The Butterfly and the Bear

Why Are You STILL Single?

In the last few weeks I have been asked repeatedly, "Why are you still single?".  A question which all at once makes me uncomfortable, defensive, renders me speechless and to which I don’t really have a simple answer to.  Lord knows I have repeatedly asked that very same question of myself.  They usually follow up with one of two responses to my stammering and blank stare, “Well , are you putting yourself out there?  Like really looking, it’s a job you know!”  or they hit me with, “You’ll find him when you’re not looking.”  Soooo, you’re telling me it’s like a job that I shouldn’t look for?  Oh, I get it, it’s like winning at slots or roulette!  Right?!!

I guess I should take comfort in the fact that people are surprised I'm single.  Not asking would imply that they know EXACTLY why I am alone and that they have simply decided I am the real life version of the "Cathy" cartoon and eventually I will die alone leaving my 200 cats to fend for themselves.  And it certainly is better than when they tell me why they think I’m single (please, don’t tell me why, I know my shortcomings, I don’t need to hear them said out loud.)  I do know that I am not proficient at the whole “dating/bar scene".  Which is odd given that I genuinely enjoy all of the components that make up a good bar scene: alcohol, music, socializing, and men, all on my list of “likes”!  So it would seem to follow that I would enjoy the “singles” scene.  However, there is an element to it that I greet with a level of derision.  The whole forced banter, the subtle dance of duplicity, showing who you are, but not entirely, projecting who you want them to think you are, playing it cool, and don't even get me started on flirting.   I just find all the stratagem and maneuvering a little exhausting and dare I say boring.  Which I'm sure I project out to everyone and therefore come off a little acerbic and disdainful, and correct me if I’m wrong but I don’t think many men are looking for a nice “acerbic and slightly disdainful” young woman.  That’s not to say I don’t have fun, I do, when the conversation is good, when the banter unfolds naturally, when there is a sense of ease and playfulness, I love it.  The scenarios where that happens are rare and few and far between.  More often than not I am left after a night out feeling like everyone else got a rule book and is playing a game that not only do I not fully understand the rules, I kind of don’t want to.  I remember particularly when I was in my late teens and early twenties seeing the complex and strategically thought out maneuverings of girls my age as they set out to ensnare a guy and not only did I find it exhausting, I found it downright  deceitful in some cases.  Like my dear old friend  I earlier referenced in a previous post, she was a master manipulator, in life and in love.  She would go to great lengths to get every man to fall for her.  Why?  Well why not?  I would always ask her, “why ALL of them?”.  For me it was always just the One I wanted, the one who at the time I had a crush on, the one who I had projected all of my Bronte sister and Jane Austen yearnings on, the rest I didn'tt care about, I just wanted the one, I valued quality over quantity.  Maybe I was wrong?  Because she set out to get them all and unbeknownst to me at the time apparently dating and love are not that different from say an open house or a street performance, a crowd draws even more of a crowd, hence, men beget more men, and soon you have your pick o’ the litter.  Age apparently has not made me wiser however, despite knowing this, despite the fact that even though I never felt as if I got “the manual”  I have observed enough to know how the game is played, what it takes, and yet in spite of my desire to meet a wonderful man, to one day settle down, have a family, I simply can’t bring myself to play the “game” as it were. 

I was lucky enough to spend last weekend with some friends from college and their spouses out in PA, we had a fabulous time and as is often the case when we are with people who we’ve known forever, with whom we have a shared history,  old jokes, stories and memories, we all settled into our comfortable roles, truly relaxed in ourselves, laughing, talking and enjoying each others company.  Around 1:00 am after several (okay, 12) hours of drinking we were all laughing so hard we were crying, somehow the night had slipped into silliness.  After pouring my friends husband an apparently too stiff vodka and soda which made his hair stand up on end (an Irishman nonetheless!) our other friend commented in reference to my ability to mix a robust drink, “My Father-in-law would like you” which somehow evolved into an hour long conversation of what would happen if I were indeed to marry her Father-in-law.  It was a hilarious (from what I can remember) circuitous, sometimes irreverent and nonsensical conversation with us all chiming in and imagining how a relationship between Mandy (their sometimes wildly inappropriate college friend in her 30’s) and Pop-Pop (the 63 year old gent, grandfather, and Father to my friends husband) would evolve and unfold.  In a nutshell it was unanimously decided over a toast at 2:00am on July 30th, 2011 that myself and Pop-Pop are getting married in Saratoga NY, July 2012! (So, save the date folks!!) 

All joking aside sometimes I feel like I would do better with a “Pop-Pop” than say the 30-something who is still trying out his pick-up artist moves on a Thursday night in Fairfield county, or the divorced Father of 3 in his mid-forties I met on Match.com who after two weeks of lengthy, fun and interesting emails, the day before our first date, sent me a text message that read like it was a telegram smuggled out from behind enemy lines: “In Russia.  On Business.  Have to reschedule.”  Uhm, ok.  Or the guy who I had a rather mundane first date with, however, I told myself despite the fact that he was quiet and perhaps a bit shy was in fact sweet, gentlemanly and I should just give another chance.  So I gamely agreed to date number two.  A few days before our second date he sends me a casual email recapping his day and where we should meet for dinner which somehow, and inexplicably segues into his “turn-on’s” (No! Just no with that phrase.) and the type of foreplay he enjoys, and then for the kicker he invoked the ghost of John Mayer and says a woman’s body is “a wonderland to be explored and savored.”  NO!  True story folks. (are you marrieds breathing a huge sigh of relief right now that you will never, ever get an email containing the words “foreplay” and “turn-ons”?)  I had to cancel the date and in addition to that wrestled with the moral dilemma of do I email him and enlighten him of the fact that a guy should never, ever, under any circumstances type the words: "foreplay", "turn-ons", and "savor" in an email.  I agonized over the fact that surely if I didn’t set him straight he too would die alone leaving 200 cats to fend for themselves.  Alas, I decided it simply was not my burden to bear and anyway, clearly I am no dating expert. (Sorry humane society.)

My sister thinks I may have too much of an edge, too sharp a  tongue.  Which is probably valid considering I’ve admitted to harboring a bit of disdain for the whole bar/pickup scene.  It doesn’t help that I seem to have impulse control issues and can't suppress whatever pops into my head at any given time.  I mean, am I to understand that when a guy chatting you up asks you to watch his backpack while he goes out for a smoke the “sexy” or “cute” response isn’t, “No problem Dora.”? Sooo, grown men don’t like being compared to a little spanish speaking cartoon girl?  Good to know.  Lesson learned folks!  Clearly I still haven’t figured it out, and who knows if I ever will.  At the very least while I wait to hit it big in the game of love I can rest easy in the knowledge that if all else fails there is always Pop-Pop and Saratoga in 2012 to fall back on.  At least I know I’ll always get along with my stepson and daughter-in-law, can you say JACKPOT?!!!

The Way To A Bear's Heart Is Through His Stomach

 One of the things I've discovered about myself since I began taking care of my little bear is that I love to feed him.  When he shouts, "YUM!" upon tasting the first spoonful of whatever concoction I have placed before him, (usually something deceivingly yummy with veggies surreptitiously ground into it) I can't begin to tell you the glee I feel.  I have come to call it "Italian Mother" syndrome.  Growing up did you ever have a friend whose Mother, or perhaps your Mother was like this, they would always be able to find a food for whatever ailed you?  They would stand over you while you ate their creations and urge you, "Eat!  Eat! There's plenty more!", clearly gaining satisfaction from your enjoyment of the fruits of their labor.  I never understood that, for me when I cooked it was always for me to enjoy, not for the sake of others, what fun was that?!  My own Mother is like MacGyver in the kitchen.  Despite not being Italian she can rustle up a feast from seemingly empty cupboards and a barren fridge.  She is happiest when she is feeding and sustaining her people.  I never thought I took after her in this way, however, Terrbear has brought out a side of me that I was unaware I even possessed, the ability to not only cook well, but to actually enjoy cooking for others.  What makes this all the more surprising to me is the fact that more often than not, I can't eat the food I make him.  Before, cooking was all about the payback in taste and flavor, the anticipation of eventually eating and enjoying what I had made, now it has become a game of how can I healthfully recreate a recipe and sneak veggies into my little bear being without him being any the wiser.

 So when Terrbear came down with a nasty cold this week and along with a runny nose, puppy dog eyes and a chesty cough, he lost his appetite, I had to really get creative.  I made him his favorite lunch, baked cauliflower and Kale mac and cheese, usually a surefire hit.  When I told him what was for lunch he excitedly ran to his highchair shouting, "YUM! YUM!" But once it was placed before him he took a few bites and then lost interest.  Hmmm, this wouldn't do.  We had zucchini in the fridge that was about a day or two away from going bad, I looked online at several recipes for zucchini muffins but we either didn't have all the ingredients in the house already or they just looked blah to me, so I meshed a few different recipes together and added some of my own additions and made what truly may be THE WORLDS BEST CHOCOLATE ZUCCHINI MUFFINS!  I mean, not to be conceited, but they are truly amazing and relatively easy to make.  And the best part, when I placed one in front of my little bear he proclaimed, "YUM!"  and then acted like Bill Murray in "What About Bob" and moaned while he devoured it like a ferrel orphan child.  I looked on and murmured, "Eat!  Eat!  There's plenty more!"

 

You need to watch this clip. Seriously. 

So, if you'd like to amaze your family and friends with your culinary prowess, I now present to you the recipe for the MOST AMAZING CHOCOLATE ZUCCHINI MUFFINS EVER!!!  How magnanimous of me, right?  You're welcome!

Do you see that chocolate chunk?  So perfectly imperfect!

MOST AMAZING CHOCOLATE ZUCCHINI MUFFINS EVER!!!

• 2 Cups flour
• 3/4 cup raw organic sugar (I like Trader Joes)
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/4 tsp baking powder
• 1/4 cup of cocoa powder
• 1/2 tsp cinnamon
• 1/4 tsp nutmeg
• 3/4 cup of milk
• 1 cup of canola oil
• 4 egg whites
• 1 1/2 tsp vanilla
• 2 cups of zucchini, shredded
• 2 Bars (4oz) of semisweet bakers chocolate (I used Nestle) chopped with a knife into varying size chips and chunks.  You could use chips but we didn't have them in and the different sized chocolate morsels really make for a surprise in each bite!

 

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Coat a muffin tray with cooking spray.

In a large bowl combine tall the dry ingredients. Mix thoroughly.

In another bowl, whisk together the milk, oil, egg whites and vanilla. Then add the shredded zucchini and stir. Slowly add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients until just combined then add your chocolate chunks. Spoon batter into the prepared muffin tray, filling each cup to the top.  Bake in the oven for 20-22 minutes.  

Because of the zucchini these bad boys come out nice and moist. (I hate that word, but, what else can I say?  I also thought of the word succulent but realized I hate that word as well, so, moist it is.)  If you make these please let me know what you think!  As of right now the feedback I've received so far from one little guy can be summed up best with this picture:

"YUM!"

 

 

You know it was good eatin' when half of it ends up on your face!

Striving For Pleasant

 

You ever hear a word and suddenly out of the blue it strikes a chord in you?  It is almost as if it is the first time you are really hearing it or perhaps truly comprehending what it actually means?  A few weeks ago we had Memorial weekend at my parents, everyone came and for two lovely days we lounged by the pool, laughed, ate great food, everyone pitched in and cooked, cleaned, we played a raucous game of Taboo, no one bickered or got on each others nerves, everyone was happy to be there and it was just a really relaxed and wonderful weekend.  At the end of the weekend as she was leaving my sister Claire said to me, “Thank you for being so great this weekend, you were so pleasant.”  The word "pleasant" stood out to me, as if it was the first time I was really understanding exactly what it meant.  I realized that the entire weekend had indeed been pleasant, and everyone involved had behaved in a pleasant manner.  When I was younger if you had described someone as being “pleasant” to me I’d have thought, “Wow, they sound about as fun as a bag of bricks”, I associated pleasant with being staid, boring, and unadventurous.  Now I think to myself, “Say!  That’s someone I’d like to get to know better!”   When Claire said I was pleasant  I realized how much I truly took for granted being pleasant and how much I really enjoyed life when it was simply "pleasant".

I say all this knowing that I can be particularly UNpleasant.  In fact as recently as a few weeks ago I was guilty of being unpleasant, bawdy, boisterous, disagreeable and downright insufferable.  Things that I am repelled by in others I have displayed in myself.  Just recently after a night out where I had a few too many drinks I turned into Dr. Jekyll's loud mouthed and rather unpleasant sister.  My friend informed me that whenever she said something that I apparently disagreed with I would slap her on the mouth.  I would categorize that as highly UNpleasant behavior.  I was mortified and apologised profusely to her of course, (lucky for me she had a good sense of humor about it and accepted my shamefaced mea culpa).  I realised not only am I horrified when others behave that way, but when I am the one being unpleasant and disagreeable I feel downright hypocritical and embarrassed.  If I desire to live a more productive and happier life, if I want to be a certain type of person, then I must learn to be more pleasant.  

So, spurned on by my embarrassment over my own bad behaviour and my newfound comprehension of the word "pleasant", I made a resolution to be decidedly more pleasant.  See, what I didn’t realize when I was younger is pleasant isn’t synonymous with boring, why, a picnic in the park is pleasant!  Strolling on the beach on a summers day: pleasant!  Flowers being delivered from a secret admirer: a pleasant surprise!  Pleasant isn’t dull and uneventful, it's actually rather delightful!  It's living by the golden rule, expecting more from yourself than you do of others, creating the life you wish to live, and above all treating others with love and kindness.  So my new goal is to be pleasant, make good conversation, make sure the people I care for are aware that I indeed cherish and care for them (that means no more slaps on the mouth), enjoy myself and not sweat the small things, create a life that I am proud of and that makes me happy, and lastly, keep the vodka consumption to a pleasant 2 or 3 drink maximum.  

I went searching on the interwebs for quotes referring to the art of being pleasant and lo and behold there was a perfect quote from one of those old Greek guys again!  

“It is impossible to live a pleasant life without living wisely and well and justly. And it is impossible to live wisely and well and justly without living a pleasant life.” -Epicurious

Did these guys have it all figured out or what?  I feel like I will have what I think are these massive epiphany's, and just when I am ready to call the media and hire a sky writer I stumble upon a quote from one of them circa 500 BC that boldly illustrates to me how much I still have to learn about living and being a good person.  Smart guys.  Indeed, they seem like pleasant chaps I would say!  

Here’s to us all having a pleasant summer! 

This little guy has pleasant all figured out!

 

"I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June". -- L. M. Montgomery

 

It's here!  Summer is finally and officially here!  I feel like I am just waking up from a long slumber. After a looong and very snowy winter followed by a short and rainy Spring, as if overnight summer has arrived!  And for the record it literally was overnight, last week after 10 days of rain and 50 degree weather, Memorial day weekend came and thankfully brought with it 80 degree days and lots of sun.  We had a lovely weekend swimming, lounging, laughing, eating and drinking.  It was one of those weekends where you really enjoy your family, everyone is in a good mood and everyone pitches in to make the celebration a good one.  I felt as if I had been dropped into a resort in a tropical locale!  Since there was really no spring this year, no buildup to summer, laying by the pool soaking in the sun felt totally bizarre, yet blissfully wonderful to me.  So yesterday as I strolled around Manor park and pointed out the sail boats in the water to Terrbear I started thinking once again about my love affair with summer, how despite what it does to my hair, the creepy crawlers and the bug bites, the heat and the sweating, it truly is my favorite time of the year.  As we walked I made  mental notes of what I’m looking forward to doing this summer:

 

Roasting marshmallows over the fire pit with my niece!

Gossip, laugh, and lazily swill gimlets on the porch with my bestie Marge and her hub Stofferman, cuddle and play with my Goddaughter Linnea and her sister Vivi and chillax with some of my favorite peeps when we go to Rehoboth in July! 

Me, Marge and little Linnea

Play in the sand with Terrbear!

 

Dine Al Fresco!

More celebrations and Pimm's Cup by the Pool!  

 

Spend the weekend in New Hope with my Rosie girls!

 

Swim in the Sea, Jellyfish be damned! 

Once again see the love of my life and his band perform live with Blommer!

Swim with Terrbear and soak in that face he makes when the water first hits him, it is a look of both pure delight and glee.

Not the actual "face", but a cute one non the less!

Long walks on the beach and the wonderful feeling of the cool sand between my toes, the warm sun on my skin and the cold tide skimming my feet.

Drinking copious amounts of Iced Tea with my Mother’s freshly plucked

 mint from her garden!

Many more raucous rounds of Ta-booo!

Celebrate Terrbear’s SECOND birthday!  (How is this possible?  Where does the time go?!)

Terrbear Memorial Day 2010

That was a year ago, and look at this big beautiful boy now!  Where did the last year go?!  Nothing demonstrates the passage of time more profoundly than growing children.

 
And now, 23 months!

 

 

And above all else I plan on enjoying my family and friends and counting my blessings!  I’m sure I’ll think of more things when we go out for our walk today, for now though these all sound pretty fabulous to me!  Happy Summer everyone, what are you looking forward to doing and enjoying over the next few months?

When sisters stand shoulder to shoulder, who stands a chance against us? ~Pam Brown

 

Yesterday was my sister Robin’s birthday, and if you know me or have read the blog, then you know that in addition to being my older sister Robin is my best friend, champion, protector and all around one of my favorite people.  I realized this morning that on Terrbear and my Father’s birthdays I wrote posts dedicated to them so I figured, why not write one about Robin?

Robin has actually already been featured rather prominently here on the blog, after all it is her Terrbear that I have the pleasure of spending my days with, she walked beside me in October at the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, and so many of my stories and memories  from childhood involve her because truly, she was and is major part of my life.  If you know Robin then you know she likes things a certain way, some would call it her way, she would probably refer to it as the right way.  On a near nightly basis we have to google some issue we disagree on because she will never admit defeat (like her insistence that it is Jon Hamm in the Lindt chocolate commercial with the chefs hat on, uhm, no, it’s not.  Or my assertion that it is indeed George Clooney’s voice in that car ad, uhm YES, it is!  On both accounts I was correct, of course!  What can I say, we  sisters are always grappling with the most important issues of our time people.) She has a high aesthetic, she is fiercely protective of those she loves and cares about, she has an amazing sense of humor but manages to be funny without being cynical or demeaning to others.  She is generous almost to a fault.  If you are one of her people she will only see the best in you and expect only the best from you, she won’t tell you what you want to hear but rather what you need to hear but she will do it in the kindest, gentlest manner possible, and all of her advice comes from the heart, there is never an angle, an ulterior motive, just love.

Several years ago I went to see a psychic (laugh all you want but this woman is amazing, to this day Robin remains unconvinced that she is worth the 3 hour drive and the $40 but then again, Robin is far more practical than I) The first words out of the psychics mouth were, “Who is Robin?  They are telling me this is the person you go to for all your advice, the first person you call when you are happy or sad.  Her advice is always from the heart, she always has your best interests in mind.  And you’ve travelled through many lives together, and in every one she has looked after you.”  I almost passed out right there.  I knew this, I have always known this.  Some people you just know you have always known.  And while I am not sure I believe in past lives, I do know Robin is one of my kindred spirits.  When we were younger our little sister Jamie would get annoyed with us when Robin would refer to me as her “baby” (she is only 5 years older than me.  It sounds creepy but it was pretty hilarious at the time)  My first grade teacher told a then 11 year old Robin that she babied me too much and had to stop walking me to my classroom every morning, that I needed to be more independent.  Needless to say Robin let the teacher know she did not share her opinion and continued to drop me off in front of class every morning.  One summer we were at our beach club and some girl who was Robin’s age offered me her Cherry 7Up, she said, “Hey Mandy, do you want the rest of this?  It’s full of sugar and fattening just the way you like it.”  I actually didn’t even register that part, my 7 year old self heard “FREE CHERRY 7UP!!!” So you can imagine my shock and horror when Robin cut me off at the pass and sternly barked, “No, Mandy doesn’t want that!  Come on Mandy”  and dragged me away.  Once we were up in our locker changing I was still confused, and I wanted that soda dang it!  However, Robin set me straight “Mandy don’t ever let anyone talk that way to you!  She is insecure and nasty and that’s why she is like that.”  Ohhh, ok, I got it.  From the other side of the door we heard the girl, who apparently had been eavesdropping say, “Robin, Mandy, I’m sorry I said that.”  We both froze and looked at each other, our eyes wide open, our hands over our mouths suppressing giggles, finally Robin called back, “Uhm, ok, thanks!”  I’m telling you, don’t mess with a girl and her sister!

I always was secure in the knowledge that Robin liked having me around.  I was never a nuisance, she never treated me like the annoying little sister.  We had fun, after all I was her sidekick!  However, not everyone shared this sentiment.  On one occasion I was hanging out in Robin’s room with her and her friend, they were in Junior high at this point and I loved all the gossip about boys and crushes and the big girl talk.  However, Robin’s friend apparently considered me an uninvited guest.  When Robin got up to go the bathroom she turned on me, “WHY ARE YOU HERE?  You’re always chiming in and adding your two cents and annoying, we don’t want you here.”  Now, I was a shy, timid child, however, one thing I was confident in is that my sister liked me, this girl had it all wrong.  So, bolstered with the knowledge that Robin would always support me and did indeed want me there I retorted, “Robin likes me and wants me here!  In fact, when you go home we laugh at how stupid are and make fun of you!”  ZING!  That shut her right up!  It wasn’t very nice of me to say, but I was all of 7 years old, and she had it coming.  But that is what was and is so wonderful about Robin, I always felt accepted and supported, I knew that we were family and therefore everyone else came second to us.  And to be completely truthful, I wouldn’t have blamed Robin for kicking me out of her room and telling me to get lost every now and then.  I mean, her room was an immaculate palace, and yet I had managed to sully her lovely carpet on several occasions with my urine.  You see, Robin was funny, she would get me laughing and I would be clutching my belly when suddenly my little bladder would just decide to empty itself all over her pink carpet.  She never lost her temper though, she would just sigh and go get the club soda to clean it up, (By the way, how many 11 year olds are you aware of that know how to clean carpet stains with club soda??)

When I had a big interview and was nervous and had nothing to wear, it was Robin who gave me the money to buy a good suit, when I was living in the city and pinching my penny’s Robin left a Food Emporium gift card on my kitchen counter so I would be able to get healthy food to eat.  Three years ago when I had a sinus infection followed by the flu and felt like death, Robin drove up to my apartment with enough food to feed an army and straightened up my apartment and took out the garbage.  It is by watching her example that I am constantly reminded how to live life with grace, kindness, generosity and caring.  She is one of those rare people who manages to be inherently good without being boring, she is kind without being  self-righteous or condescending.  I am so blessed to be her sister and to have her as a friend.  My wish for you all is that you have a “Robin” in your life, someone who only see’s the best in you, expects great things of you, supports and loves you unconditionally and has the ability to make you laugh until you wet your pants.  

 

Par-Tay!!

My sister Robin emailed the following to me about an hour ago:

Subject:

Guess what today is...‏

National Irish Coffee day!  You can’t make this stuff up.  I am seriously thinking that an observance is in order tonight.  Just not sure if I will be able to pick up the whipped cream on my way home… I’ll need to think that through .

x

How was I unaware of this glorious holiday?!  Uhm, of course I will observe, after all, I love coffee, I really love coffee with alcohol, and I am Irish to boot, so I say let’s celebrate!  

Robin’s email was a nice surprise on a grey snowy day as well as reminder that life can and should be a celebration.  I am not saying we should live life like it's one big party, however, it is easy to get lost in the mundane every day routine.  Sure we celebrate the big ones; Christmas, Thanksgiving, but in between the big Holidays it is easy for regular life to take over.  Too often we rush home, harried and tired from the workday and the commute, we whip up dinner and park ourselves in front of the TV, go to bed and do it all over again the next day.  It's difficult to create small celebrations during the week, but so rewarding and fun when we do! 

Growing up my parents were great at creating magic and tradition and celebrating the big and small holidays.  Valentine’s Day my Father would come home from the city with goodies for all the ladies in his life, my sisters and I usually got red socks adorned with hearts, and red foil wrapped chocolates.  Fat Tuesday before lent my Mother would anonymously leave treats in our rooms, cookies in a plastic bag pinned to the bulletin board above your desk, candies hidden under your pillow.  On a regular Tuesday!  What a treat!  Growing up we had a dear family friend who knew how to really celebrate life; Father Earl lived every day to the fullest, he loved food, friends, celebrations, and living the good life.  He and my Mother would orchestrate these amazing meals from seemingly nothing, the emptier the cabinets the more they relished the challenge.  They would turn a simple meal on a regular night into a party!  Father Earl was wonderful at not only creating celebrations in life, but also at celebrating the people in his life.  Randomly he would decide a certain day was “Your Day.”  On "Mandy Day" (a Thursday in August, out of the blue!) we came home to find a huge children's activities workbook, crayons and cookies stacked by the front door, all for me in honor of my day!  A day I hadn't even been aware of until then!  Each of my sisters had a turn getting their own day, on my sister Claire’s day I remember we all ate “Eclair’s” of course.  Father Earl passed when I was 8 years old and I remember the adults all laughing incredulously at his wake when they found out that he was not in fact born on Saint Patrick's Day as he claimed, but a few weeks before.  This was a man who knew how to live well and have fun while doing it.  

Don’t get me wrong, I love routine, taking care of a toddler every day has taught me how essential routine is, however, life is good, we need to celebrate it!  Tonight, my sister, brother in law and I will celebrate National Irish Coffee Day, not because we are in fact Irish or really love coffee that much, but because we have so much to celebrate.  On a cold night, getting together and enjoying something while we chat and catch up, this is what life is about,  reveling in the simple pleasures and taking time to count our blessings.  So whether you celebrate National Eggs Benedict Day (April 16th) or National Chocolate Ice Cream Day (June 7th, and I intend to celebrate both FYI)  make sure you are finding opportunities to celebrate life and the people around you who make it a good one.  Tonight I will raise a nice warm mug of Irish Coffee to everyone in my life who has blessed me with their love, friendship and company.  Sláinte

Irish Coffee Recipe:

Two parts Irish whiskey

Four parts hot coffee

One and a half parts fresh cream

One teaspoon brown sugar

Good Company

A Pinch of Blessings and Gratitude

Mark Twain, Edith Lovejoy Pierce and Justin Bieber

You know how to recognize when you are procrastinating?  How to truly recognize that not only are you procrastinating but you are doing a terrible job of it as well? When you fire up your laptop to write a blog post and naturally you think, “Well just let me check my email before I start writing..."  Then in your inbox, a message from Facebook, "Oh!  Wait, what’s this?  I’ve been tagged in a photo on Facebook, well I must just click on over there and make sure it is appropriate for public consumption".  After reading all 200 status updates as well as perusing other peoples recently uploaded photos (no matter that it is your old co-workers third cousins, friends, nieces wedding photos, you may want to get married at The Island Chateau on Staten Island one day, need to check it all out, right?)  Having then mentally planned your wedding in your head you finally remember you want to check out the photo of you that was tagged, "Ohh, noooo, untag, UN-TAGGG, don’t like the way I look in that one at all, fat beard is in full effect in that shot....hmmm, what was I doing?"  As your brain wanders into and gets lost in the haze that is "Why I turned on my laptop in the first place", you think to yourself  "Oh wait!  I haven’t checked out Dlisted yet today....must get my gossip fix...”. Fast froward another twenty minutes and lo and behold , twenty precious minutes later, you are reading about...God I can’t even admit this , you are reading an interview with JUSTIN BIEBER instead of writing your BLOG?!!  True story folks.  What is wrong with me?  I don’t even like The Biebs, what gives? Perhaps this head cold/stomach bug/virus I have has induced a case of Bieber fever?  Ugh, I hate myself.  

What gives is I am naturally someone who has grown to abhor resolutions, that combined with the fact that I am also a professional procrastinator (in college papers were never started before 11:00pm the night before they were due, the creative juices just couldn’t flow until the pressure was really on).   And as I stated in my previous post, resolutions, meh, deep down I never really liked them.  They always seemed to be an albatross hanging from your neck from January 1st through December 31st, only to be completely discarded the next year or strapped on yet again, this time heavier and more cumbersome than they were the previous year.  Am I naturally rebelling against my aversion to resolutions by procrastinating and not blogging?  I don’t know, I guess it’s time to schedule that therapy session.  I’ve been seeing the famous Mark Twain quote in peoples statuses all over Facebook (See, told you I read your statuses!) "New Year's Day: Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual."  Every time I read it I wonder, why do we make resolutions anyway?  Why do we think that we will commit to some new way of living on the 31st and wake up January first reformed, renewed and ready to magically be a different, better, wiser, more productive version of ourselves?  And I am wondering this all as a reformed bum, as someone who until the last 10 years or so was actually big on resolutions.  I liked the hopefulness of it, the possibility, the potential and promise that the New Year and those resolutions held.  However, in the past I was also one of the many who were paving hell with them the following week, feeling disappointed, sad and angry with myself for not morphing into a better version of myself.

Then on the Today show I heard my beyatches Kathie Lee and Hoda clucking on about how resolutions are so dead, so over, so not worth it.  Then they launched into a whole segment about how people suffer from depression more in January than any other time of the year.  Apparently we realize we are in debt from all the Christmas festivities, we are detoxing from a sugar and/or alcohol overload and summer is still 5 months away.  Well, thanks for the starting the day off on a positive note ladies!  

So I got to thinking, am I feeling down, blase, directionless now that the holidays are over and the New Year is here?  Is that why I am reading about Bieber instead of writing a post?  I guess if I am honest with myself I feel a little...unfocused.  I feel like it's disingenuous to write a positive blog post when truly, my heart isn’t fully buying it.  Sometimes I find myself and my list and my ideas so tiresome, then I wonder, “Woah, if I find it tiresome what must others think?”  I am actually a very positive person, but the treacly, syrupy, self-helpy, “yay, go me!” sentiments don’t jibe well with me, I do have a little cynic under it all that wants to kick the cheerleaders legs out from under her.  And the fact that I had genuinely felt so positive, so focused when I wrote my last post on the 31st yet now felt a little disheartened and weary made me feel like a fraud.  In addition, hearing that according to the Today show and Mark Twain everyone apparently feels positive going into the New Year and then on the brink of hopelessness only a few days later made me feel like a cliche.  A fraudulent cliche.  In addition to that, I know more about Justin Bieber than I should.  Not two things I’m proud to admit and not exactly fun fodder for a blog post.  (I just realised were I to tag “Justin Bieber” as one of my descriptive key words, my traffic would go up immensely, but since I am already sick, I truly can’t deal with rabid hate mail from teenage girls right now so, I think not.)

In October, once I had completed the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer I felt a little bit like, “OK, what now?”  All the months of training, planning, fund-raising, focused on this amazing goal, focused on something that was not only improving my health but also outside of me and for a greater good, and in 2 days it was suddenly...over.  Just like that.  However I didn’t have time to really wallow in my emotions, in no time at all it was Thanksgiving, followed by Christmas.  Time was just speeding by, I was enjoying the ride and not having time to dwell on how I felt.  However, once the holidays were over, it was like on January first someone slammed on the breaks and left me on the side of the road kicking the dirt and wondering what’s next?  

Well, if I force myself to be honest with myself, I have a whole freaking list of “What’s next”, two long lists as a matter of fact.  So, while Justin Bieber is truly riveting and intensely engaging to read about, I have no time, or reason for that matter, to procrastinate.  I have plans, I have goals and I have 5 months left to make my year long list a reality.  So, bear with me, but I am going to be my own cheerleader right now so please don’t kick my feet out from under me as I launch into a verbal “split lift” for “team M-A-N-D-Y!!”  (Too much?  Ok, I’ll stop).  I am going to refocus myself and, while I have tremendous love and respect for Mark Twain (Some would say he was the Bieber of his time!  I KID, I kid.) regarding the New Year I will instead focus on the more positive and hopeful words of Edith Lovejoy Pierce, (Thanks for the quote Jen D!) “We will open the book.  Its pages are blank.  We are going to put words on them ourselves.  The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year's Day.”  Thanks for reading my first chapter of 2011. 

Should Old Resolutions Be Forgot

My little Bear in the snow!

I have been horrible at blogging the last few weeks.  While doing my Christmas shopping, while chasing my little Bear around, while trimming the tree, I would have this little monkey on my back whispering in my ear, "Uhmm, hello!!!  Blog anyone?  When are you going to blog?!  Lazy Blogger!  LAAAZEEEE!!"  Ughhh.  I had ideas, I had posts written in my mind, I had the best of intentions, alas, I haven't posted since Thanksgiving!  For shame!  

I had intended to write a year end list rehash, a look back at what I've accomplished in the last year, and a look to the future and what I still intend to achieve.  Really go out with a bang!  However, my clogged sinuses and a looming trip to the grocery store to get goodies for tonight's celebration have fogged my brain and cut my time short.  So this will be brief.  Truth be told I had to post, just so I could ring in the New Year without that obnoxious monkey on my back distracting me while I tried to remember the words to Auld Lang Syne.  I mean, sure, we all know the first verse, but truly, the second verse on is like Greek, am I right?  I don't want to ring in another year feeling regretful, regret for things left undone, ashamed at the goals carried over consistently from year to year.  Instead I want to focus on the things I have done, the things I intend to do.  I don't need any distractions when that ball drops, no guilt or self-reproach, I want to begin 2011 proud of what I accomplished in 2010 and excited for what I will achieve in the coming year. 

I was vowing to start this year sans resolutions.  They are so annoying, so 2010.  I was so excited that for the first time in many, many years I am starting the New Year in better shape, down 68 pounds and already involved in a healthy diet and exercise routine.  As opposed to feeling bloated and discouraged after a holiday week of overindulgence.  "Lose weight and get healthy" has been my resolution for approximately the last 20 years.  (That is a scary thing to type!) To ring in the New Year without that particular monkey on my back feels wonderful, astounding really, and very liberating.  So, I was set to ring in 2011 resolution-less, resolutions were for suckers, people less enlightened than me!  Until I realized I needed to make blogging my resolution.  I went from blogging almost daily, to several times a week, to once a week, to now, well, looks like I am averaging once a month.  Not good.  Especially because I like blogging, I enjoy it, I love writing, I love thinking of topics to blog about, rolling ideas around in my head, and I will freely admit I am a glutton for the feedback and the comments.  

Therefore, I decree 2011 will be the year I continue to focus on my year long list (my May deadline will be here in no time!  That "Run a 5K is breathing down my neck folks!) and make blogging more of a priority.  I guess I am "resolving" to be a more committed blogger.  Tonight at Midnight I am looking forward to singing Auld Lang Syne while kissing my favorite little man, my Terrbear.  Thanks to spending my days with him I have found peace, been inspired to get fit, lose weight, and be the best version of myself I can be.  That little Bear has made my life more fun, more inspired and more worthwhile.  I am blessed to have him for my nephew.  When I kiss him at midnight I will do so in the hopes that within a few years I will ring in the New Year with a kiss for my husband and have my own little bears on the way.  At midnight I will be putting that wish, that prayer out into the world and will also be wishing and praying that  wherever you are, however you ring in the New year you are surrounded by people you love, and you are without regret and instead hopeful for what the New Year will bring!  Happy New Year!  

The Best Year With The Best Bear

My friend Caitlin has a wonderful blog where she from time to time writes letters to her sons.  They are beautifully written and I always look forward to reading them.  When I arrived last Monday morning from Connecticut to start another week with my Terr-bear he and his Mommy presented me with a gift card to Barnes and Noble and a beautiful card wishing me “Happy Anniversary”.  It was a year ago last week that I started taking care of and spending my days with a then 4 month old Terrance.  The last year has literally flown by, nothing demonstrates the rapid passing of time like watching a baby grow before your eyes.  I absolutely love my days with Terr-bear, he is a joy and a delight, he makes me laugh, and he is the kindest, sweetest, most wonderful little person I have ever met.  Since we are at the one year mark I thought I would “borrow” from Caitlin’s blog and write him a letter about the past year we've had together.

 

Dear Terrance,

Do you remember our first day together?  I do!  I remember you were strapped into your seat and after your Mommy left for work we looked at each other and I said, “Well! Here we are!”  and then I took your picture and you smiled at me and I knew we would be buddies.  We were going to get along swimmingly!  Then our second day together you had your 4 month check up and do you remember how you barely even cried when you got your shots?  You were so brave and such a trooper.  

Day one with the Bear!

I remember some days in those early months wondering what we would do for 10 or 11 hours a day.  Before bed each night I pored over “The Baby Whisperer”, determined to get you on a schedule and to make sure I was doing what was best for your little body and mind to grow.  I wanted to make sure your Mommy and Daddy could got to work knowing you were in good hands and that you would feel safe and calm with me.  Do you remember all the time we would spend on “tummy time”?  How you would get upset and annoyed with me for trying to get you to keep your head up and strengthen your neck muscles?  Then finally how when you mastered that I would try and coax you to roll over?  Now when you are frustrated with me and want to get down ASAP and throw your head back forcefully and I am frantically trying to wrangle your squirming body, I remind myself how ironically it was I who helped you strengthen those head and neck muscles!

Tummy time!

I was so intent on getting you to nap in your crib, however, for a few weeks you had other plans.  Remember those cold January days when I would push you around the house in the stroller while you “hummed” yourself to sleep?  Or all those times you fell asleep in my arms and while my arms would become numb I didn’t really mind as it gave me the opportunity to stare at your beautiful little face for 45 minutes or so.  

45 Minutes of bliss.

I love that when we go to  Shake Rattle and Roll you are the only child that goes into the middle of the circle and dances to the music.  You've had an appreciation and love for music from the start. We would dance around the living room in the mornings listening to what you now call the “Ding Ding” song and you’d put your head on my shoulder and sometimes drift off to sleep.  I still think the most comforting and peaceful feeling in the world is the weight of your head on my shoulder and your little body on my chest. 

I remember your first snow, your Mommy and I bundled you up in your teddy bear snow suit and placed you in a downy white drift and while we thought you would gleefully start playing you gave us both a dubious look and reached for your Mommy to pick you up.  Then there was that day where the flakes of snow were the size of quarters, I bundled us up and carried you out to see the flakes, instead of being in awe of them you giggled at how silly I looked with the hood of my coat pulled over my head and you gave me a hug.  

Who knew Bears didn't like snow?

The first time I heard you say my name to get my attention, I wrote it in my journal, it was February 18, 2010. Now I love how in the mornings as I shuffle out of bed and out to the living room to start the day with you, you yell from behind the baby gate, “MNNN-DEEE!”  Or when tonight when we were driving your parents home from the train you pointed to me and murmured, “Mnnnndeeee”.  

When you were only a few months old I would make my hand crawl all over you like a little bug and you would giggle and laugh.  We’d spend hours simply playing peek-a-boo with your blanket.  And remember how you’d lay on your back on the floor and we’d sing “Head, shoulders, knees and toes”?  Now when I sing "Twinkle" to you, you say “Agin!  Peas?!!”  which I know means, “Again, please!”  You are one of the only people on the planet who will actually beg me to sing.  

You have been fascinated by lights since I can remember.  When we stayed at Nan and Pop’s last year I would walk you around and soothe you by pointing out all the lights, now everywhere we go you point out the lights and will beg me to turn them on, this includes street lamps and lights in the grocery store.  “Light” was one of the first words you spoke.  That seems appropriate considering you are the light of my life.  

You have been a showman from the start, you ham it up when I bring out the camera!  That combined with your cute little mug has resulted in me taking literally thousands of pictures of you over the last year.  You mastered a wonderful little parlor trick early on that we would use to charm people, I'd ask you, "Terrance, what does the lion say??" to which you would respond with a loud and hearty, "ROARRR!!".  I love that when your Halloween costume arrived, a lion suit naturally, you gleefully posed for my many pictures and roared at me theatrically.  

ROARRR!!!!

Now, I know it wasn’t all giggles and roses.  We had our days where both of us felt like we couldn’t hit our stride.  There was the time I locked the keys in the car, and I dressed you in some silly outfits on several occasions, and the time I splattered cold (thank God not hot!) coffee all over you and your white furry coat.  And how can we forget your one year check up, such a monumentous occasion for a little guy!  When your Mommy went to the ladies room and left us in the waiting room of the Dr.’s office you started to fuss, so I picked you up and we started swaying back and forth and humming, suddenly my entire sundress was covered with your urine which also shot out and hit one of the waiting room chairs.  Whoops!  Then once back at home I decided to heed the Dr.’s advice to start feeding you more chunky food to get you accustomed to “real food”, I placed some infant puffs on your high chair tray and showed you how to eat them, you reluctantly put one in your mouth only to instantaneously start gagging and then proceeded to vomit all over us both.  More recently I know there are times when you are frustrated with me, you are communicating so beautifully and  I will be certain I know what you are asking for, only to have you throw your body on the floor and wail “Nooooo!!!”.  I am trying to learn what you are saying, I promise it will get easier for us both.  And I understand you don’t like the fact that I tell you not to touch or do so many of the very things you find so intersting; t.v.’s, Ipods, stoves, electrical outlets, climb the stairs, shut your fingers in doors, and my favorite, sticking your fingers in crevices where they inevitably will become stuck, I know I seem like a real buzzkill, but I swear it is all for your own good. 

Bear on the move!

However, vomiting, peeing, tantrums, and trying to stick your fingers anywhere and everywhere aside, we really do have a good time together, don't we?  I have never laughed as much as I have this past year.  It is truly amazing for me to see the world through your eyes, to see how beautiful, awe inspiring and wonderful every day occurrences can be.  That I can forget our shopping list and become annoyed at my own forgetfulness and mutter “Duh” to myself and I hear your little giggle, so I say “duh” again, this time more theatrically and you dissolve into laughter.  Suddenly my silly mistake is forgotten!  It is amazing how your smile, a hug from you, and your big wet kisses can make me feel like I am the luckiest person in the world.  I love our walks, our hours spent reading, playing and dancing, you make every day worthwhile, fun, and an adventure.  What you don't know is that when I was toiling away commuting into the city, working and feeling trapped, exhausted and uninspired, whenever the clock would strike 11:11 I would say a little prayer and ask for the coming year to simply be, "the best year of my life, so far."  So it seems appropriate to thank you on 11/11 for what has in so many ways been the best year of my life so far.  I love you Bear!

Love,

Mnnnndeeeee!

16 Months old!  What a year it's been! xoxo

Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves!

Remember those paddle ball toys, a wooden paddle with a rubber ball attached to it by a rubber band?  Yesterday when my Mother and I were at her house playing with Terrbear and going through the many toys she has for the grandchildren we stumbled upon one of those paddle ball toys.  Seeing this simple, old fashioned, cheap toy brought me back to a memory that when I shared with my Mother I realized almost totally and completely sums up my relationship with my sister Robin.

One summer when I was probably 5 or 6 and Robin was 10 or 11 we were sitting on the sidelines while my Mother played doubles tennis with 3 other women from our town.  A few yards away from us was the son of one of the women.  He was probably a year or so older than me and he was expertly playing with one of those paddle balls.  He was a pro, the ball slapped repeatedly back and forth in a rhythmic fashion, never missing it's target on the paddle and I was mesmorized.  He made it look so easy!  I was sure if given the chance, I would be equaly as skilled, if not more, than he was.  So of course I told Robin I wanted to try it.  Like, really, REALLY badly.  But being a shy kid, I didn’t have the gumption to ask him.  “Just ask him!” she urged me, probably tired of hearing my obsessive soliliqy at this point.  So finally at her urging I went over and shyly asked, “Can I try?”.  To which he without hesitation unequivocally responded, “No.” .  Hmmm, I wasn’t really prepared for that response.  Apparently neither was Robin because when I walked back to her defeated she asked in surprise, “He said no?!  Well, let me ask him.”  Now this is what I really wanted from the beginning, Robin was good at getting her way.  She had an authoritative and slightly bossy demeanor that made kids listen to her and a good-goody vibe that adults adored, there really wasn’t anyone who she couldn’t persuade to listen to her form of reasoning.  So together we walked over and she confidently said, “Hi, my sister Mandy would really like to try that, just for a moment, do you think you could let her?”  Which to my amazement and shock he replied, “NO.”  What?!  Where was this lunatic from?  Just who did he think he was?  So we turned and walked back to our area dumbfounded and vexed.  Until...at some point he went to get a soda and wouldn’t you know it left his paddle ball game neatly sitting on a bench.  So of course we pounced on it and I immediately began spastically slamming the ball into the paddle while it flew back and forth at high speed.  It was all over the place, hitting me in the face, flying from left to right, needless to say I wasn’t quite as skilled as he was.  Suddenly the rubber band attached to the paddle couldn’t take the strain anymore and snapped.  We both froze in horror.  Crap!  What had I done?!  I just wanted to try it!  So what did we do?  We neatly placed it back on the bench just so and made it look like we had never been there and then faded into the shadows.  The poor kid came back, picked it up off the bench and the ball fell to the ground and rolled away.  We felt awful, but what could we do?  Right?  We tried reasoning with him!  We asked politely!  We didn’t want it to come to this damn it!  

When I told my Mother the story after a hearty laugh she exclaimed, “I don’t believe it!  My two little angels!  You and Robin were always so well behaved!  And honest!”  and I said, “I know, but we had our own brand of justice, sister justice.  Afterwards when we felt bad about the fact that I broke it Robin reasoned that it wasn’t really that bad because after all, “if he had just agreed to share it this all never would’ve happened.”  I liked her logic and felt secure that the universe indeed does work in cyclical and mysterious ways.  

Now, I know it was rotten of us to do, and this story aside I swear we really are very nice girls, but sometimes you just need someone to have your back.  Robin always has, and still does have my back.  Tomorrow and Sunday Robin and I are participating in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer (perhaps in light of what undercover hooligans we were as children this will help balance our Karmic bank account a bit?) and together we will walk all day both days, camp out overnight and have raised over $3500 for a cure.  Stories like the paddle ball tale make me realize that this is exactly the type of person who I want walking all those miles with me.  Together we have fun, we laugh, we get each other and of course, we always have each others backs.  If I stumble or make a mistake my sister is there to support me and even put a positive spin on the whole situation.  I am so excited, anxious, exhilarated, proud and moved by this cause and  know that this will be an uplifting and moving weekend, and I’m so happy that the person who has always been my partner in crime, my advocate, my champion, and big sister will be walking with me. I am so blessed to have not only Robin but four hilarious, loving, supportive, and amazing sisters walking with me through life.  

We have been preparing for the walk, fundraising, getting our gear, anticipating this weekend for months.  And it is finally upon us!  It has been such a wonderful experience and the support we have received from everyone in our lives has been inspiring.  Thank you to everyone for their words of support and encouragement, prayers, donations, and positive energy, each and every one of you will be in our thoughts and prayers as we walk towards a cure this weekend.