eatthefrostingfirst

It's almost that time again. Six months are passing me by Time to recheck the boobs. Or boob- as the case may be. My mammogram isn't until July but I'm already getting panic stricken. I'm getting these twinge like feelings in HB (healthy boob) which is what happened to me pre-cancer. Twinges. I was convinced I had Breast Cancer. And I was right. Granted I've been known to over react. I get migraines and tell dear husband I'm dying of an aneurysm. I know I'm not. But twinges... just gave me a feeling. Do I think I have breast cancer in HB? No. But I panic anyways. Because that's what I do best. And I have reason to panic. Sitting here reading a blog of a guy who wrote a book called The Council of Dads hasn't helped my panic mood much. This is a husband of someone I went to HS with who just battled Osteosarcoma (bone cancer) He blogs about his battle and the book; from what I have gathered, is about a group of men he asked to help with his children- be

Mommy's conversation with youngest "Are you so excited to be going into Kindergarten in September?" "Yes; but Mommy, I dont know what math is" "Math is doing stuff with numbers. Like when you add things or take them away" "Like if I have balls and then add a ball?" "Right. So if you have 4 balls and we take one away, how many are left? "Three balls" "Great job honey. That's right!" "Mommy. I know Math!!"

Why is it that I think that the next time I eat McDonalds I WONT feel sick afterwards? Got french fries for lunch~ no sandwich. After all, I'm dieting. So how many calories can an order of French Fries be? Don't ask. And even just the fries make you feel sick. I officially ban McDonalds from passing through these lips again. Seriously, what was I thinking? This is what I get for letting youngest eat there. I'm never going to lose my remaining 5lbs if I keep this up. Not to be tangential but.. Why do I need to put my dryer on for two cycles no matter how much laundry I have in there? 10 days till Disney. Have managed to still keep it a secret from the boys yet I'm so anal that it's making my skin itch that I can't start packing. But I have my lists made. Of course. You're lucky you only read this blog. Poor Dear Husband is going to have to listen to me complain all day about aforementioned McD disaster.

I'm attending Kindergarten Parent Night next week. Not for my current Kindergartner but for my future one. Youngest enters K in the Fall. Oldest goes into First Grade. I'm really finding it hard to believe that in a few short months I will have two children in Elementary School. It's true when they tell you "The days are long but the years are short" Yes. My days are long. I spend them driving youngest to preschool, coming home to shower and spend my remaining free hour doing things like laundry, trips to the market, cleaners, CVS or random medical appointment. I then rush to pick youngest up from preschool, feed him, entertain him (because lets remember youngest isn't my independent play child), attempt to still get him in for a nap (time is running out. He asks me daily when he can stop napping and I told him when he is five. 3 more months until I need to entertain for longer than 2 hours), await for oldest to get dropped off by the bus, spend 20 minutes coe

Jeremy's preschool teacher passed away last week. She was also Jared's teacher. And a teacher to hundreds of other children over the past 13 years who are all the better now for knowing her. Kathy had Cancer. For many years. I cannot remember how it started (although she had told me) but it metastasized. She was in and out of remission for a long time. Last summer I had a mastectomy. When I saw Kathy a few weeks later she greeted me with a huge hug. "How are you?" She asked me. So sincerely. We discussed Cancer. We discussed my boys and how they were handling things. We discussed motherhood. Kathy was probably 90 lbs soaking wet yet she was a woman filled with bounds of energy. And life. When I was waiving weather to send Jared to Kindergarten or to continue at the preschool; she was the one who told me "he's ready" "He will be fine" I went to her wake last week. My first wake actually (and was thankful it wasnt open casket) There lined up was

Youngest is walking around the house with a crown on his head; calling himself "King Jeremy" and speaking in third person. Oldest is cracking up until the King started bossing him around. 3 weeks until our first Disney trip. The boys still dont know and vacation could not have come at a better time for me. Too bad I get sick on the merry go round. Day 3 of school vacation week. Or as my friend views it, only two more days to go. Having a yard sale Saturday AM to rid half of my basement. How does one accumulate so much junk? Grandma bought the kids an early birthday gift. The WII. Great entertainment and was hoping it would entertain the kids for hours. Youngest of course needs constant attention and demands that I sit with him and watch him play. What's the purpose of putting your child in front of video games if you cant leave the room?

I haven't seen my boys practically all week due to sitting shiva at my Mom's house. The week seemed like a blur; each day rolling into the next. I missed the kids and was ready for my routine to begin once again. Until it actually begun. After cramming in lost family time at the Museum of Science I, soon thereafter, started losing patience. You know the drill- youngest refusing to poop; oldest taking 45 minutes to eat 1/2 a bowl of pasta. Okay, lets try to look at the positives. I admit I'm a glass half empty kind of girl so lets try to see the good side of things. Youngest not pooping in a toilet and almost five years old. Okay- at least he pees in a toilet. Small bright side. Oldest eating like a snail. At least he is (semi) now eating. Yea, doesn't give me much consolation I gotta tell you. I realize my patience fuse is shorter than usual these days. Dear Husband said they were really well behaved in my "absence" this week. Not shocking. They are always bet

If we're being honest.. I've had a really crappy 12 months. Breast Cancer and the loss of my Dad all under a year. It's no wonder Ativan and Ambien have become my two new bff's. I also missed my brother in laws wedding this wkend I sat in my house Saturday night; alone. Dear husband was at the wedding and I was uncontrollably sobbing. Over the loss of my dad, over the fact that I was missing the wedding. Over my emotional difficult year. Life has dealt me some really tough cards but I try to live how my Dad taught me to live. He was a big believer in fate and that everything happens for a reason. I try to believe that. I really do. Yet I'm not sure why I'm getting smacked upon. Zachary is now buried in the same memorial park as my Dad. I find comfort in that. Funeral was yesterday and we are sitting shiva all week. I'm on auto pilot and am pretty sure none of this has sunk in yet. After all, I was just talking to my Dad the other day. How can he be gone? I

My dad loved to tell stories. He was a kibbitzer. He would talk to friends and family about his days in the navy, his business, his family Stories were not saved for just people he knew. On the contrary. When traveling he would talk to the taxi drivers about the local weather and discuss with them the best way to get to his destination. He would kid waiters in restaurants about the correct pronunciation of scallops or scollops. When talking to nurses in the hospital, he would always ask where they were from. My dad loved people. He spent 60 yrs building his fathers business into a successful company called Chelsea Bottle Company. It was there where he would spend his days talking with customers and suppliers. He loved what he did and my Dad met so many dear friends through his work. I would joke with him that if his customers asked to see pictures of his loved ones, that he would pull out his wallet and there, would be a picture of his Mercedes. He loved his car. Im not sure what sadde

I am a communicator by nature. I have the need to express myself. I find it cathartic. But today, on this gray dreary morning, I find myself staring at a blank computer screen, fingers in the curled position- ready to type- but unable to move. It sums up my last 48 hours. Somehow going through the motions But not feeling myself moving. I have lost my Father. Physically anyways. He passed away Wednesday night, an hour after I kissed him goodbye, said I loved him and would talk to him tomorrow. My dad had been sick for quite some time. He had heart surgery four years ago and really never bounced back. His doctor had forewarned us that the end was near. My Dad wanted to come home. My Mom lined up hospice and it was decided he would come home Wednesday AM. The oxygen tank and hospital bed were delivered. Nurses and aides were lined up so that my mother could have some support and relief. My brother flew in to visit him. His last day on Earth was spent with his family. In his home. I have g

I'm so tired of Kate Gosselin being a top headline in the news. I have no patience for snobbish people who think they are better than everyone else I have a migraine that wont quit- literally I'm sure it is stress related I am the queen of multi tasking if I do say so myself I think I'm going to take up gardening, I hear it's therapeutic I'm breaking out with acne bringing memories back to my propa PH and noxema days The smell of Noxema brings back summer I wish my life was as easy as it was when I was 10 My father is dying...for someone who expresses herself somewhat easily through the written word, I dont know how to begin to write about this