eatthefrostingfirst

I credit Whitney Houston for today's blog title. I cant get the song out of my head. Maybe because it holds true to my personality. I admit I'm a sap. I cry easily. Put on a James Taylor tune and you can expect me to shed a few tears. Lifetime movies and almost all Nicholas Sparks books. All end up the same... I just re watched our wedding video with my two boys sitting next to me. Youngest wanted to know why Mommy was crying. I wasn't sure if he was referring to the image of Mommy on the video or the Mommy right next to him. Didn't matter really because it was the same result. So when I recently made a video for our annual March for Babies fundraising plea, I found myself crying at the images on the screen. Even though I was the one who created it, I still found myself bawling at my desk. I watch the movie and often think "who's life is this? When did this become MY life?" My husband and I will be celebrating ten years of marriage at the

Went to have one of my final touches put on NB today. It's really amazing that I've watched this boob get created. From a skin flap, to boob, now the nipple. A whole boob..within months thanks to plastic surgery. This wasn't a huge deal today so I drove myself. "You're here alone?" The nurse asks me as I check in. Not sure if she was mortified that I came to the hospital by myself or just wanted to see that she needed to find a place for my pocketbook. "Yes. Alone" Defending my husband, I make sure she knows he is home with the kids not just a husband who could've given two hoots that his wife was at the hospital. They make you arrive two hours prior. For what? 10 minutes of paperwork, time to change and then the rest...waiting. The waiting room is actually entertaining. One family is there with their teenage son who looks like he would rather be in Calculus class. Another couple comes in. Patient reeks of cigarette smoke (after all, ne

Say what you want about Facebook. Sure it's a place where people can play games about farm animals and somehow try to convince you to buy them It's a place where you can reconnect with old friends or choose to ignore them. A place where you learn what your friend in Jr High math class is having for dinner on Thursday night and a place where you can laugh from updates from your crazy friend. It's also, I found, a place for support. Yesterday a freshman at a local high school got hurt during a hockey game. Within hours a Facebook support page was formed and by the end of the day; over 3000 people joined. It's a place to spread the word about donating to Haiti relief funds. It's a place where I told my Facebook friends that my MRI was clean after I worried for the past 48 hours it wouldn't be. I was flooded with good wishes. So say what you want about this social networking tool.... but just don't talk smack about my 337 friends! They are all am

Sitting in the "guest room" with my boys. It's our hangout post-bath and pre-bedtime. Youngest tells me my nails are too tall. Agreed and ask him if he wants to go fine my nail file. Eagerly he goes to find it in the top drawer of my nightstand. As I wait for him to return I think of what I actually have in the top drawer of my nightstand. Old journals that I started for my kids. Tamoxifen, Vitamin D and Ambien (medication of choice) Chapstick Nail File and.... "Mommy, Is this it? Why is my name on it?" Husband and I burst out laughing as my four year old holds up my pregnancy test from 2003. I'm sentimental And apparently a type of hoarder. Guess it's time to clean out the nightstand.

MRI tells me to arrive 45 minutes early. For what I ask? Paperwork? You know they tell you this so that you, the patient, doesn't keep the medical staff waiting. So I arrive with Mom (who insisted on coming with me-turns out, I'm glad she did. Mom's are always right.I need to make sure my boys remember this) 45 minutes early. I fill out 4 pages of paperwork and barely get through 2 pages of my PEOPLE magazine before being called in. Great. They are early! I hand my Mom my pocketbook and leave her reading a book. Expecting to see her in 45 minutes or less. Guy instructs me to follow him as he hands me a robe and scrub bottoms. Change in here. Opening in the front. That's it. No directions on where to go afterwards or even a "feel free to urinate prior to us making you sit in a machine for 40 minutes" I follow my instructions, find my own way to the bathroom and take a seat. Of course they weren't early. They just like you to sit there and wait

1) I love to write. Secretly I'd love to get something published. For now I blog to whoever will read it. 2)Because I love to write, I often ignore my two amazing sons- while blogging. 3) I cannot live without chocolate. Really. I tried. And failed. Why try again? 4) Same goes for Diet Coke 5) And cupcakes 6)I'm a sucker for a good 80's tune 7) and showtunes 8)I never loved math. I still get hives when asked some kind of mathematical question 9) I blame my Father and Brother for this. At the age of 9 they quizzed me at the dinner table about square roots. 10)I love to eat popcorn at the movies 11) I always feel sick after I eat popcorn at the movies 12)Sometimes as I go through my day I think how can I turn this into a blog entry? 13)I waste way too much time on Facebook 14) I refuse to join Twitter 15)I get sceeved when I see my youngest son eat Cottage Cheese. The texture alone grosses me out. 16) I hope to have a second home one day. Chatham Massachusetts. 17) Or Bermud

I'm 6 months post op. Emotionally, I'm doing pretty well. I survived. Have a new boob (and got a lift to boot). I'm dealing with the tamoxifen crap and have learned to add some pink into my wardrobe ( Couldn't BLACK be the color for breast cancer awareness? I look much better in black.) However, I'm still consumed with thoughts. This shouldn't surprise my nearest and dearest. They know me to be a worrier. Why change now? Relax. It's not in my every waking thought. I don't need heavy drugs or anything to get through this (yet I do find a glass of wine never hurt.) Sunday is MRI day. I'm sure once I get through a few of these bi-annual check ups I'll be more at ease but for now; anxiety sets in. They called me today to go through the check list. Diabetes? No High Blood Pressure? No Any metal devices? No Claustrophobic? No Implants? No..wait, What? Implants? Ahh, yes, yes, implants. Left Breast. Post mastectomy. Any cancer? A

Had to run to CVS to get a new bottle of hairspray. I forgot the whole security thing and packed my 8oz bottle on my carry on. Security stopped and searched my bag. They pulled out tampons, hairbrush, book and last..the hairspray. Sorry, they tell me, 3oz rule and all. Clearly there were worse offenders then me and my Clairol Herbal Essence getting through but I complied without incident. It was my own fault and was happy that they were checking things closely in San Juan. My youngest screamed for over 15 minutes at me this morning because I didn't write the number two the correct way. Kid is 4 and criticizing my penmanship. Calculated I spend $320/month alone on Oldest's therapy copays. I'm thankful for BCBS and all but depresses me that I need to do this. Day two of Tamoxifen. Feeling like I'm in a fog shortly after I take it. And am tired. I blame it on the meds but could just be the life of a Mother. Was it only 3 days ago that I was on vacation? My manicur

I should have known I was jinxed when I checked the weather report days prior to leaving. Scattered rain. Mostly cloudy. I checked numerous other websites, sure to find one that would read "sunny, high 80's" I prayed the meteorologists were wrong. They were known to be occasionally, weren't they? We left Friday AM. Minutes after take off, Pilot USAIR says to us "It's raining in San Juan today. Not a great day. Actually they haven't had great weather this week. Sit back and enjoy the flight". I sit and complain to my husband who tries to remain optimistic for me. A week of bad weather, it's bound to take a turn. We fly first class thanks to thousands of USAIR miles we've accumulated. Which actually is very funny considering we dont travel a lot. First class is great. Big comphy seats. Warm washcloths that smell like lemons prior to being served a meal. Endless of drinks- free of charge. And there..back in coach. The deprived. They ha

I was in elementary school when I met my first "bully". JL used to push me onto the grass as I walked home from school. I used to come home crying to my mother until she approached his mother and then it stopped. JL also taught me my first curse word and got me punished. JL was a creep. I met other "bullies" in school. They pretended to be my friends one minute and then mean to me the next. Girls are cruel at that age. Apparently boys can be too. In the past year since my oldest entered elementary school age I've heard stories of Kindergarten boys being teased on the bus, being made fun of what they eat at snack time and what they choose to play with at "free choice" time. I've heard them make fun of the way kids talk and the way kids run. I remember the heartache I felt when my, so called friends invited me over only to be mean to me when I was there. This comes back to me clearly as I hear about things going on in my own child's sch

I was thinking about how much I learned from summer camp. Overnight camp to be exact. It's a fraternity that is so hard to explain to people who never went. It's a bond that connects us. I learned... How to shave my legs, insert a tampon and when it became time to use deoderant. How to make hospital corners, clean a toilet, and use a dustpan. What the terms "kaka swim", "pink eye" and "fratenization" meant. How to paddle (and capsize) a canoe, do the dead man's float, and dance a proper "horah". I learned how to tie dye a shirt, make a bracelet from gimp and how to serve a volleyball. How to grease a watermelon, make a smore, eat grilled cheese sandwiches with ketchup. I learned how to flirt, interact with the opposite sex and feel self confident. How to make friends with people I may normally not be friends with during the "school year", how to sleep in a room with 15 other girls (some who snore, talk in their s

WHAT IS A MOTHER? A mother is a combination of: caretaker, nurturer, homemaker, cleaner, peacemaker, judge, cheerleader, chef, storyteller, maid, coach, bus driver, nurse, entertainer, and the one person who always tries to make things better. Skills include: multi tasking Pros: Hugs and snuggles, watching them mature, grow and learn, seeing myself and my husband in each of my children, knowing there are no other two boys in this world who can give me headaches and high blood pressure in the same instant yet my heart always aches with pure love. Cons: Pros outweigh them by a mile

I'm not getting the facebook updates that are reading: "I'm so sad vacation is over" "Back to reality. UGH" "Can't vacation last another 2 weeks?" Seriously people? I'm not feeling that kind of emotion over here. In our house.. we're getting jiggy with it. My 8 day migraine suddenly has disappeared. My anxiety level..decreased. Shouting..down to a bare minimum (okay, moderate) But here in the Stern household there is just no sadness being felt. Even the boys are excited to go back. Structure? Hell yea! My kids thrive on routine. Not to mention they adore going to school. Let's remember also what Monday is. LUNCH BUNCH DAY! That's right! Youngest goes to school until 1:30. Did I mention that he now can go twice a week to lunch bunch? Monday and Tuesday! Can you feel the excitement? It's been a crappy few days and I dont use that term loosely. We are back to the drawing board. Back to the land of pull ups,

Dear God Please make school start tomorrow. I realize it's only Saturday but I've had a migraine now for almost a week (no kidding) and I cant help but think this may be kid related. We will see come Monday. In the meantime, its 9AM on Saturday and I'm listening to my youngest child tell my husband that he is naughty because he told him he cant leave the house unless he poops. So much for success at IKEA. He then threw his leapster across the room after husband told him clearly not to and he would lose it for a week if he did. BAM. Thrown. Oldest sits quietly; knowing better than to speak at moments like this. Youngest is up in his room crying hysterically. Did I mention my migraine? Day 8? I've gained 2 lbs in the past 2 days so clearly headache has not effected my appetite. DAMNED. (Can I say damned when asking God for help?) It's snowing. Which only reminds me how much I hate winter in spite of it looking beautiful out my window. New Years Eve was so muc