Grandma Sini

Tonight was the one year anniversary of my Grandma Sini’s death. There are no words to describe how much I miss her. She was ninety-one when she passed, but I stil feel as though we were robbed of a good 10 years.


In February of last year, they found cancer in her lungs. In her later years she was not a smoker. In fact, I never knew she smoked at all. But she lived in a time where smoking was the norm. She and my grandfather owned bars, and of course, what else did people do back then besides drink and smoke. So not only was she inhaling her own, she was also receiving a massive amount of second hand smoke each day.

I have written a little bit about my grandma before, but I can’t seem to find the words to do her justice. She was the grandma that everyone dreams to have. She treated me and my sister as though we were the only two important people in the whole world. Nothing was off limits in her home. All the grandkids could sit at her desk and cut and staple and color and stamp. I would play in the sink all day washing her dishes over and over again. We would roll meatballs in the kitchen and throw them back and forth. She always kept a stash of gum in her purse because she knew we would ask for it. We called her Grandma Gum. She was my biggest fan, my biggest complimenter, and my friend. I always knew that whenever I was down I could call her up and she would surely cheer me up. She was loved by everyone. My friends would meet her and instantly want to trade grandmas. She just had a way to make everyone feel comfortable and loved. I could go on for pages and pages about all the reasons she was so important to me.

For her memorial, G made the most beautiful movie of my grandma with pictures of her throughout her life. He spent days and days on this project which meant so much to me. One of the songs he included was I Did It My Way by Frank Sinatra. It was a perfect and most fitting song to portray her life.

The reason I bring this up is that something very strange happened this evening. My family and I went to dinner to remember and honor her. We had gone to the Cheesecake Factory where the average wait time is sixty minutes. To distract Mae, we walked to the courtyard where every weekend they have live bands or DJ’s playing. We had never seen it before, but they had an old time big band playing. As we walked up my sister looked at me and told me to listen closely to the song. It took me a few seconds to figure it out. Can you guess what the song was? None other than I Did It My Way by Frank Sinatra. If that was not a sign that my grandma is still with us, then I don’t know what is.




My grandparents wedding day.





My grandma with my aunt





In Cuba




My grandma and me

Rewind

Often times when I am alone, driving in the car I start thinking about what in my past I would change. Don't get me wrong. I love my life. I am married to the only man I have ever loved and I have this amazing daughter who brightens my life every moment of every day.

But what if I knew what I know now AND I could go back and change some of my decisions?

For one, if I would have known that teaching at the elementary level wasn't for me, I could have actually earned my credential in math rather than multiple subject. It wouldn't have taken me so long to get a job.

Or I could go back and save every penny I ever made instead of spending every cent (and then some) on frivolous things. Then I could buy a house right out of college and I would be sitting pretty right now. I have a friend who actually did this. She bought a house (in California) on her own, no help from a man. Now she is a stay at home mom. She doesn't have to work because of those early decisions in life.

But as I drive in the car, these thoughts scare me. Because what if I really could go back in time? What if I went back too far and changed the course of too many things and it didn't lead me close to where I am today? What if these changes strayed me away from marrying G. I would have missed out on the 12 years of love I share with him. That would mean I would never have Mae. I would never get to experience the awesomeness of my daughter. There would be so many things different in my life. Yes, maybe my life would still be good. Maybe I would still be happy. But life as I know it now would be....different.

So although going back in time may sounds amazing, I am glad that I can't! I am glad that my life is just where it is.

This is what my head is filled with in the fifteen minutes I drive to work. Normal?

Maybe in five years I will look back and instead of wishing the miscarriages never happened. Maybe I will be at a place where I can be at peace with them. Maybe I will have another child who I would never have known if they didn't happen. Maybe instead of going back in time, I want to go forward. Is there another child in my future? If I knew the answer was yes, my fears would disappear.

Snapshots

Last night was a rough night. Not only did Mae wake up multiple times, I woke up at 3:30am. I woke up abruptly, as if I knew there was something I needed to remember. When I realized what it was, I instantly filled with sadness all over again. My mind keeps replaying snapshots of the past few days: the picture of the ultrasound minus a heartbeat, weeping in my doctors arms, calling my husband to tell him the news, waking from the procedure with an empty belly.....It is like a movie when someone's life flashes before their eyes. But I can't turn this movie off. It is my life.

Luckily I am back to work and I am distracted from my thoughts throughout the day. My students and my work keep me occupied. It's the evenings and the middle of the night when it is most difficult to cope.

I feel like I am barely there for Mae. I am just going through the motions of parenting right now. The weekend was spent with me mostly on the couch. Nothing fun planned for her. I felt like a terrible mom. I have to move on, if not for me, but for her. She deserves my full attention.

My losses are so fresh I know I should not be healed this quickly. My hormones are still raging which doesn't help with weepiness and depression. I know with time it will get easier. I hope! Does it get better? With the last miscarriage, I knew that I would be trying again soon so I had hope on my side. This time, I am scared to start trying right away. Plus, emotionally I feel like I need to give myself time to heal. The fear of another loss is too much to handle right now.

Thank You!!!

Tonight as I checked my e-mail I had not one, but twelve amazing letters of support, understanding, and compassion from people I have never met before. An outpouring of love I so very much needed…a virtual shoulder to lean my head on and cry my heart out. With each and every one I opened, tears flowed down my face. Not because I was reminded of what I am going through, but because I finally feel that I am not alone. There are people out there not afraid to confront me and acknowledge my loss.

Thank you ALL so much for all your kind words and the time it took to write to me. It has helped more than I can describe. And thank you so much Beth from I Should Be Folding Laundry for reading my blog and then sending so many wonderful people there to read it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am off to cry a river, but feel much better knowing there are people out there praying for me.

Another Pregnancy Lost

Here I am, once again. Another pregnancy lost. In just four short months.

The first one occurred in May. I knew something was wrong because I started spotting at 5 weeks. Plus I had very few symptoms of pregnancy. They did an ultrasound and found a sac but said it may be too early to see a heartbeat. But when I went in three weeks later, there was still no heartbeat. No baby.

I was shocked. My first pregnancy was perfect. It was just like all the books described. I just thought that growing babies was easy and I had no doubt that it would happen again. So I was in complete shock with the first miscarriage.

I decided to take the pills to help me abort rather than the D and C. I thought it would fit better into my work schedule. BIG MISTAKE. It was painful and messy. It was most definitely not just a bad period. I Plus, it was a harsh reminder that I was losing a baby. I tried to stay strong in front of others but I was really a mess inside. I would hold friend’s babies and cry, thinking I would never have another child of my own. Of course everyone reassured me that I would hold my baby soon. And I believed them. I really did. I thought it was just a fluke. Lots of women have miscarriages and then go on to have a healthy child.

So I thought the next time I get pregnant, everything will be fine.

So I found myself pregnant again, just two months after my last loss. I know it is fast and I probably should have waited, but I didn’t. I am very impatient and wanted the baby to come at the perfect time. Two months before the end of the school year so I could stay home with the new baby for five whole months. It was going to be perfect! I could not have been happier and could not believe my luck.

Everything seemed to be going well. At four weeks the doctors did a blood test to check my hormone levels. Normal. At six weeks they did an ultrasound and there was a beautiful, strong heartbeat. I felt that we were safe. There was a heartbeat. Everything was going to be fine.

At eight weeks, I had another ultrasound. Heartbeat was still strong and size was perfect, but there was something on the screen that concerned my doctor. There were two black spots on the baby’s head. She said that it could be nothing. The baby is so small that it was hard to diagnose anything. She suggested some genetic testing. I went home that night and was freaked out. Thoughts went through my head of some terrible genetic disorder. I stressed, I cried, but we had house guests so I tried to put it out of my head, at least for the weekend.

That weekend I spotted twice. I was nervous but I had seen the heartbeat, so I was not really concerned about another miscarriage. But after the holiday weekend was over, I started to freak out again so I called the doctor on Tuesday and voiced my concerns. She scheduled me to come in the next day to see a different doctor.

The morning of my appointment, I started to realize that all my pregnancy symptoms had vanished. I didn’t even notice with all the people around me and the good times we were having. But I no longer felt fatigued, no more morning sickness, my breasts were not sore, and the bloating feeling had vanished.

At the appointment I told the doctor all of this. She decided to do a pelvic exam first to see if my cervix had opened. It was fine. Then she did an internal ultrasound. At first the screen was pointed towards me. I knew something was wrong. I did not see any cardiac movement as I had seen before. But the doctor turned the screen towards here, assuring me that she just needed to get a better look. She searched and searched at every angle. But there was nothing. The baby had died. There was no heartbeat. She called another doctor in to confirm, and…..no heartbeat. Another baby lost.

I was so strong I held back my tears in the ultrasound room. I got dressed and went into the consultation room to discuss the next step. D and C. I stayed strong. Teary-eyed, but no tears flowing. I was so proud of myself. I was dying inside, but I remained calm. That was until I saw MY doctor in the office. She must have came on her day off. She came up to me and I just lost it. She hugged me and told me how sorry she was. She even kissed me on the cheek. She is such an amazing doctor and I thank God that I found her.

The D and C went fine. I was even OK on that day. No crying. I was strong. It wasn’t until the next day when the depression, anger, frustration, and disappointment set in. I feel alone. I feel as though I will never have another baby. I know the next few months are going to be tough. I need time to heal. I have been through it before. But I dread it. It wasn’t easy. And this time around I feel as though people don’t know what to say so they just avoid. I know there is nothing to say that will make me feel better or different, but I feel alone. And no one is calling.

Water Baby in Training

We have a pool in our backyard. When we first moved in, my mom (and I) were terrified that something terrible would happen with Mae at this pool. Ever since the incident at my father-in-laws, I have been especially freaked out about watching her ever single moment we are near any large body of water. So my parents had a safety fence installed around our pool. It has given me peace of mind ever since it was put in. But with summer coming around the corner, I know we will be out at that pool daily. At some point, the door could be left open and Mae could sneak past us into the pool area.

So as of two weeks ago, she has been enrolled in private swim lessons. She goes twice a week for the next six weeks. The first lesson was a huge disaster. She cried.....screamed the WHOLE time. She clung on to the instructor for dear life the entire 15 minutes. At that point, I thought to myself, this is going to be a long month and a half. The second lesson did not go much better. Actually, I think the screaming got worse. This time I had to go and hide behind the corner so her sad, swollen eyes wouldn’t try to search for me on the sidelines.

When it was time for the third lesson, I brought along some reinforcement. Right before I handed her to the instructor, I told her I had a treat for her if she didn’t cry. And by golly it worked! She didn’t cry the whole time. In fact, she actually was laughing and waving to me. There was not one tear shed when she was plunged under water. There was actually huge grins when she emerged. The first thing she asked for when she got out of the water is, “Can I have my treat?” The little bugger has a great memory!

It has been 3 scream free lessons now. She seems to enjoy it and I think it is just about the best thing I have done for her. She is having fun, while learning some life saving skills. Of course, this amazing child of mine will NEVER be by that pool without both my eyes being on her!

No Mama, No!

So yesterday started off as horrible as I thought it would. I couldn’t sleep all night, dreading my return to work and my leaving Mae. I got her up a little early so we could have some cuddle time if in front of Noggin before work. As soon as we pulled in to her preschool, she started crying and saying, “no mama, no!” This is the first time she has ever cried when going to school. Usually she is excited to get there and sit like a grownup at the breakfast table with all the other toddlers. So today was AWEFUL! I cried all the way to work.

I worried about her all day, but when I went to pick her up the teachers said she did wonderfully and didn’t cry at all. Usually, though, she puts up a fight when it is time to go home. I have to follow her around the playground while she shows off all the cool things she gets to do there. But this time she hugged all her friends, said goodbye, and was out the door in two minutes.

I struggle every day with the guilt I have about going to work and not being home with Mae. My mom was able to stay home with me and I always imagined that I would be able to do the same. But financially, we would struggle tremendously. The first six months of Mae’s life I was able to stay home. It was definitely bitter sweet. I adored being with her, but I was guilt ridden over my husband’s job being the only income. I guess no matter what, the situation will never be perfect.

Don't Make Me Go!

The past few days I have been filled with absolute anxiety. As soon as I woke up on Thursday, butterflies fluttered in my stomach, reminding me I have to return to work on Monday. Why was Thursday filled with such apprehension? I still had four days until I returned to teaching my continuation school students. But Thursday is only one day from Friday, and weekends don’t count! I am not sure why, but Friday seemed like the true last day of my vacation. Maybe it was because G would be home and I would no longer be able to pretend I was a SAHM. Gosh, how I truly wish I was. I envoy those of you that get to stay home.

I didn’t always feel this way. About three months ago I was as happy as a clam. I loved my job. I worked for a County school teaching Independent Study students. I met with students one-on-one and twice a week held an Algebra workshop with 25 students. It was my DREAM job. I loved going to work. Mae was attending an in-home daycare I actually loved! Everyday I worked from 7:15am to 2:00pm. I would be able to spend the whole rest of the afternoon with Mae. It was the perfect situation. But in Southern California, school’s enrollment is down and I lost my job. Luckily, I applied and was hired in another district teaching Algebra at a continuation high school.

It truly is the perfect job….in most ways. I just hope I get used to the changes and challenges of this new situation soon.

Tomorrow is going to be a tough day. I am sure there will be tears shed when I drop Mae off at school. And I am most certainly sure they will solely be mine. AHHHH!!!! Anyone our there have some magical solution for me so that I can stay home? Let me know!

No Love For Mommy

Why is it that whenever Mom needs to change a diaper, there is much screaming, squirming, running away, and flailing arms?

But when Daddy does it, Mae lays there as quiet as can be. Then when the deed is done, he gets a great big hug and a smooch.

I get no love!

Grandma

So my plan to start a healthy life has not been going well. Since Wednesday, the day I wrote about turning it all around, I have done nothing but eat.

But I am about to make a huge excuse for my BAD behavior. I tend to turn to food and vegetation when I am sad or going through a tough time in my life. It is a family trait. We eat to help mask our problems. For some awful reason, food truly makes me feel better….in the moment. Afterward I am a guilty, blubbering mess. But in the moment, man food is so GOOD!

So here is the reason I have turned to food once again. My grandma is sick. We found out about two months ago that she has lung cancer. At first we thought everything was going to be fine. She was going to take this magic pill that would help the cancer and she would get better. But it hasn’t worked out that way.

Although she is 91 she has always been as sharp as a tack. Her whole life she has exercised and been in great shape and she could definitely hold her end of a conversation. She has even been driving a car…at 91! But in the past couple of weeks her mind has been all jumbled and confused.

My parents brought her home to stay with them since we all believed she was incapable of taking care of herself anymore. Well, that just made her more confused and quite frankly, pissed off. I think she thought she was in a hostage situation. The moment she was near a phone she tried to call her house. Well, she couldn’t remember the number so my sister dialed it for her. We knew no one was home to answer the phone but we were curious to see who she was trying to get a hold of. As soon as her answering machine picked up she proceeded to say into the receiver, “Come get me. I want to go home.” When we asked her who she was talking to, she had no clue. All she knew was that she wanted to go home.

This is such a difficult thing for me to witness. I have been incredibly close to my grandma all my life. I could tell you a million stories to convince you of how wonderful she is, but my words would not do her justice. I love her with all my heart and it is a terribly time for the whole family.

So my diet may have to be put on hold for a little while and many trips to the bakery may occur. My 20 lb goal may turn to 30 in the next couple of weeks.

She's Got Talent

This afternoon Gar and Mae sat on the coffee table stacking her fake condiment bottles. At first Gar was doing the stacking and she was doing the knocking down. But then all of a sudden she started piling them up one by one and by golly she got them to stay in place...for a few seconds before they fell. What talent?

Mother of the Year?

I let her stand too close to the tv
(I hope she doesn't go cross-eyed)

She eats cupcakes even though she hardly ate any dinner!

And I am teaching her to gamble.....with her toes!



I may not be winning Mother of the Year, but she seems pretty darn happy.

Could It Be That Time Already...Terribe Twos

Over the weekend I thought for sure Mae had reached her terrible two’s three months early. She threw about 100 tantrums on Saturday. The worst part of it all was that we were at a party for my work in Fallbrook. All my coworkers and their significant others were there.

Now Mae is a pretty independent child who loves a crowd and entertainment. Well, at the party she wanted to do what she wanted, go where she wanted, and eat what she wanted. If Gar (my husband) or I messed with her program, she felt the need to scream like a banshee and throw herself on the ground. You can imagine my embarrassment when everyone was looking at my child throwing a tantrum every two seconds.

And we were literally trapped at this party. We were the first ones there and EVERYONE parked behind us. So if we wanted to leave we would have to round up about 10 car owners and have them move down the drive. So we did not get to leave until after dinner, which was not until 9pm. And by the way, who eats at 8:30 at night. I will tell you who…..people who do NOT have small children.

Back to the point of my story. I thought we hit the terrible two’s. But the past two nights Mae has been an angel, back to her old self. Giggly, cuddly, and FUN! Thank goodness. Maybe she was just having an off day. We are all entitled to that.

Plus Fallbrook was about a hundred degrees with NO shade, there were bees flying around everywhere, and Mom and Dad were messing with her program (mostly so she didn’t fall down the very steep cliff in the backyard…definitely not a kid friendly house!)

Man is it F*#%^^%ing hot out here in BFE!

It has been almost 21 months since I had Mae. And the last 20 pregnancy pounds have stubbornly remained. I know it is my fault that they have not melted off. I blame it on the ice cream, second helpings of every meal, and the sedentary lifestyle I have adopted. I could attribute these bad habits to having a 21 month old or working full time, but I truly know that I am solely at fault. There is plenty of time for a walk outdoors and cooking healthy foods instead of fast food.

Starting this minute, I am going to try and embrace a new me. A me who eats fresh fruits and vegetables and exercises. I don’t want to do it just for me and for various vanity reasons. I want to do it for Mae. I want her to have a mother she is proud of: one that shows her a shining example of how a healthy person should be.

Now the problem lies is the fact that every time I decide to get healthy, I never stick with it. It is a running joke with my sister and I that each Monday I start off great and by Wednesday I fall off the wagon. Now she is an example to all dieters. She has been following the Lindora food plan and she has lost a bunch of weight. She looks and feels great.

How am I going to get motivated? The reason for today’s blog is to hold myself accountable. I know there is possibly no readers out there, yet, but if by chance there is or will be, maybe this knowledge will keep me going on my task to lose 20 pounds.

One of my favorite quotes from a movie is, “every minute is a new chance to turn it all around.” Does anyone know what movie it is from? Anyway, I am going to try and run this advice through my head each time a sweet craving or fast food craving consumes me.

I will be reporting on my progress as much as I can. I promise to let you know the minute I give up…..because it is inevitable. Wait, wait wait! I can't be negative. I will SUCCEED!!

August 20, 2007-----133 pounds

Goal weight: 110

We're Moving!

Right now my husband, Mae and I live in this humble two bedroom townhouse. It is the only home we have all lived in together. Mae was born and four days later she came home to this sweet little place. It is home. All 1230 square feet of it. It is cozy and homey and everyone loves to hang out here because of these characterisitcs. But it is just too small. We eventually want to have another baby and there is no way we could squeeze all of Mae's toys and the new baby's things in this place. So it is time to move. (Not that we are planning another baby any time soon)

We have this amazing opportunity to buy my husband's childhood home. It sounds weird that we will be raising our children in the house he grew up in. But this house holds so many amazing memories. I fell madly in love with my husband there. All my young memories of the two of us take place at this house.

If all works out, we should be in by late September or early October. I can't help but be excited. My mind is constantly wandering to thoughts of this house; how will we decorate it to make it our own, how cool it will be to be down the street from my parents and sister, the parties that we will have, etc. Even though I am so thrilled I can't help but be a bit nervous. Until the day we turn the key and open the door, I will be a wreck thinking it is going to fall through. Cross your fingers for us.

PS-Someone told me moving is one of the top three most stressful events in your life. What am I in for?

Swap Meet, Never Again

Today my parents and I took Mae to the swap meet. I have been wanting to redecorate Mae’s room in Hawaiian surf theme and I heard they had some vendors who sold bedding and wall décor for a great price. Perfect, I thought. We could walk around leisurely; find the things I needed, maybe have a sinful Churro, and head home happy as a clam.

But Mae, AKA Cranky Pants, had a completely different idea of how the day should go. She did NOT want to sit in her stroller, she did not want to shop, and she did not even want an ice cream cone. She decided she would cry up and down all the aisles while all the other parents with their perfectly behaved children walked by and scoffed at the mother with the out-of-control kid. How embarrassing!

My poor parents tried everything to make her happy. They bought her an ice cream cone. My mom tried to hold her, but she wanted her freedom to run as she pleased. Finally, my dad bought her a kid sized baby stroller so she could walk next to us. That seemed to do the trick. Although, I think the other shoppers were quite annoyed when she recklessly ran into their ankles. Hey, but she was happy…..and quiet. For a while….until we made her get back in her own stroller.

The day ended in much disappointment. The only thing we ended up buying were a couple of hair bows, a baby stroller, and three ice cream cones. I did find some cute Hawaiian decorations but they weren’t cheap. Nothing was cheap. Even cheesy sundresses were like $34. I thought you could buy like a Jacuzzi for a dollar at the swap meet. What a bust. Next time, Mae stays home with Daddy, and I go for a Margarita…NO MORE SWAP MEETS!

Karma

Karma. So I am NOT completely sure I believe in it, but I am fully scared of NOT following the rules of it. I fear that if I am mean to someone, then at some point I will be on the receiving end of meanness, etc. At times my actions are based on karma.

An incident came up tonight, which others before me have mentioned(Kristen). I was shopping at Target with Mae in her stroller (because the carts are just way too disgusting). I packed the stroller basket to the top and ran out of room. So I put a couple of items under the sun shade. When I got up to the counter I emptied the entire stroller basket, paid for the load, and walked out to my car. As I reached the car door, I realized I forgot to remove the items from under the shade.

At first, I shrugged it off and began transferring the purchased items into the backseat. I was going to load Mae into the car and drive home a thief. I mean, really the items that were stolen were merely two plug-in air fresheners that were on the sale rack. Together they were probably a total of $4. Would Target really go out of business? No, of course not. But then, that word karma flashed through my thoughts. What if I stole two measly air fresheners, yet when karma came back to bite me in the butt it was 100 times worse.

So what did I do? Did I get in my car and drive home with a guilty conscience? No! I am such a chicken shit. I walked back into the store, pretended I forgot a few items, and paid for the air fresheners.

Damn karma!

Tainted

Today was my husband’s BBQ birthday party. It was (emphasis on WAS) the perfect day. We were surrounded by friends, good food, and great music. But it will forever be tainted for me. It will always be the day that Mae fell in the pool.

She was sitting on the step of the jacuzzi and I was sitting there watching her while chatting with a friend. I turned my head for just a moment and when I turned back, there she was on her stomach, flailing. I pulled her out as quickly as possible. Of course she cried and I was strong and told her it was scary but she was just fine. And she was. In just a minute she was her old, happy, independent self running around again having fun.

But I am a mess. How could I have turned my head even for just a second? What if I looked away for longer than that? What would have happened? This incident made me even more aware (and absolutely freaked out) of how precious life is. I have been crying ever since. I feel like the worst mom. Any words of advice or similar experiences?

8 Random Things or Habits About Me

I’VE BEEN TAGGED!! I have only been blogging for a week, and I have been tagged. Thank you so much Amanda for making me feel welcome in this new computer world I have entered. So here I go, excitedly answering the 8 random things and or habits about me meme.

1. I eat my pizza in layers, with a fork. First I peel off the cheese and toppings and eat them first. Then I delicately scraped off the top layer of the bread and enjoy. Lastly, I eat the bottom layer of the bread and the crust. It’s the only way I can eat pizza. What fun it is see the look on people’s faces when they watch a grown woman “play” with her food. This crazy way of eating is not limited to pizza. You should see what I do a Kit Kat Bar.
2. When I was in high school and for some time after, I worked at Disneyland as a parade performer. My first parade I was in was the Main Street Electrical Parade. I also performed in the Christmas, Lion King, and Hercules Parades.
3. I love MTV reality shows. I know, I know…..I am terrible. My two favorites are Laguna Beach and the Hills, which I have seen every episode of every season. So sad! My husband wishes he could cancel MTV without getting rid of his favorite channels.
4. I have this horrible habit of picking my lips. Sometimes I use my fingers but most of the time I use my teeth. My mom yells at me all the time to “STOP” or I am going to get cancer. I am not sure if she has any factual evidence that this will happen or if she is just trying to scare me into not doing it all. But this tactic has not worked. My husband took over the “STOP” job when we got married and he has been unsuccessful in halting this behavior. I don’t even realize I am doing it until I am yelled at. Man, I am doing it right now. I think it helps me think.
5. One of my biggest pet peeves is lateness. I hate being late. I am never late. If I am late then something is terribly wrong. The worst thing of it all is that I come from a family of LATES and so does my husband. I am constantly annoyed because everyone I know is late. Among the top LATES in our family is my sister and my husbands oldest sister. Yeah, yeah they both have a lot of kids (my sister has 3 and his has 6) but come on, people! Stop being late!!!!
6. I daydream every second about owning a bigger house. I want one back in the city where I grew up with a big yard and a swimming pool. I would have a BBQ every weekend and bake yummy delicious treats (if you can call rice krispiy treats baking). But I live in CA where a million dollar house is considered cheap. So for now I am going to have to be content with my modest townhouse and continue throwing BBQ’s at my father-in-law house (while he is away, hehe!)
7. Dirty dishes in the sink drive me crazy. As soon as dinner is over, everything must be washed and put directly in the sink or I will LITERALLY GO NUTS! Sometimes my husband will offer to do the dishes……in a few minutes. But NO!! It must be done RIGHT AWAY! I will not rest until the dishes are clean.
8. Wow, really? 8 random things? I am not sure I am able to come up with one more. Hmm. Ok, here is one that’s not so interesting. My favorite movie is the Pirate Movie. I used to watch it at least once a day in high school. Now it is more like once a year (which happens to be today). The two major stars in it are Kristy McNichol and Christopher Atkins. Such a cheesey movie yet I love it. I love the mushy love songs the hilarious dialog. Classic!

Since I have only been blogging a week, I am not sure I have earned the right to tag anyone. But if there are any new bloggers out there, I would love to learn 8 random things and or habits about you.

Beach Day! Fun?

I am one of the lucky ones to grow up in Southern California, just a few miles from the beach. When I was a kid, the beach was my favorite place to be. My cousins and I would body surf and boogie board all day long, only returning to our towels on the sand to eat lunch. Then it was straight back into the water until our parents forced us out. Some of my greatest memories are those from the summer beach days with family and friends.

So of course, I wanted to share my love of the beach and the ocean with my daughter. I dreamt of building sandcastles, screaming gleefully together as the icy waves crashed against our legs, and digging for sand crabs as the waves retreated back to the sea. I looked forward to her smiling face and glowing eyes I would capture on film and be able to enjoy forever.

But this is all I got………

I only got one good photo of Mae smiling! And she was on my lap....not touching the sand!!

On Sunday, my family headed to the beach for a family fun day. Mae was less than thrilled!! As soon as her chubby little toes touched the sand, a piercing scream escaped her lips. She cannot stand the sand touching and clinging to her feet and hands. She spent the whole day on a blanket with a grimace on her face.

On the way home, I wondered to myself how I could possible be raising such a prissy, beach HATER. Then I got to thinking. Lugging all the beach necessities to our spot on the sand and back with a screaming child was SO not fun! While driving, I tried my hardest not to move my toes because they felt dirty, dry, and sandy. Then I tried to run my fingers through my hair and realized it was tangled and salty, EWWW!! In this moment it hit me. I really DO NOT like the beach! I am raising a daughter who dislikes the beach because I HATE the beach….and I hate to feel dirty and sandy! What has happened to the frolicking kid inside me? It has been lost, and I fear it is lost forever. I am sorry Mae for being this seaside loathing role model.