Covered in Thin Icing

When I was a kid, around this time in December, I would go to my best friend's house to decorate Christmas cookies. Her mom and her mom's best friend had stayed up all night the night before and baked until they just couldn't anymore. My BF and I would sit around her mother's kitchen table decorating those cookies until we were covered in thin icing, and our bellies were full with the cookies that were broken.

As the years went by and we grew up, there were many people who came and decorated for a year or two, and then our boyfriends started to come along, but it was always at least the two of us there. And as even more years passed, her mom would share that bottle of wine she was drinking. I do not remember a Christmas when I was younger not decorating Christmas cookies at her house.

But then we grew up. My BF enlisted in the Navy to serve her country, while I went to college. Our last year of making cookies together was the year before my BF left for boot camp. (We begged her mom to make us cookies, but her mom said if we wanted the we had to make them ourselves... and we did. It was the night of December 23, and we stayed up until they were all baked and decorated. That was around noon on December 24.)

Fast Forward to 7 years ago. She was home for Christmas with her kids. We laughed about how we were going to finally bake cookies together again, but an emergency pulled her back to Norfolk, and we didn't do it then either.

Fast Forward to 2 years ago. The day that she was supposed to drive the hour to my house, we had one hell of a snow storm, and it was the only day she had off. They didn't get done together that year either.

Last year, I was still recovering from having Pineapple, so I bought some refrigerator dough to roll out to at least have my kids decorate them. I just couldn't get it done though. (In fact all 3 of the older ones were flipping out because we didn't have home made cookies for Santa last year.)

But this year...

This year we are in the same city. This year, we have an entire day to do it while the older ones are in school. This year we have expanded our list from the basic 3 different kinds to having 11 different kids. And then, on the kids' first day of break, her kids and my babes, will all sit around my kitchen table to decorate cookies... and another generation will know what it's like to be...

...covered in thin icing and have their bellies be full of the cookies that were broken.  

Day One

I can't believe I actually did it. I started NaNoWriMo. I have wanted to for the last few years, but something always got in the way. (Last year I had a pretty darn good excuse me thinks.) But I started it.

One of the pieces of advice they give you on the site is not to write a story you have been thinking about. Something about being too invested, thinking too much... oh I read that advice two years ago... but it makes sense. So I haven't been thinking about Merrissa or Santino... to the point where I forgot Merrissa's mother's name. (It's Jazz BTW.)

So I think I will be blogging more? I honestly don't know. Real Life is going to get hectic... It's already started. But I feel the need to... write... to share words... because words are awesome...and they are just spilling from me.

I feel good, energized. Do I think that this is going to be the next great big thing? Oh hell no. I know better. Even with Doe's story I know better, but what I hope this brings me, is the knowledge and the ability to believe in myself. That I can do, that I can mark off one of the HUGE items on my shoulda coulda woulda list.

So, if you are writing a novel this November, and want a writing buddy, let me know. We can be each others cheerleaders.

I'm writing a novel this November. Are you?

Molly... you devious little muse you....

I was thinking about the book... the one I promised would be written by the end of the year... the one I swore I would complete... the one that I haven't touched in months... and I... yeah.

Anyway, my mom was cleaning out some stuff at her house and brought me things I thought were long gone, like Jelly's first Ren Faire pic. (Yeah, I smiled all afternoon about that one.) and in it was some BS writing that I did back... YEARS ago. I could tell that it was just more notes than anything, but it was painful to read.

But I remember that story. That was the first one. The VERY first one. The one that my sister and I had dreams of becoming a soap opera, the one that we had twisted and turned around and actually wrote an outline for. Granted looking back on that outline now, there is no way that a 40 year old Colonel in Army would knowingly have a relationship with his son's girlfriend's twin sister, who was 16 by the way. (You got all that?) But there were other parts. One of them being this amazing love story.

... Damien and Doe are going to go and sit on a shelf for a while...

... and I am going to write this one. The first one...

I'm writing a novel this November. Are you?

How Gizmo is making us watch The Polar Express

My sister and her brood came to visit on my birthday. Even though we haven't bought each other presents in years, they showed up with one for me. It was something I had been talking about wanting to get for a few weeks. It was nothing expensive, just something I wanted to share with my babes, it left that much of an impression on me.

It was none other than this movie.

What were those three rules again?

My nephew (only 6 months younger than Butter), Butter and Banana had all been talking about wanting to watch horror movies. What better one to let them cut their teeth on than one of the one of the movies that made the Motion Picture Association of America revamp their rating system? So I got it in my head that I wanted... needed to get my hands on it, and show it to them. 

After all it had this guy in it... 

I want one!

... and this guy...

Back in the '80's when badass = evil 

The next day, when Pineapple went down for her nap, I put it in the DVD player, and curled up on the couch with Butter and Banana to watch. Now, it has been YEARS since I have actually seen this movie, so my memory was a little spotty when it came to it. What I do remember is, that when I saw it as a kid, it made me laugh in a few places, it made me jump in a few places, and I recall very vividly the kitchen scene. (Because honestly, could you forget the microwave?) But there is one scene I did forget about. (Go ahead and watch the 1:40 clip. I'll wait.)

(Unless you remember that scene exactly, you need to watch it. It's ok, I'll wait for you.)

That scene didn't set off alarm bells, in fact I didn't even give it a passing thought. I was more interested on the babes reactions. If a movie that influenced me as a kid would stack up to what they watch on a daily basis. They said they liked it, but neither have mentioned wanting to watch it again. I think it scared them a little more than they are willing to admit. No problem. We are still a few years off for scary stuff. 

Fast Foward a week, and the babes are talking about Santa, when my EIGHT year old little girl blind sides me with the blasphemy that rolls out of her dirty mouth tells her OLDER brother, "I can't believe that you are almost 10 years old and still believe in Santa. You are such a dweeb." (With an eye roll that made my eyes hurt.)

Wait? What?

I pull her aside later and asked her about it. She swore she was "just joking" and of course she "still believes". I played the old card of "Do you think that your dad and I could buy everything that Santa brings you?" She did the obligatory shake of the head "no". 

Then I saw it. 

That look that every child learns at some point in their life, the one that just makes you want to slap it right off of their precious little faces,  the one that reveals their internal thoughts of, "OMG. My {insert parent's name here} is so stupid." Banana had that look mastered at five, so she has had a lot of practice with it. Unfortunately, there was something so genuine about this one. So honest, so true... my heart shattered for the both of us.  I knew in that instant, she no longer believed.

I knew I was on borrowed time with the two older ones. Butter has a test for Santa this year. He is going to ask for something that The Chef and I always told him that Santa wouldn't bring him. He is going to put it in his letter and not tell The Chef and I what it is. (Baby monitors are such wonderful devices.)  Which of course under the tree would be that one thing he asked for. With that plan in mind, I figured we had one more year with Butter, and one, maybe two more with Banana.

I had no idea where she learned the truth. We are so careful, and I get on the ones who aren't. But what really confused me is that it's the beginning of September. I shrugged my shoulders and went about it, making a firm decision that The Polar Express would be on our "Not to Miss Christmas Movie/Specials" list. If I was lucky I could squeeze out one more Christmas with her.

Fast Forward a week and a half. I'm sitting down to watch one of the shows I recorded on the DVR. It's The Rotten Tomatoes Show. (For those of you that are not familiar with it, it is a movie review show shown on current.) Well, I record it at some off time, and instead of reviewing the most recent movies out in the theatre, it was a Top Five show. And on this show, they had a segment called, "The Top Five Kids Movies That Aren't Really Made For Kids" and what movie was mentioned?

First they talk about the kitchen scene, then they play the clip that I posted, and then they replay the line, "That's how I found out there wasn't a Santa." 

I felt my mouth hanging open as I smacked my palm against my forehead. 

We are most certainly watching The Polar Express this year. 

Another of My Affairs

I am an only child. 

That means there was more than one time in my childhood that I had to find something to occupy myself. This of course included finding something to do when my parents and I were waiting for food when we went out to eat. 

But being an only child, it didn't take much. All I needed was a pen or a pencil and a plain paper placemat. 

I didn't doodle exactly, oh no, it was certainly more personal than that... 

I wrote my name.  

Sometimes it was my full name, but more often than not, it was only the six letters that make up my first name. I would manipulate those letters, and turn them into something beautiful, something hard, something ugly, something soft. I would just write those six letters over and over again, and the only time that the style repeated itself was when I happened upon something that I liked. There were loops and curls, there were straight edges and corners...

... you get the idea.

I honestly believe all the time perfecting the one thing that was mine, it has now manifested into this affair.

Out of this short list, there is only one that I don't have installed... yet

I try to stay away from here and here and here. I could spend hours looking at all the pretties that others have made, wanting nothing in return. I have spent hours playing with... well... these little pieces of art. 

A well used font is the cherry on the top of a word sundae; the mundane becomes a little more tolerable, the special becomes just that much more. They can reinforce the declaration of love, or they can strengthen your message. 

Fonts are just awesome. 

A different kind of anniversary

All of these women including myself, have a very important thing in common. It is the thing that introduced us, and in the beginning what kept us together. We all have babies that were born in September 2000. We met online through an email group.

In the heyday of our group, there were over 20 members. It was odd at the time to belong to a group like ours. We were sharing details of our lives with strangers that not only were all over the country, but all over the world. There were discussions about our older children, our husbands, our jobs and of course our pregnancies. There was this abandonment of our personal social facade. We were able to be utterly honest because there was a safeness in the anonymity of it all.

Over the years members have come and gone, but we have stayed, the roots of our friendship running deep, binding us together in a way that I don't think any of us at the time could have possibly fathomed. We know each other's dreams and fears. We have shared the secrets that we hide from the rest of the world. We have celebrated with each other during times of complete bliss, and we have held each other when our worlds were falling apart, even though we are all states (and continents) away from each other. 

A few of us have been lucky enough to meet face to face, and it didn't take long to slide into the intimate comfortableness that only old friends share.


In your lifetime you make be fortunate enough to have one such friendship, one who loves you for all that you are, and everything your not. But to know that you have six such people in our lives...

So, on the eve of our children's entrance into double digits, the Wise One said:

 First, i can't believe they are gonna be 10.  But mostly, I think it is amazing and wonderful how we have stuck with each other despite distance and different lives - through almost all of us moving, relationships ending, more children coming, jobs gotten and lost, careers changing, new ventures begun, illness and problems with our kids and our families and friends.  We have supported and encouraged each other - given advice - shared ideas - and just chatted.  A lot of people probably couldn't understand it, but somehow it has meant a lot to all of us over these years.  I really love and appreciate the friendship of all of you.

and we all happily agreed. 

These strong, beautiful, powerful, intelligent, honorable, loyal, astonishing women make my life better because they are in it. And even though thousands of miles may separate us, that doesn't make what we have any less than just the complete and unadulterated awesomeness that it is. 


Happy September 2010!

The End of August, how did that happen?

To say that things have been crazy hectic would be a very large understatement. Slowly boxes have been unpacked and things moved into their new places. Unfortunately other things have just been moved. I know it will take a while to get really settled in. Where we have more room in some aspects, we have less in others. I can organize things that I want them done... and I am finding that some things aren't where they should be. It's a chaotic mess, pure and simple. However, I am to the point where boxes are not threatening to take out a child... mine or one of the neighborhood kids. 

Yes, neighborhood kids. Butter and Banana have both made friends on the street. I have met their parents and several other neighbors. I was talking to my mom about it, and she said that the street I grew up on was like that. She knew the parents of the kids I played with, and several other of the neighbors close to her. It doesn't surprise me, I am in the same area that I grew up in. I am a lot further of a walk to my parents than I was to my in laws... as in the babes can not walk over there by themselves, but if I really need to get there I can with no problem.

The Chef went and got himself a new job, so we are waiting and seeing how the chips fall. He needed to be out of the place that he was... not to sound overly dramatic, but it was killing his soul. His immediate supervisor took every opportunity to throw him under the bus that he could, and that gentleman's boss and The Chef just had a personality clash that could not be resolved. He too downgraded his abilities, his talent, and made him feel worse than gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe. I am glad that he is away from there. I so very happy that he isn't constantly hearing how much he sucks every. single. day. 

As for the children, the oldest three are all signed up for school and more than ready for it to start. The city that we are in isn't starting until after Labor Day because of the construction that they are doing on the high school... better to have the entire district on the same schedule. Butter and Banana will be attending the same school and we are close enough for them to walk to and from. I have taken them a few times, and of course I will walk with them for the first few weeks so they know exactly where to go. It's not hard, it's pretty much a straight shot, but Banana gets lost walking around the block (I really wish I was kidding about that). Jelly is going to be attending the school that I spent my elementary years, and then next year he will walk with the other two. He is attending all day Kindergarten, which will be interesting. I am going to miss the hell out of him when he is gone... at least for the first few weeks days.

Pineapple is trying very hard to pull herself up, and she will stand if you hold her hands. She is getting more and more vocal, and she will give the other 3 her two cents if I am fussing after them when she is around. She still isn't the smiling baby that the other ones were, but you can tell she is content. She is the most easy going out of the 4 of them, and she is really up for anything. And oh... we have found out that applesauce is her crack. But that's another post. 

As for me, I'm going. My birthday is coming up fast, and I am really not looking forward to it. Normally I am all about my birthday (because ya know, birthdays are the ONE DAY out of the year that you can make it all about you, and no one cares. Hell, it's expected in this house.) but this year it's not clicking for me. 34 is an ugly word. I know I can't stop it, and I might as well except it, but it is honestly bothering me more than 30 did, and 30 rocked my world. 

Just a crazy little update... The Chef has to take the computer to work with him because his has not come in yet, so I am offline most of the daylight hours except for the few times I post on Facebook with my iPod. I hate being disconnected that way, but hopefully soon his work computer will come in, and I can have our laptop back. One can hope right?

Soon, we will be having a conversation about the law against nature, for cryin' out loud it's 90 degrees outside, hockey. Banana has skater legs already and Butter is taking on a new position. He seems to have a knack for it, and I don't have to push him to practice... but more on that later... 

This was hastly, and not a bit elegant... and I didn't get to play with words like I usually do, but I hear The Chef's alarm clock going off...