearly.  I didn't feel well on Thursday, and I took some pain medicine, thinking, "something's coming."  And then it did.  Did I cause it to happen?  There are days I talk to my mom and she'll say, "Do you have a headache?" and I say, "No, why?"  And then about 2 hours later I get one.  She says she can tell by the way I'm speaking or acting.  I should try to use my mom like a headache Ouija board--you know, call her to find out when and where the headache will strike so I can use preventative methods, or at least, hideout and be prepared.

     Jono is ransacking his room for clothes, I can hear it.  I hope his baseball pants are clean because God knows I'm not going back downstairs.  I checked on Sam and he's sleeping with his head at the foot of his bed, Earth balloon dangling from the curtain rod.  Abby is asleep, and Adam will be upstairs in exactly 4 minutes, because that's the way he rolls.

It was noisy for a while.  It was peaceful for a while.  And now it's bedtime.

Good night stars, good night moon
Good night iTunes, good night Earth balloon :)