'Seven Songs' for our Prom

I've been tagged...I was waiting patiently to be tagged for this one...Thank you MammaLee!

Guidelines: List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what they are. They must be songs you are presently enjoying. Then tag seven other people to see what they’re listening to.

So. Where do I begin? With Prom here and all...Girl and I have been listening to songs we really like to shake our groove thang to.

1. Blackbird by the Beatles. We listen to this every night at bedtime and Girl likes to play and say, "What's the name of this song? Red Pidgeon?" And we come up with all the combinations we can think of for birds and their colors. (Green Parrot, Orange Flamingo...it's a hoot)

2. Hair from the Soundtrack to the Broadway Production. Girl lurves when I sing..."Let it fly in the breeze and get caught in the trees, a home for the fleas in my hair...A home for my fleas, a hive for the buzzin' bees...Here baby, there mamma, everywhere daddy daddy...HAIR!"

3. Catch the Moon by Elizabeth Mitchell and Lisa Loeb. Girl's favorite song of all time and we have been dancing to it for 'Prom'! I love the lyrics and I love the way Girl's face lights up when she hears the opening strum of the guitar.

4. Read My Mind the Killers. I love this song and can't get enough. I love the line; "Cause I don't shine if you don't shine." It just fills me up.

5. Heaven Can Wait by Meatloaf...Seems I always get this song in my recurring play list this time of year. I spent many a day and night listening to this album in 1989.

6. Shake Your Bon Bon by Ricky Martin. Who can't get up to dance for this song....? And what a Bon Bon Girl can shake!

7. As Far As the Eye Can See by TNT. I can't get this one off my iPod either. There's just a feeling of serene I get when I hear this song. It has touched me that way from the first time I ever heard it.

So there you have it. Our Prom play list this weekend. We're dancing and singin...But I'm still trying to get some pictures done...

Tag, you're it. Prom goers: Danger Doll, Karaoke Diva, WhyMommy, Plain Jane Mom, Don't take the Repeats, The Dead Letters, The Rantings of Deb....Nice to meet you all...

Regrets, I've had a few...

But missing my prom was certainly not one of them.

I'm still not sure what makes this gorgeous woman think I'd have fun this time around???

But hey, she is the first person ever to actually ask me to go to the prom. I hope she'll be my pseudo date. And I just know SF will jump at the chance to dress up and go dancin'!

When I was 18, prom time, I had been getting ready for the 1 year anniversary of my Mother's death to breast cancer. I had my head in the clouds and my feet as far from reality as I could dig them. I had been out of high school for a year already and just earned my GED. I was brainlessly working in Kennedy Airport to fill some time. I was miserable. Depressed. And to top it all off, my boyfriend just broke up with me. Anus.

Prom was the last thing on my mind.

I didn't miss getting ready for the prom. I couldn't focus anyway. I didn't miss getting my hair done. I didn't have the money to do it. I didn't miss buying a frilly dress. I never wore those anyway. I didn't miss dancing to Bon Jovi's "I'll Be There For You" with my so-called boyfriend because I couldn't be there for myself let alone another human being. And I certainly didn't miss the people in High School. They could all rot in hell for all I care. Even today. What douchebags.

I did miss my Mom.

I spent a lot of that time partying at bars and going to the beach and hanging out and sometimes, occasionally dabbling in the wacky tobaccy. Prom was so out of my range of consciousness. It never once crossed my thoughtless mind to go to prom. Who would I even go with? I hated the 'boy', I hated the other kids there...the ones I did hang out with were too stoned to actually prepare for the prom so they didn't go either. I hated life. What would prom do for me?

That actual night, I vaguely remember going to see some friends play in their band at the local bar and hanging out with Bud(wiser). That's what I think I did on prom night. I'm still not too sure. If you asked me what my life was like back then, the only answer I could give you was: lost. The memories don't return to me until about age 23. That time I think I could safely say, I remember well. Before then, a total blur.

I still get sad when I think about all that time wasted and unused. I could have been something special if I just put my mind to it. But I was filled with fear, sadness and worst of all, grief for the loss of the only woman who could ever love me that deeply. Never again did I think I'd return to this world sane. I still have my doubts.

So Mamma, thank you for inviting me to your prom, because it is the only one I've ever been to, emotionally, spiritually or physically. I will try not to be a downer. And I don't have any pictures, but maybe SF and I will scrounge some up for the occasion. We do like to dance around in the living room.

Party on Wayne, Party on Garth.

Girl of the Year

I am making a special award just for my little lady!

We took her to the gastroenterologist yesterday to basically discover what we already know. She's constipated. And pretty much always will be unless her system is maintained by some sort of fiber/laxative combo. Thank you, genetics.

I love this man, by the way. He has been her gastro since she's born. And he just oozes sincerity and calm. He is very optimistic that with our new cocktail of treats to regulate her 'movements', she will be potty trained by the summer and switched over to a fiber supplement that will keep her 'going' for a long while. Poor kid. I hope she never has to read this one when she's a grown woman. How embarrassing.

So, in order to rule out other intestinal allergies such as celiac disease we had to give blood. No, let me rephrase that, SHE had to give blood. Give h.e.r blood. To a gigantic but sweet as honey nurse named Donna. Who called her arms "marshmallow arms". Sweet, yummy marshmallows. Delicious, squishy marshmallows.

Marshmallows.

This kid was a trooper!

She screamed and cried to make Donna stop and she made sure to tell Donna that she wasn't sick and she was feeling better and that she didn't need to test her. But she sat still. She let me hold her and rub her head. She let Donna 'milk' the blood out of her wrist while I squeezed it because she couldn't find a vein in her marshmallow arm. She sat and let the job get done. Like a big girl. While Daddy had convulsions in the corner of the room.

So for that. She gets this award. Especially made by Mamma.

My brave little lady. I am so proud of you.
We'll fix those intestines if it's the last thing I ever do.

Whatta kid!

The birthday party on Saturday was amazing!
Wait, the party itself...just okay.
My kid at the party, outstanding.

She goes to gym class there once a week so she was comfortable with the place. Then, it was all her friends from school there so she was extra comfy in her surroundings. God, I love seeing her have fun. She ran and danced and jumped and tumbled her little heart out. I loved it.

She interacted with a few kids there, but mainly it was just nice seeing her talk to the teachers and have a ball. She tried new things and excelled in the usual stuff like playing catch. She really enjoyed herself.

She was excited to be there too. A new one in our family as well.

She wanted to wear a frilly party dress to the party and I denied her the privilege. I felt like a real blue meanie but it was gym class...she can NOT go there all decked out. How would she run around? So we compromised, but I saw myself 10 years from now fighting with her about her clothes..it's not a pretty sight. I can assure you.

The only thing she didn't want to do was take the group picture with all of her friends. Oh, and eat the pizza...she walked into the party room for dinner and loudly exclaimed, "That pizza is NOT for me!"

She did love the goody bag from the birthday girl complete with a shiny, red balloon that I so mercilessly let escape as we were getting into the car. Oh! Devastation! I thought I was gonna cry right along with her. What a terrible Mom I am. But I did go back and get her another one through all the tears and screaming and losing it all!

So, all in all it was a complete success. With a few glitches that you have to expect with a three year old and a butterfingered Mother.

She rode her tricycle this weekend for the first time.
Thankfully the weather was beautiful! Finally!
What a treat for her!

And I had to share this one of her and Daddy on the see-saw!
How sexy is the father of your child on a friggin' see-saw???

Girl at large

We met Girl's new pediatrician(s) last night. What wonderful women. The only male doctor in the practice couldn't make it to the consult but that's okay. I loved these two women.

Dr. L was strong yet lovable with Girl and Dr. K was so sweet, I couldn't take it. We made a point to express our concerns and issues that we had with Dr. Anus and we told them that really the only thing we wanted was a practice that accepts us for who we are as first time parents. Silly questions and all..and their answer, there are no silly questions when you are a parent. Ah-Men!

Dr. L talked straight to Girl and expected her to answer politely, make eye contact and be well behaved. I was shocked at how well Girl responded. She pulled her usual, "I'm not talking" act but Dr. L didn't fall for it. She told Girl that she has four kids at home, one being 13 and Girl was 'nothing!" I loved that.

We discussed the potty issue and they agreed it was a power play because really all she can control in her life is two things. Potty and Food. So, she is acting appropriately for her age and she'll get it. They assured me. They didn't seem the least bit annoyed about her pamper.

She offered Girl cookies if and only if Girl said "please and thank you" and she offered Girl a lollipop after the consult was over but Girl could only eat it after dinner. Of course Girl fought it, but Dr. L just replied..."Well, then you don't get a lollipop." Plain and simple. How easy. I know.

And guess what? When we got home, Girl made sure that only after her dinner would she be able to eat the lollipop. I was floored.

Of course, I questioned my authority with Girl after the meeting because I felt that Girl looked a little bratty to the Doctors. But Mista set me straight. He had to remind me where she was just a year ago when she wouldn't even walk into the new place without a major meltdown. She seemed confident and sure of herself. Bratty, but confident. I'd rather that. I can reform bratty, I can't teach confidence...

So, all in all it went well. I like the Doctors and I think they are a good team. I liked the way they interacted with Girl and let her know they mean business but were soft and caring at the same time. I think I'll like it here. I hope.

I can't seem to stop questioning my abilities especially after meeting with doctors. I always feel like a schmuck. But I guess I'll just hafta get over that one. Just like Girl hasta get over her brattyness.

Yes, I had wine when I got home last night. A yummy Pino Grigio. Made everything seem a little better...

We have a birthday party to go to this evening...Get ready everyone!!!
And thank you for all the fantastic comments with my last few posts. Damnit I swear, I never had this many cool people in my life before...You guys all rock.
**************************
On a totally unrelated note: This man is my new favorite. We watched the movie last night. "Is Nice!"

We went to go see my BFF's dog in "Day Care" at PetSmart while she's yukking it up in Las Vegas for her Birthday. This is what we found. "They having sexy time...is nice!"

Nothin' More.

I still hate my dog. With a passion. Did I mention he farts like an old grampa?
The Girl torments him so much that the new rule is if she touches him (read: torments him) she gets a time out. It's been working. So far.

We are meeting her new pediatrician tonight. I'm excited.

She has been a wild woman lately.

She's eating three full meals a day plus snack and sleeping ALL NIGHT long. (She's always been a champion sleeper) I think she's going through a growth spurt.

In school, she's learned how to ride a tri-cycle all alone and loves playing. But she still can't socialize with her friends. She talks about them all day at home like she's playing with them, but in reality she won't go near them.

She's testy-testy-testy but also holding back a little more. Mista and I talked last night for a millisecond before bed and thought that maybe she realizes that her baby days are over and feels a little insecure about it. She knows she's gaining more independence and in the meantime she's gaining more fears than ever. And she's always been an anxious kidlet.

Potty time is NONexistent but she talks a big game. "When I go on the potty"....and all that jazz. But to get her to do it is a whole 'nother story.

I know she wants to. Just like she really wants to play with her school friends, but something holds her back from actually joining in. I have tried to teach her to join in, we role-play and all that and she's great with pretending...but when it's actually happening, she's not 'there', not capable of bringing herself out there. She just recently started talking in class like she does at home. Oh! The way she has progressed in other ares!

I sometimes feel like I'm doing something wrong. No, this isn't a pity-session...I really wonder if because I am so uncomfortable in these kinds of social situations I just can't help her get it right.

Before therapy, I couldn't walk into a crowded room without having some sort if anxiety. I never went to parties unless I knew the people there WELL...It was bad. I always seemed like the life of the party, I still do, but a lot of it was coverage for my hidden fears back then. Now, I just go for it and enjoy myself...mostly.

I'm still very stubborn and when I get my bloomers in a twist, there's usually no turning back..I can hold a mean grudge like no one's business. Just ask my family.

So, I really think she is more like me than I like to accept. Mista calls her my "mini-me" and I just don't see it...until recently. I truly think I am making her like me and some of that's good while some of that's really really bad.

Mommyhood is frickin' hard man. I need a drink.

Not really busy...

...I just haven't been motivated lately.

I have been reading other blogs and commenting and there are some really great writers out there. I want to hang out with all of you and drink margarita's for Cinco de Mayo. Next to you all, I am a peon. I just haven't felt like blogging myself. I guess it gets old. Who wants to hear me anyway?

Some things I've been thinking:

I'm going to take pictures of girl's old rug and her new rug. They measured her room. Home Depot is full of assholes so I'm sure there will be a fuck up sometime soon. Plus, they are coming to measure my yard for a fence. Oh, Joy. Plenty of excuses to fuck up there. Can't wait for the festivities to begin!

Spring has sprung. But I feel like snow. Cold and annoying.
March has never been a great month for me, not terrible, just long. When you are teaching in NYC, March is the longest school month without vacation and the teachers used to get very antsy. I still feel that way. Antsy. I am waiting for the nice weather and in the meantime I can't enjoy it in the moment. I hate that. Years of therapy have taught me to enjoy the moment and I have forgotten how to do that already. It hasn't been that long since I've been away from it.

My dog is eating my kitchen cabinets.

Here's what most of them look like:

Here's what he's done:Here's the dastardly dog in action:
(Notice the fucking chew toy right in the shot!)
Here's what's gonna happen to him:

I swear to all that is holy!
I am not kidding.
I hate this dog.
No matter how hard I try to like him, I just can not.

Then, there's the dust. It doesn't matter how many times I dust. The bastard bunnies rear their ugly, fluffy heads and attack. They are under every item of furniture and on top of every smooth surface. Now, with the sun shining in through the windows I see it more prominent than ever. All the areas I have missed or neglected are calling my name. Swiffer how dare you betray me! Dog hair be damned!
I surrender. The dust bunnies have won.

I've been going to the gym a lot these past few weeks and my body feels trim but older. I can't help it. I'm getting older. Older. And weaker and less flexible. I'm aching in areas that never ached and feeling it. Boo Hoo. Big Baby.

But, then again my "Hat Trick" is coming up and I think I'm gearing up for that. Therapy has taught me to face the shit head on and I think I am trying to do that this time around. It is just a scary scene. Brace yourselves.

However, I'd like to end this rant on a positive note. (If you are still reading.)
Girl is getting really into dancing. She is dying to take a dance class ( I don't think she realizes I won't be there). But she's been obsessed with dancing. Dancing all over the house, yard, wherever you let her.

"Red Ballet Dance"
by The Girl

She has been perfecting the moves she already knows by heart. And adding newer, graceful arms and kicks. I am so proud. I will git that kid into dance class if it's the last thing I ever do!

Erin Go Bragh'Less

Happy St. Patrick's Day Everyone!

You have to click on the picture to see the animation! Sorry.

Here are some interesting Links about the day:

The History Channel

About The Saint

Crafts for Kids

Irish Soda Bread

Green Beer

I'm not even Irish!
Too bad it's too snowy to go to the parade today!

Bundle of joy

Night Terrors aside. But thank you for all of those who have admitted that their kids go through the same thing...Makes me feel so not alone!

Fa has this new favorite thing. Which I have to admit, I love with all my heart.

After her bath, she likes to get wrapped in her special bath towel (one that I bought for her for Christmas) and get schnuggled in my arms while we sit in her glider.

It brings me a joy that I can not explain.

It reminds me of when she was a baby. We rock and sing and laugh and kiss and cuddle. I get all the benefits of schnuggling with a baby but the added bonus that the same baby can talk back to me and we can have meaningful conversations...

I fall in love all over again.

I live for bath-times lately. I find that I rush them so I can have a longer cuddle period.

Just me and her swaddled tightly in her towel. Listening to some music and bonding.

Mamma and daughter.

The way it should be.

Kinda makes all those tantrums and night terrors seem so, so...insignificant.

Night Terrors

Fafa is a pro at Night Terrors.

The funny thing is, the only one who is effected by them is yours truly.

They are the most horrific thing you could ever witness in the dark of the evening when all is quiet. But she is unaffected, when they are over.

F used to have them often as a baby. We would always know when they were going to happen because her days would be filled with an abundance of stimulation and she'd be overtired at bedtime. She'd be cranky and fall asleep hard. Then, she'd wake up screaming and inconsolable within 10-20 minutes of falling asleep. Sometimes they lasted five minutes, sometimes 2 hours. It was that bad.

She'd scream and cry and stiffen up and punch and scratch and not be able to recognize us. She'd be petrified of BD where he'd have to leave the room because she was that frightened of him. Her pupils would be dilated and she'd stare past me and scream out. Just scream. That blood curdling screetch that you just can.not.stop.

Then out of nowhere, they stopped. For a while, it was smooth sailing at night. Full nights of full, comfortable sleep. I thought we were past it.

Then, they came back. She had three in one week to be specific.

The last one made me cry. It lasted about 15 minutes. She was stiff, fighting, biting and screaming but she softened as soon as she woke up. Popped her thumb back into her mouth and rolled over with her lovey, like nothing ever happened. She even has the nerve to ask me what I'm doing in her bed afterwards. Gah.

I am pretty used to these by now. I know what they are when they happen and I know that she won't remember them when she wakes and I know she is safe because she is in her bed and I am restraining her. I know it is because she had a busy day...but what I don't know is why the intensity?

Why are these terrors so extreme? What could her little brain possibly be dreaming about when she is looking into my eyes (but not seeing me) and screaming "Mommy I need you!" at the top of her lungs? Why is she so scared? What is she processing during the day that she's not telling me that makes her so scared at night? It is frightening. For me.

It's to the point now that she's bigger and it is more difficult to hold her down too. She punches and kicks and bites and scratches herself and I don't understand. Why the anger? Why the violence? What is making her dream this way?

She still can't remember the incident once she snaps to. But I do. It scars me. Deep in my soul. My daughter is that intense and it scares me. She's only three.

Real moms...are still real women

Emma, Emma, Emma....You tagged me and I'm it...But how can I describe real moms when I hardly feel like one most of the time?..

What is a real mom? The truth?

They were once living and breathing women with ideas, thoughts and bodies of their own. They sometimes chose this path into motherhood and they sometimes were placed into it unknowingly. Either way, they love their children and families with every fiber of their being but sometimes wish they could be 'back in the good 'ole days'...where they were carefree and blithe...for just a split second.

Real moms don't always want to go to the playground for the quintillionth time. Real moms don't always want to read 'Goodnight Moon' again and again. Real moms can't possibly take another chorus of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star without gagging just a little. Real moms sometimes have had enough. Real moms want to be seen as real women sometimes.

Now, don't get yer bloomers in a bunch! If you're a real mom you'll admit that this mommyhood thing isn't easy and sometimes you wish for some peace and quiet and a good martini. If you can't admit that, then you are not a real mom, my friend.

Just because we are moms doesn't mean we aren't beautiful and want to feel sexy and be allowed to have a good time without the kids. And by good time, I don't mean book talk. I mean a night out drinking and being flirty and dancing 'till 3am. It's nice to know you've still 'got it' when you go out. Instead of being told..."Oh! I knew you were a mom, I could tell by your jeans."

No one wants that. Admit it real moms.

Real moms sometimes want to sing..."Donchya wish your Mamma was.hot.like.me?" ...and sometimes we want to be able to turn someone on other than our husbands, and sometimes we just want to be left alone to...I don't know, to sit on the toilet without an audience.

But all in all, even though real moms do wish they could just once kiss a handsome stranger in the summer rain...

Real moms wouldn't trade their life for one second. Real moms will always go to the playground for the quintillionth time with a skip and a smile. Real moms will always read 'Goodnight Moon' again and again because their children are growing an appreciation for good literature. Real moms will take another chorus of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star without gagging just a little because their children are happy and healthy and singing. Real moms sometimes have had enough. But real moms have unconditional love for their children and they would die to keep them happy and safe. Even if it means they have to wear mom jeans to be comfortable.

You wanna tell me what you think a real mom is?..then, tag you're it.
But I also tag: Terri, Shanilie, MammaLoves, Marmite Breath and Queen of the Mayhem

AntiPamper Superstar

I am changing F's Pediatrician.
He's a dick.

I decided.

I can't continue to let him make me feel stupid for being 'overly' concerned about the ONLY thing that is important to me. And I can't let him continue to make me feel incompetent because my 3 year 3 month old is still in a Pamper. Fuck that.

I call to talk to him or make an appointment and his secretary is rude and obnoxious. To the point that I feel like I am bothering her. Oh! I'm sorry, did I bother you...at your job? (I am even having BD call to request her records be transferred...he will beat that grump at her own sarcasm and rudeness game by a mile...)

I get to see this doctor and he's so sarcastic (and I'm a HUuuuuuGe fan of sarcasm..see hubs) that I feel belittled. I'm all for sarcasm in the right place, but don't use it on a first time mom about her only child. It's just plain wrong. No matter how strong willed or competent that mom may seem. It's a thin veil and you're tearing it up. Dick.

If there are any doctors out there, especially children's doctors...Just remember that your patients, or their mothers are in a very delicate state when they are with you. They are probably insecure and worried. You really should think before you say something rude. And use kid gloves. (Pardon the play on words) They come in all different sizes. I'm sure you can find them to fit you.

So, that's it then. I'm changing her pediatrician.

I already called my daughter's original gastroenterologist from when she was a baby and we have an appointment at the end of this month. One down.

In my quest to find her a new doctor, I have asked around and her preschool teacher recommended hers. Right in our neighborhood. She says he is one that will welcome each and every seemingly silly query with respect and humor. He is one that will welcome me into his office with caring and honesty. He is not one that will make fun or be sarcastic to the point I'm doubting myself. Almost one to go.

Take that Anti-Pamper Superstar. You just lost your best parent.

3:30 AM

That's what time I walked in the door last night.

It's a wonder Mista stays married to this dirty little stay out.

I ate sushi. I drank some beers. I danced.

The only thing I have to show for it is a major headache and this:











We're doing the 'devil rock horns'...You can't really see it. It's from my phone!
That's me on the right.
Blurry.
Yes.
I still am, thankyouverymuch.

It's like riding a bike...

When I was about 7 years old, I got my first 10 speed. It was canary yellow with a black seat. It seemed so tall at the time, and I felt so small...but what I remember most about that bike was the gears and hand brake. It had a black gear shift on the left of the handlebars and the chain-link would click clack every time I shifted it. The hand brakes were a novelty because before this bike, I'd stop my 'training bike' by pulling back with the foot-pedals.

I loved that bike.

I didn't know how to ride it when I first got if for Christmas that year. It was my first official 'two-wheeler'. However, my Dad was determined to teach me. I couldn't wait.

On the first nice day of that following spring, he took me outside, walking the bike at his side like a proud Dad. He showed me how to mount that yellow bike and he pushed me down the mile long dirt driveway at the front of our house.

I remember the dirt kicking up behind us like smoke as we sped down the long, dusty path. My tires were zig zagging through the thick piles of dirt in front of me. I was apprehensive. I couldn't get my balance at first. I felt like my perch atop that bike was tentative and I'd be spilling into the sandy mess below in no time. I had my Dad at my side, walking as fast as he could to keep up and I knew he would never let go, until I was ready.

The wind was blowing my long hair in my face and I had a hard time seeing where I was going, but I kept going. Eventually, I got it. After a few passes up and down that forever driveway, I was balanced and poised atop the sunny, metal frame. I was becoming more steady as I went and I was pedaling that bike with ease and determination. I was bound for freedom. I was riding like the wind. Then I realized Dad had let go.

As I turned back to check his support, my Dad was a half mile behind me standing and waving his arms with glee at the joy of his only daughter mastering a new skill. So proud if his girl. I felt it from where I was. His joy from watching me succeed. It was in his smile. It was shining in his hazel eyes. His success was balanced by my success.

I remember thinking, I'm doing it! I'm really doing it!

You couldn't stop me after that winning day. I'd wake up extra early to get out to practice riding up and down that driveway before school. I'd rush home after school and practice some more. I mastered the 10 speed bike that spring. I gained some independence as well. It's been at least 20 years since I've ridden a bike but I'm sure I could do it again with ease. You know the old saying..."It's like riding a bike." After all, it was that 10 speed lesson that taught me I could indeed do anything I set my mind to. To this day, I believe that. Thanks to that bright yellow bike and of course, thanks to my Dad.

I learned the Facts of Life by Watching the Facts of Life...

Not really, but I love that quote...from Cable Guy.
But I did love the Facts of Life as a kid.

I loved all the girls at the "Eastland School for Young Woman" in Peekskill, NY and I wanted to be them. They always made it look like fun. I wanted to have friends like them and wear the uniform with them and have their 30 minute issues and just be them. Mrs. Garrett was such a kindhearted but ditsy woman who loved all the students and really cared.

And Tootie. Oh! Tootie. I loved her rollerskates!I'll always remember when first Jo joined the cast and she'd get the girls to go to the "the city" with her. I was from 'the city' and I loved that she made it look so cool. I loved that she was a 'bad girl' at first then she calmed down as the episodes progressed. I think she might have been my first 'girl crush'. She was one tough cookie and I always envied that she drove a 'bike'. I loved her hair. Yes, I did try to master the Jo ponytail.I remember when Blair's cousin Geri joined the cast. I was amazed by her strength and sense of humor even though she had Cerebral Palsy. And I always resented Blair for the way she treated her in the beginning. Such a bitch. But of course, after a 30 minute episode all was right in the world of Blair once again.It's amazing how sitcoms back then made you feel like you were a part of a family. They were sweet as candy and lighthearted. Now, you have to watch half of the shows on TV peeking through your fingers due to the graphic nature and realistic issues.

I miss the good 'ole days when it was just that simple. Back then, they worried about kissing a boy for the first time and getting good grades. I do recall one 'edgy' episode where one of the gals wouldn't eat to fit into a dress for a dance...Talk about controversy. And they didn't even touch the truth about real eating disorders. They grazed the subject and fixed it within the half hour. Too edgy for the times, I guess.

Not today. Today they'd show a girl cutting herself with an exacto knife or binging and purging right out in the open. I'd love to see how the Girls of Eastland handled today's issues.

I wish The Facts of Life was still on TV.

call the bunghole mafia...in need of help here...

hi. dont tell them i was here...i need some help.

im gonna try to type this out fast because i dont wanna get into trouble again. theyre all out of the house and i dont have much time...my head hurts from all the beatings with the rolled up magazine. do you know, they put rubber bands around the ends of the magazine to keep it tight. well, it fucking hurts...those rubber bands. and i cant help peeing on the floor once in a while. im only a puppy.

friggin paws, how do you capitalize letters with paws? the question mark is hard enough.

as you know, i like to browse the web once in a while. i read a few blogs over mommys shoulder too and theres one blog in particular that I feel a certain bond with. especially today. jessica gave me a good idea today. she has this affinity for dana and my family does too.

you see, my big sister...they call her fafa around here...lately, she cant keep her finger out of my own dana. how humiliating. she is constantly jamming crap into it and all they do is laugh or get disgusted and wash her hands. whattabout my leather starfish? they dont check to see if it is alright. they dont wash it out to make sure the crayon is all gone.

they laugh.

and ignore me.

oh im sorry, did i get in your way with that marker up my ass...ok ill move.

so i need your help.

im begging for someone to tell these crazies that dog sodomy should be illegal if it isnt already. what do i hafta do to get some respect around here? i have had ass issues since i got here and they just dont seem to ever end. what is with these people? i think they bring it on themselves. i really do. they are obsessed with ass and i am stuck in the middle of it all.

and this friggin kid is a pest. just as i get comfortable on the couch i see the kid coming and i try to run away. i really do. i just cant seem to run fast enough. i dont have much space to hide. shes always up my butt. literally.

she squeezes my head till my eyes pop put, she yanks on my poor helpless tail, she tries to hug me with her clammy hands. then after she totally kicks my ass they lock me up. thats right. i get an hourly internal exam then i get locked up for it. does that make sense to you?

oh, she pretends to love me. yeah right. but i know the truth. she is evil. how many ass invasions do i hafta take before someone gets the hint here? and the kicker, they think its cute. they laugh and say awww look at dog and big sister...they love each other...holy shit. if only i could wrap my paws around her neck tight enough...then theyd get it.

im suffering people. is this what you humans do for fun? are colonoscopies a treat for you? why do i hafta hear her stomping towards me yelling im gonna put my finger in dogs ass...look at dogs ass mommy, its pink...no shit sherlock. its pink. and my poop is brown you know your colors genius.

im desperate. im asking anyone out there to help. call someone. anyone. help me get this kids fingers out of my ass...jessica...are you there...help me.....for the love of dana....

shit. theyre home....that fucking magazine again....gotta go....

Farfallina's thoughts...

"Can we go someplace special?"

Watching Lady and the Tramp: "I love when Tramp say-s that."

"I love kissing Dog on the lips."

"I'm gonna stick my finger in Dog's Ass!"

"I wanna dance naked!"

"I'm pissed-off that Grandma doesn't have Noggin."

"I don't want to eat, I want a snack."

"Mommy, I was very cooperative in the store."

"Can I talk to someone on the phone?"

"Look at all the snow on the ground that I can go out and play with in the front yard!"

"I have to poop, I'll be behind the couch. Don't come in, I need privacy."

"That dog is a schmuck!"

"Good night Mommy, see you bright and early in the morning!"

"You're so smart Mom because you know everything."

...and my all time favorites...

"I love you forever Mommy!"

"You're my best friend forever."

"I love being three..."

My arms will always be open...

Time is flying past me as usual and there are certain things that I will forget as motherhood takes it's toll on my heart. Things like bad colds, temper tantrums and snack wars will be a thing of the past as my beauty grows more mature.

She is coming into her own more and more yet, still she is enveloped in that shyness and timid nature that has been built around her. There are days when she'll talk to just about anyone who will listen and then there are days when she closes up, even to me.

I have recently had to pry her off the phone because everyone was done talking and she just wanted to keep the conversation flowing. Then, I have had to practically beg her to kiss her Grandma and say "ti voligio bene, tanto tanto" just one more time.

She is more and more difficult to read and my once-huggable girl has taken to taunting the dog instead of cuddling with me. It's okay though. Those are the things I'll never forget. The hugs and kisses. The unconditional love. The warmth I feel as I wrap my arms around her frame and I feel her hands pat my back as if to say, "There there Mommy, I'll always be your baby!"

I went to go hug her in gym class today and she ran right passed me. Leaving me with my arms gaping open and a bittersweet tugging at my heart. I was overjoyed by her freedom and self-confidence yet saddened by her choice to run away instead of fill up that opening that I reserve especially for her.

I sat back and watched her explore the gymnasium on her own and look back for me every so often. She knew I was there...even if she wasn't near me, she knew. As she ran passed me a few more times, she smiled at me as if to say, "Don't worry Mommy, I know your arms are always open for me."

And at the end of the class, she ran right up to me and sat in my lap. Knowing. Understanding. No matter what, I will always be there for her. Whether she needs me or not. I'll be waiting with my arms wide open.