Like Father, like.....husband

I posted this on the Blog Exchange...But I wanted to have it here (home) too for my special men.

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They always say you wind up marrying a man like your father.

I never believed it until I met and married The Pro.

My dad is the coolest, calmest most laid back man you could ever meet. He cares deeply for the people he loves, has a hard time showing it, but you know it when you are one of those people.

He would do anything for you if it meant it would bring you happiness. He is selfless and giving and never puts himself first.

When Dad laughs you can't help but laugh right along with him because his giggle in infectious and his eyes always tear up when he laughs too hard...just like me.

As soft and gentle as he is, don't mess with him. He'll bring you down if he has to. Especially when it comes to his daughter! He's one tough cookie and was known to be a real "bad boy" when he was a teenager. Ooh, he was so cute!

I always admired him. Always. I have always felt a certain comfort knowing he had my back and I always knew I was safe. He protected me, sheltered me (a little too much) but allowed me to grow as an independent woman. Even today, I know I can go to Dad with anything troubling me and he'll be there to help. And hug.

He was a Mother and a Father to me for most of my life and I cherish his strength and perseverance even in the hardest of times.

He was the role model I followed when it came to finding my husband. Yes, I bumped into a bunch of 'Bad Boys' in my day too, but ultimately I married a man that has all of Dad's best qualities and more.

Pro is gentle and kind and sarcastic as hell. He is smart as a whip and sassy and extremely loving.

He would do anything in this world to make me and Girl happy. He is selfless and giving and wishes the world for "his girls". Whatever it is we need, he provides...no questions asked.

Pro is a hard worker for his girls and shows us love and affection a thousand times over to make sure we know he loves us.

He respects us as women and would never mistreat us. He shows Girl the right way to treat a woman by being kind and gentle and caring to her mother. We have him as a provider, protector, soul mate and father and we are the two luckiest ladies ever.

My two men are not exactly the same, but their motives for doing things and their gigantic hearts are quite similar. How did I get so lucky? To have such wonderful men in my life? To be able to show Girl how a true "man" should behave? To let her grow up with the best male role models the world can give her? How did we get so lucky?

Happy Father's Day to the two most important men in our lives. Daddy “Papa” and Pro. We love you both dearly.

When I was little...I used to watch this and always think about my "Daddy Dear"...



It always seemed like a conversation we'd have...I think Girl and Pro would too...

Hug myself

Went to the beach today (yesterday) with Girl. It was so relaxing and nice to be there with her while she skipped stones into the water. As I lay on the blanket, I took this picture:

Reminds me of when I was younger and carefree.
And not a worry.

I made sure to try to relax and breathe in the cool, fresh air at the beach. I made sure to enjoy Girl and her stone throwing and to tell her how much fun I was having with her. I made sure to tell her again and again that I was so lucky to be there with her and that I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the entire world at that moment. I took more pictures of her and her stones. I took video of her joyful skipping on the sand.

I just tried to enjoy the moment. Something I practiced very hard to learn to do in the past few years.

That is what that picture reminds me of. Enjoying the moment. The day with my daughter.

I had fun today just being. Being with my daughter and being with myself.

I am proud of my accomplishment today. Enjoying me. Enjoying my daughter. Enjoying life.

I hug myself today...

Family FunDays

Today, we saw Go! Diego Go!

I know. I hate him too.

But the show was phenomenal. What a joy to see! I loved the plot, the characters, the songs...everything. The mambo, merengue, cha cha and salsa dancing helped a lot too.

Those BoBo Brothers made us laugh and Dora even made an appearance. And she wasn't stuck up at all.

Click the camera had a wonderful solo and so did the rescue pack. His hip-hop dancing really made me giggle. I wasn't allowed to sing the songs as per Girl's personal request. So I followed her rules and bit my lip. It was very difficult to do. I can't understand why she hates when I sing those songs so much...maybe it's my awkward singing voice. I am a much better dancer than a singer!

I won't go into detail because you really should try to go see it yourself. It was similar to the show if you watch it and as the story begins, Baby Jaguar needs help to become the chief of 'Carrrrnival'...(Please note the tongue rolling the 'r'). The singing and dancing really made it a lively treat. I tell ya.

To top it ALL off...Girl watched the entire show!

She always adores the city and she loved Radio City Music Hall but she cried when we first entered the theater. She does that often. We did stick it out though and when the show started, she was mesmerized the entire time! The M&M's didn't hurt either.

I was so proud of her today. What a trooper. She was surely scared, but she toughed it out and hung in there with us. I always cry at a live show. Today was no different. And to see her actually enjoying it. Yup, the waterworks were there!

We also went to the aquarium this weekend. I love it there and so does Girl.
This year she was older and really got a chance to enjoy the place.
She luuurved the hands-on activities set up throughout the exhibits. She only wanted to stay at those spots in the aquarium. I knew that she would. She's like me that way...Very hands-on.

Here, she got to pick up a horseshoe crab and starfish.

Here, we fed the stingrays and they splashed us until we were soaked.
We spent the majority of our time in this very spot.

Us getting really soaked!Notice the hungry guy.

And to top it all off, we drove there in my new ride!

Gotta love that new car smell!

Happy Birthday to me one month late!

Yeah Baby!

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.

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.

Dinner and a Mo.......zzzzzz.

My darling husband took me out to dinner last night for my birthday. Yes folks...I will officially be an old hag on Tuesday. Send all sparkly gifts to the address listed in my 'loony bin' roster...(This is the week to celebrate my birthday..I always take a week. I start the Saturday before and end the Saturday after...Since forever...Wheee...)

Ahem, back to last night. We went to an amazing, top-notch restaurant here in the neighborhood. He had crab cakes to start and wild striped bass for dinner. I stuffed myself with mushroom barley soup and Ahi tuna. We drank champagne to start off and a beautiful Red Burgundy during dinner... The plan was to do something after dinner. We were going to park our car at home and walk into town to have some drinks at another local restaurant.

I never made it.

I was so stuffed and a little tipsy that when we came home, I immediately ran upstairs to put my jammies on and veg on the couch. My In-laws were ready for a late night of babysitting and when I walked in the door, my Mother-I-Law yelled at me for not wanting to go out...Who has a babysitter that begs you to stay out as long as you like??? I do.

I really wanted to hang out somewhere with BD and be alone away from home...but I was so full, I needed to sit down in stretch pants...Ugh. I'm an old bat.

All in all it was scrumptious. Thank you BD, for making me feel like the only woman in the world again! Thank you for always making me feel like I am your special friend. Thank you for loving me no matter what. I love you.

I think I'll go to the gym today while BD and Fa go out to buy me a birthday gift. I hope it's something sparkly and pretty...Ha! What do I really care?..If she made me a card and gave me a hug and kiss...I would consider that the best gift ever. But he likes to take her to shop for me because he says she gets so excited and tells everyone she's shopping for Mommy! Ah. I love her.

I need to work off those calories. So I can be ready for Oscar later tonight. Just what I need, more skinny bitches in beautiful dresses to make me feel old and dare I say, fat.

I can forgive but I won't forget

The apology has been barely uttered.

Years have gone by.

But you can't seem to get it out of your head heart.

The abandonment, the lying, the disappointment. The pressure to forgive a person for something they have done not even to you but to themselves. It still seems so fresh and so real. It's over, but is it ever really over in your head?

She is the one who suffered. She is the one who went through it. But you feel betrayed. You feel the hurt just as deeply as if it was your own.

Life goes on. Life happens and you are supposed to forgive and forget but you have this nagging feeling of abandonment and 'how could you do this to me?' and you try too hard to ignore it but it surfaces when you least expect it, when you need her most. It surfaces and you back away, recoil. You become aware of the hurt and the pain you felt when she wasn't there and you needed her most.

You try deep in your soul to let life go on as if nothing ever happened. But it's there in your heart and you can't let it go. You feel manipulated just a little bit and a victim of her passive-aggressive behaviors brought on by such a difficult life. Yet, you continue to pretend.

You are petrified she'll leave again. She'll do it again. She'll abandon you for good and then what will you have? Nothing. Again.

You will be left alone again. Probably when you need her most.

So why bother?

Because you love her. Unconditionally. And it hurts too much to let go. You can't say anything because, you are afraid you'll hurt her by telling her how you really feel. Even if it means you can't really trust. You have to pretend. Because you love her too much to let her see that you can't trust her. You love her too much to let her know how deeply she hurt you. Even if your heart is suffering because of her.

God send the only true friend I call mine...

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

According to theknot I have been married to BD for...

2,021 Days!

He claims I never blog about him...But he's wrong. There's this special post today (Valentine's Day) ...there's more but I'm focusing on today...

There have been a few posts going around out there about how you met your 'significant other'. I met my husband in a bar. Drunk. The two of us. I was dating someone else and wasn't interested in him. Period.

How I fell in love with him was a whole 'nother story.

After a few botched up phone calls, we wound up dating.

On our first date, I knew I was going to marry him. I just knew. He was cute, sarcastically funny (he drove a gigantic Lincoln Town Car and asked me if I wanted to sit in the back like he was my town car driver) and the color of his eyes just blew me away (they still do, they are the most amazing layered blue.green.brown I have ever seen)...

He took me to the wrong restaurant where he thought he made a reservation, but didn't (there were two restaurants with the same name..opposite sides if the city)... and I also thought his last name was "Prada"...I was wrong. Very, very wrong. But that's not why I wanted to marry him...He was not my type at all and he had a job. What a novel idea! Before him, my Dad called most of my boyfriends "Oil Rags"...BD was different. I knew I'd marry him someday.

Later on during our first date, I found out the final game of the 1996 Yankees World Series was going on and he gave up watching the game with his friends to take me out. (He's the biggest Yankee fan ever!) If you only knew the dilemma he was facing prior to our date! It was a war in his mind for days but I was none the wiser. During dinner, he was disappearing to the bathroom every few hours to check the score and finally he fessed up and we went to a bar to watch the end of the game...They won. I prayed he wouldn't kiss me. We just hugged. Relief. He knew what I wanted and what I didn't want even before I knew it myself.

A few months later, he took me out for what became our first annual "Valentine's/Birthday Evening". It was a beautiful night. A little chilly, rainy and foggy...but that didn't bother me. I was looking forward to my surprise dinner. I had no clue where we were going and I was excited. He loves to eat and drink good wine so I knew it had to be great. Turned out to be the River Cafe. It's in Brooklyn and I have never been there...too fancy for my blood.

I was impressed and excited. He was disappointed. I couldn't understand why. It was foggy and he was mad. It didn't dawn on me until we sat down. Next to each other, against the wall... with the full view of the Brooklyn Bridge spread out in front of us along the wall of windows...Except the Brooklyn Bridge was immersed in a blanket of fog and was hidden from view. It was like we were sitting next to each other on the railroad, not at a fancy-schmancy restaurant trying to see the gorgeous view.

He was horrified. What was the point if you couldn't see the main attraction? The bridge?

I didn't mind. I ate like a pig, drank fabulous wine and had the best conversation ever. I fell in love that night.

He tried so hard and it didn't work out and he was so disappointed. I felt so bad for him. He was so upset. He cared so much about making me happy and I wasn't very used to that kind of treatment. He wound up getting me their famous Brooklyn Bridge Chocolate dessert instead to make up for the lack of view.

The key to my heart.
An attempt at romance using chocolate.
Sold!

I knew in my heart he had snagged it for good and I was head over heels in love. That was a wonderful night and it was the night I knew he was mine forever.

Eleven years later. We're still here. Going strong. Some ups, some downs. Some joyous times. Some uneasy moments...but all the while the love is there. In my heart. Forever.

He makes me laugh when I am not in the mood. He cares so deeply for his 'girls' and he would do anything to make us happy. What more can you ask for? And those eyes. I can see "Home" in those deep blue/green eyes.

Every time she sneezes I believe its love....

There's something that happens to your heart when you become a mother. It changes. It gets tougher yet it softens ever so easily when your child smiles at you. It transforms you into this all-knowing yet questioning, emotional being that would die for her child. It envelopes your soul with a love that you never knew, until your child breathes her first breath.

The love is deeper than any affair, stronger than any feeling you've had. It's a romance indescribably apparent after you lay eyes on your baby. A romance insurmountable to any other connection you have ever had with any other human before.

It makes you a different person forever. You see people and other mothers differently. You see your own relationship with your mother differently. You cherish your mother more than ever and you pray you can be even better. You find yourself praying more often than ever. Praying for the safety of your child's soul, praying for joy, praying for time. You wish they could 'stay this way forever' then in an instant wish they could be old enough to understand why. Why you are so strict, so emotional, so overprotective, so worried all the time.

My daughter is three. She is so young yet, she wishes she were more independent. She is becoming more independent of me and I am proud and sad. She probably doesn't understand why I don't let her sleep over her Grandparent's house or why I yell at her for jumping off of the top step. But sooner or later she will get it. When I see that she can be in the slightest danger of getting hurt, my heart cries. It cries for her pain and for the loss of innocence. It cries because it will never get back these times and becoming a mother has made me more aware of the passing of time.

Time flies, and before I know it she'll be a woman and hopefully a mother one day. So she can then understand why I acted the way I did and why I hovered just a little longer than she would like and why whenever she cries, I feel it deep in my chest. Where my heart once belonged to only me.

You can't say 'No'!

Tucking Fafa in for naps is getting harder and harder as the days go by.

Since the crazy schedule of the past two weeks totally threw her off, she has begun to fight the nap. However, I can fight harder. I'm older.

Lately, she won't even get into bed for a nap without a major meltdown. (I know, but I refuse to give up so easily)...So, I have started 'schnuggling' with her in bed to calm her down. I usually only do it at bedtime but it works so well then, I figure, what the heck? Right?

She loves it, I love it. We listen to her radio, chat and hug, read and play kissing games until she grabs her lovey, pops her thumb into her mouth and calms down. That's my cue to exit quietly and tell her to enjoy her rest.

The other day she says, "Mommy can you schnuggle just a little longer?" and of course I respond with ..."How can you say 'no' to a schnuggle?...Just one more song, then I have to go nap too..." (She's great with a warning! and when she thinks I need a nap, she's good with that.)

Now, every time I put her in for a nap...she says."Mommy, how can you say 'no' to a schnuggle?"

And I jump right in and schnuggle away.

How long do you think 'schnuggle time' will last until she is off on her own and not missing it....I think I'll take them as long as I can get them.

Her hands are small, I know...

I was looking at F's hands the other day. I have always been fascinated by them. They are so small and perfect. When she was a newborn, I used to stare endlessly at her pinky nail. It was so tiny, yet so perfect. How did that happen? I will always be amazed, even as they grow.

Then, I thought about my mother's hands. I always loved her hands too. Strong and always manicured with colored nail polish. They held me with tender care but threatened when I misbehaved. They absorbed all my pain in one, fleeting touch, yet stood powerful in the face of danger.

As I was watching F play, I looked at my own hands helping her adjust a toy to her specifics. I remember when they were kid's hands. Small and soft. Like F's are now. I was always embarrassed by them because I bit my nails. So I made a New Year's Resolution when I was about 9 years old to stop. And I did. Now, I make sure they are manicured most of the time...But Mommyhood has a way with them. I only hope I can use them with tenderness for F like my Mother used them for me.

It makes me wonder, how my Mother kept her hands so soft all the time. She was a Stay-at-Home Mom (like me) with a penchant for cleanliness (uhm, not like me) so her hands must have been in water a lot. But they were indeed smooth and soft and caring.

I wonder if F will examine my hands like I examined my mother's? I wonder if she will think the same things of us as we grow together? I used to be attached to my Mother. We were together all the time, a lot like F and myself. So I was always watching her and analyzing the things she said and did. I took notes and use them to this day on myself about how a Mother should be.

Our hands may not be exactly the same but they serve the same purpose. They caress, they love and they discipline all in a split second. A daughter's hands become a mother's hands and a mother's hands become a grandmother's hands. They may not be together in the flesh but they are connected forever by reverence. Heart and soul connects us in spirit and our hands connect us with a single stroke. Forever.

I Remember You

Since I'm on the Mom topic. I feel I need to give some insight to her passing and to her past. For my heart's sake, I think I need to say this. Please, this is quite personal and I debated putting it out there, but I have to. (I feel better already...especially with all the friends that have come out to support me...thank you all!) If you aren't up to it...come back another day.

My Mom died of breast cancer when I was 17. I can't even tell you I remember the entire ordeal because I don't. I was too scared to live it at the time. I just assumed she'd get better. I didn't allow myself to hang around to watch the illness too closely. Besides, I was a self-absorbed teenager and at the time I thought I had better things to do.

I was dead wrong.

I regret not being there for her when she needed me. I regret not telling her how much I love her and wanted needed her to get better. I hope know she knows now how much I miss her.

I do remember some impossible to forget things. I remember her many surgeries to remove the cancerous tumors bombarding her breasts. I remember her refusal to have a mastectomy because it would take away her 'sexiness'. I remember the radiation treatments and chemo sessions that took away her soul and her hair. I remember that shower when she was crying because her hair was falling out in clumps. And the hair everywhere...I remember trying to tell her it didn't matter because she was so beautiful no matter what. I remember her wig and her hating it with a passion... so I drew a face on the Styrofoam head it rested on and by accident it resembled Kaity Tong.

I also remember the many hospital stays. The last one being the worst. The sounds she was making to struggle to breath and that cough. I'll never forget the cough. She was delirious toward the end and talking nonsense and I remember her calling out "Geronimo" more than once. We all giggled and teased her at the time but I didn't know then that that was her being called to the other side. I remember clear as day when I was leaving her bedside for the last time. I told her I'd be back later (who knows what I had to do) and kissed her and she told me I didn't have to come back. I thought she was crazy and I told her not to worry, I'd be back. I didn't know then that she knew she was dying and she didn't want me there to see it. I wish so badly I never left. I never saw her alive again. I regret that moment to this day.

I remember not wanting to go to the funeral but being told I'd regret it if I didn't go. I went. I hated it. But I'm glad I went. I'd hate to regret that too. There were a lot of things I didn't do back then being the stupid teenager I was. But I thought she was invincible. She never proved otherwise. She was tough and I thought she would beat it. But she gave up. She didn't want to fight it anymore. It was that tough. Unbelievable with her penchant for fistfights, I still can't believe she let it beat her. The only fight in her life I think she ever lost was the battle with cancer.

Why couldn't wouldn't she fight the cancer? I'll never understand. To this day I figure I'm destined to get it. If she lost fighting it, I just have no chance in hell...(BD would kill me if he knew I still feel that way) But how could a woman so strong in all aspects of her life be so weak with the most life threatening? Didn't she know I needed her desperately to survive?

Have I ever told you about the time she pulled a woman out of her car and beat her up because she cut my mother off under 'the El' in Long Island City? She totally yanked her ass out of her car and beat her to the ground. Two grown-men cops had to pull her off the woman lying on the street and my Mother still had the woman's thumb in her mouth. They had to yank the woman's hand away from her mouth like a rottweiler. Crazy woman! I still can't believe they didn't arrest her. I wasn't there. But the story lives in infamy within our entire family.

I remember after she died when people would tell me "I'm sorry for your loss." I wanted to snap their necks. I hated that phrase. I still do but I have softened with age and experience to accept it as no other way to express sorrow. My usual response was "Don't be. It's not your fault, you didn't kill her." That would totally throw people for a loop. But I was so angry and so rebellious because they didn't know what I was truly feeling. How could they deeply be sorry? The way I needed them to be. I know now that I am not the only one who has ever lost a parent and it is difficult for everyone and maybe people really do feel sorry for my loss because they have felt loss in their own lives. I understand that now. (My virtual friends here have taught me so much in so little time!)

I remember so much of my mother but then again those same memories are fading from my mind because they were so long ago. I can't believe it's been 18 years. I've spent more time without her than I have with her. I fear my life will parallel my Mother's and F's life will in turn parallel mine. I fear that I will also leave my daughter early because I am destined to get sick like Mom did. I was the same age when I had F that she was when she had me and when F was born I was worried I only had 17 years left with her...Unreasonable I know. But it's a genuine fear. I have a difficult time grasping that that concept may not be true. And I should be living my life to the fullest, but I am struggling. Hence the continuous verbal regurgitation.

There is a lot in my head these days about the past and my way of dealing with it (or not) and I need to sit down and sort them all out. I have come such a long way even without my Mother and I need to keep that in mind. I know I am strong and capable. My Mother taught me to be that way. She taught me to love myself because others may not. She used to tell me...no one will love you like I do so you better start loving yourself. I believe that now. As a Mom, I feel that for my own daughter. She always told me I was smart and beautiful and capable of following my dreams. I wish I believed her then, it may have helped me to believe that more now.

Even without her here, she continues to teach me about motherhood because I use her model as my backbone. I turn to her when I need her most and I find myself asking "What would Mom do?" when I need to figure something out. I know she is here with me always and I consider what she would think of my actions when I do something I'm not so sure of.

I talk to her often and I see her in my dreams, but her image is cloudy because it's been so long.
Sometimes she speaks back in her own way...sometimes I feel her behind me...(She always had my back) I remember her dark hair and her broad smile and her olive skin, I'll never forget her because she is in my heart, but her image is fading slowly from my mind. I remember wanting so much to look like her when I was a kid.

I remember when she used to call me 'Jane-t' (pronounced Jane-tee) and she'd write my name like that too...It embarrassed me as I got older but I just wish I could remember her voice calling my name just one more time.

Have a Rockin' Christmas!

Christmas day is here...Enjoy it with family, friends and Charlie Brown...

Ho ho hope Santa treats you well...

Speaking of Santa....interested in the Chronology of Mr. Claus?

...And Firemarshall Bill as Santa...

And because I love this song so much...

Have a happy holiday and a jolly new year...see you in 2007!

Cupcake Debacle

I made cupcakes (for the first time ever) for Fa's 'school' birthday party. Well, I attempted cupcakes a few times for Fa's 'school' birthday party. Last week, I tried them but I used a Whole Brand that was totally allergy free and and they came out like cardboard. I fed those to my dad for his birthday.

There are kids with allergies in this class so you have to be really careful with the ingredients. So I asked the other moms (who previously made cupcakes for their kids) what they used and lo and behold, they used a very simple method. So I thought.

Now, children, I am not writing this for prosperity's sake, mind you. (I am highly embarrassed by the whole thing) I am writing this to inform and teach because I wish someone was out there in internet heaven for me yesterday.

Those bright moms (I am being facetious) used Betty Crocker Super Moist cake mix in Golden Vanilla and Duncan Hines Creamy Homestyle Frosting in Classic Vanilla. Instead of a cake tin, they used a cupcake tin. Simple you say. Aha, me too. I even got Spongebob Cupcake wrappers for the boys and Strawberry Shortcake wrappers for the girls. I'm cool like that.

Instead of 3 eggs in the cake batter to bind and fluff the ingredients they used applesauce. Yum! You think. I know.

Well, none of those seemingly nice and helpful 'mother-truckers' told me how much applesauce to use, fuck you very much. I searched the internet and scoured the Betty Crocker website. Nothing. So I winged it. "Uhm, You can't wing it in baking" says BD. But Chef Tell didn't know either, so we both tried to do the math. One other recipe online used a cup of applesauce in place of one egg. So us geniuses decided that we should do the same. The recipe calls for 3 eggs. 3 cups of applesauce, you think?

Yeah right.

I should have known when I poured the entire jar of applesauce into the mixture that something wasn't right! But you see, I'm dense that way. I just kept on keepin on. And I was almost blissful in the process. I was a "real mom" who bakes cupcakes for her daughter instead of going to the store and buying pre-made cookies like I was originally gonna do.

I mixed with my heavy duty Kitchen Aid mixer. Uhm, not mine, BD's. remember, I don't cook. Ever!

And I waited 25 minutes for the cupsplats to harden in the oven. Nada. Needless to say I was pissed. Do ya think I used too much applesauce? No, I didn't get a picture of the cupsplats. I was too mad. By the way, I had just come from the gym that's why I'm not dressed up in my "Betty Crock of shit" apron and dress with white high heels. I am a mess and I don't want to leave the house again.

However, the things I would do for that little girl! So I sped out...again...to the supermarket for more cake mix and applesauce. BD was mad at me for drag racing down the block but it felt so good to put the pedal to the metal and zoooooom!

I bought another package of cake mix and applesauce. I was so mad, but I managed to donate my change to the Salvation Army guy ringin' his bell to the tune of "Here Comes Santa Clause". I dunno, he made me smile through all my anger.

As I'm speeding home, I remember...Fuck! We ran out of Vegetable Oil too. So I go to 7-11 to pick it up. Yeah, not such the great source for all your baking needs. So, I bought Olive Oil instead. Bite me, it was all they had.

At home, we try again. I found out that I should have only used 1/4 cup of applesauce for each egg. Thank you so very much Dummies. Finally, the batter was thick and creamy. And yummy too. All in all, the cupcakes came out great. And yummy too. There were a couple of casualties...if you look close. But hey, toddlers don't care right?

I had a horrible experience with a whole lot of cryin' over my cupcakes. (Sounds like a country song) But it all worked out in the end. Thank you BD for your help and hugs while I stomped around the house like a three year old. I know I misbehaved and I deserve a time out but I just wanted these cupcakes to be perfect for our little lady. And thank you for snapping pictures for my blog when I really didn't want you to. I appreciate your support.

I love you baby girl. I'd do anything for you!

*****Updated!*****

I think they were a hit!

Dear Baby Girl,

Well my sweet feet, you are three years old. Officially in 8 days, but you have grown in the past month like I can not believe. These past three weeks have been full of exploration and self-discovery for you. These past three years have been filled with joy, happiness, love and insecurity. But all the while my love for you blossoms. I am grateful for your soul and for your lessons on life and love. I am forever honored by your presence and I will always be unconditionally in love with you.

It seems like yesterday, when I found out you were a girl and I saw you suck your thumb and yawn in your sonogram. You were 13 ounces and oh! so tiny. But I could tell you were filled with strength just by looking at your tiny, little spine. We watched you wiggle and stretch and we fell instantly in love. I couldn't wait to meet you.

Your first year was very difficult. I had a hard time finding my 'Mommy Footing' and you had a hard time adjusting to the world. I was off balance and feeling very insecure about my new role as your Mom. It felt like it took the entire year to bond with you and have that connection that all new mother's dream about. I still regret not feeling closer with you sooner but I know it all worked out exactly the way it should. You were insecure, sensitive and colicky and so was I.

I was very sad when you were born. I missed you not being in my belly and I was scared and unsure of myself because I felt like I didn't deserve you. I felt like you deserved better and I was on a mission to find you the perfect Mommy. Back then, I wasn't aware that she was in fact, me.

I worked very hard to make myself strong for you and to learn how to deal with life as a Mom. The responsibility and fear is overwhelming and I wasn't sure I could do it. Especially since I didn't have my Mommy to help me. I didn't have anyone to ask. I didn't have my Mom to tell me I could do it. I was never expected to do anything as important as be your Mommy and I was scared I'd fail you. And all along, all I really needed was to trust myself and to trust you.

I regret the fact that your first steps and first words along with many other firsts were clouded by my insecurities. However, I am thankful that you taught me how to enjoy life and relax a little and take each day in baby steps just like you have been doing from the beginning. Our development together is astounding. I am proud of us. I am watching you grow and learn and break new ground in your world as I do the same in mine. We walk side by side and step by step with just the right amount of learning and teaching. We are a great team, my girl. We are getting there together.

Then came your second year. It was so much fun. We found our formula. We enjoyed each others company and had a blast spending time together. You were growing exponentially. You were strong and smart and developing so quickly. Your milestones were met...tenfold...and you amazed us with each new action and word. You were a talker and a singer and a fantastic dancer...and you discovered your body in your second year of life. You discovered all the fun things it can do like jump and run and play. You still play with all your might. I envy your enthusiasm for every new thing.

You realized that you are independent and smart and capable of many things. And you realized that you have likes and dislikes and opinions that matter. You figured out that you can indeed choose your own socks even if they don't match the rest of your outfit. And you yelled and screamed to make sure you were heard clearly. You discovered you love to be free to play soccer and basketball and run in the park and you can do it all on your own. The possibilities are endless.

In your second year, I was lost there for a while as your Mom and I feared that our connection, if cut, would lose me as a person forever. I couldn't give you up to others, I couldn't leave you with anyone else. I couldn't fathom you living your life separate from mine. But I realized that we both have needs and sometimes they are not for each other. We each need other things like Daddy, and friends and love from others to make us stronger. We need to find self worth and self esteem separate from each other. And we need to know that we are always there for each other, but self-efficiency is quite important in order to maintain a healthy and strong mind-body relationship. You, my darling, have taught me that.

You discovered that you are definitely independent of me and you are your own person. In fact, I also discovered that even though I will always be your Mommy and I carry your heart in my chest, I am independent of you too. We are not the same person and we both have opinions and ideas that matter and I love that we can share them together as 'sistas', but most importantly as Mother and Daughter.

You discovered that the world around you is large and filled with many different people and things. A lot of it frightened you and you were very shy and cautious. You took your time warming up in new situations (you still do) and you were very cautious with new people (you still are). But, my darling, when you were comfortable in your surroundings you sure did shine like the brightest star in the sky! I am amazed at how comfortable you are becoming in your world. As I am in mine.

You have taught me the importance of trust and love and understanding all while you were learning the same things in your life. You have taught me to trust myself in spite of myself. If you can find the strength in me that I thought I was missing, then I can keep it there for you too. If you trust me to teach you about life and relationships and love, than I can be confident enough to do it for you. I must do that for you. I am your Mother. Your first role model. The one you will love and hate and be embarrassed by all in a matter of seconds. But I must be strong for you and help you learn that no matter what, I will always love you and be there for you.

Your third year has been an eye opener for the both of us. You have finally found your voice and you know how to use it. You are finally more confident to speak up when you want something not just from Mommy & Daddy but from other people as well. You are beginning to understand that the world around you is very large and can be scary at times but you always find a way to cope with fear and anxiety and you try your best to enjoy your time wherever you are. You are truly a work in progress and I am so proud of all that you are learning about yourself.

It is difficult sometimes for you to have fun in new surroundings but you are such a happy little girl. You fall asleep singing in your bed every night and you wake up singing in your bed every morning. What a joy it is to see you enjoying life and being so happy. I never saw such pleasure in making up songs and playing with toys and 'imaginary truck friends'. You truly have this toddler thing down. I worry sometimes because I want you to be happy and I question sometimes whether you are. But when I see you smile and hear you sing, I know you will be alright.

I am not surprised. You always reach great heights with every attempt at something new. From feeding yourself to sleeping in a big girl bed to hanging out with family and friends when Mommy goes someplace by herself...Generally, being a three year old. I've found that you do it so well.

I love the way you get your own snack from the snack cabinet and hand it to me (always with a smile) to put in a bowl. I adore the way your baby talk has bloomed into full blown speech and your language is so mature and smart. You communicate your feelings even when you'd much rather throw your toys or your lovey when you are mad at me. And, you tell me when you are mad at me and the reasons why. I love the way you chasse and skip, never walk, all over the place. I love the way you observe every little thing and point out your new found knowledge to me. It makes me see things in an entirely different way. You teach me to really see things for what they truly are, not just look at things as they may seem from the outside.

You have become so loving and affectionate and I love the way you wrap your arms around my neck and plant sweet, sweet kisses on my cheek with a "smack". I love when you tell me that I am your "favorite Mommy ever" and "Daddy is the best Daddy of all time". You melt my heart when you say thank you and tell me you love me every night after I tuck you into bed.

You are creative and funny and silly and smart. You have imaginary friends and you are so caring toward them, making sure they are fed, happy and healthy and not afraid of the lawnmowers or vacuum cleaners. You truly care about their well being. How did you learn compassion so easily? How did you learn that being nice is important to others? How do you know when to use sincerity?

Thank you my love for giving me the best three years of my life. They are trying at times, scary at times and overflowing with joy all the time and I wouldn't change a second of it. I am in awe of you and your heart and your soul. Your smile and your laughter melts me to my core and makes me feel like I can do anything as long as you believe I can. With you and Daddy by my side, all is perfect in the world. You are my family and I adore you.

As I watch that helpless infant fade from your face and see you transform into a confident young girl, I am saddened by the loss. But I will always look back on those first days with fondness and joy, and I embrace the new little person you are becoming. You envelope my soul. I love you with all my heart and I will always take comfort in knowing that out of all the little girls in the world, I got the very best one.

The way I learned it.

When I was about 7 years old. I was in the bathroom with my mom (a usual occurrence) and she had "Aunt Flo"; she called it "her friend". I asked what it was and the answer flat out: I have my period. The conversation led to a woman's menstrual cycle and why we get it and what happens when you get it. Which led to "the birds and the bees".

Once again, Mom was real and honest and didn't use 'baby' terms for anything. Now, looking back I am grateful that she didn't sugar coat anything and that she was real, open and honest. I literally could talk to her straight about any-thing! One of the many of my mom's best qualities.

She used the technical terms for everything and she whipped out different books geared towards teaching children about sex. I have them still, I just can't find them. They looked a lot like this site here. (pretty graphic for a 7 year old) One book (that I can't find online) was called "Before You Were a Baby" by Paul Showers. I still have it in my basement. I plan on using it when the time is right.

I am all for explaining it the way you feel most comfortable. Some people find it difficult to talk about certain topics like how and why you 'do it'. But like my mom, I am most comfortable just saying it. (when it comes to this stuff) I hope when the time comes and Fa is inquiring, I'll be ready and willing to share the secret.

I remember moments like this with my mom and I miss her terribly. I wish she was here to talk about other things like being a Mom and family and well, sex. I am thankful that she taught me certain things but regretful that she still can't be here to teach me more. I always respected her outlook on things. I still wish I was like her.

I remember one time, I was in maybe 7th grade and I was talking poorly about some chick, I don't even remember her name. Wait, yes, I do. But I won't tell you. She approached me and asked if I was talking about her. I admitted it and said I was talking about her because I hated that she "did so and so things" (I think she was just a bitch) and not many people liked her because of it...even the girl that told her I was talking about her hated her. I was shitting my pants but she didn't know it. It ended there.

I went home that day and cried to my Mom. I was upset that the other girl, "my supposed friend" ratted me out and that the chick I was talking about had the balls to call me out. My Mom's advice: "Fuck 'em. Tell both of them to go shit in the woods and tell them to stay far away from you or they'll be sorry. And if you have to, get her down on the ground...they are all the same size as you when they are on the ground." Uhm, OK.

So what did I do? I did what Mom told me to do, of course. Was I shitting? Yes. Guess what happened after that? I was the coolest chick in the 7th grade (for a while anyway). No one fucked with me and everyone wanted to be my friend. And I didn't even have to try to drag her ass to the ground. Yes. Sweet Success.

My Mom was a tough chick. Once, she pulled some lady out of her car and beat the shit out of her for a parking spot under the "El" in Long Island City. The cops came and had to pull her off the woman. Mom had the woman's thumb in her mouth and she was biting down on it and she didn't even realize. She grew up in the Queens Bridge Projects and fought everyone. If you know NYC, you know the Projects. You don't wanna be there. She beat the piss out of boys and girls, she didn't discriminate. After she fought with them and totally kicked their asses, they became her friends and protected her.

I always valued her toughness and hard ass. I wish I was like that. I pretend to be, but I'm not. That's the way I learned about life. I hope I can be as tough for my daughter. I hope Mom's toughness spills into her, my toughness is flighty and unreliable. Our mouths are exactly the same though.

But I did wind up getting my daughter an extra lovey...just in case.
I told you I'd do anything for her.

Where's all the burp cloths?~Part Deux

Thank you all so much for your concern and care regarding my daughter's lovey. I wanna hug you all and have you over for chocolate chip cookies.

I am waiting to win this precious bid. I found out that the person bidding against me is someone I kinda know. That's what I get for putting feelers out to people 'I think' I know. I'll leave it at that. You can make up your own stories in your head about how I feel about that. Your ideas aren't half as great as the real way that I feel. I haven't acknowledged it yet, for fear that this person might be slightly mental? It's just a very weird scene. I am totally weirded out here. I'll just say, what mother out there that's a quarter normal would try to take away another child's comfort? Knowing full well how important it is...

I also came in contact with another woman who actually makes them. (I won't even say where I found her for fear that I might be sabotaged again.) She has four pink gingham burps that I told her I want...desperately. I am waiting for her reply. Then, in desperation and on the verge of shaking, I e-mailed Gerber and asked them if there was any way they could supply me with the actual frickin' burp cloth that is from their company. I am waiting for their reply too.

So, that is where I am at this moment in time. I appreciate all of your support. Thank you for showing me that I am not a freak and thank you for helping me see that this is an important object in my daughter's life that as her mother, I should fight for. I will get her these burps, if it is that last thing I ever do. Moms all over the world understand me.

Except maybe for one.

Chocolate, you cruel confection.

I hate you. I love you. I wish I could bathe in you daily. Go away. You are making me crazy. How do I enjoy you in small doses without slopping on 5 extra pounds? You are cruel, do you know that?

Now get out of here and don't come back. Wait, just one more bite.

No! Leave. Leave now. I hate you. Why do you do this to me? What have I ever done to deserve this treatment from you? All I want is some love and attention. And a little sliver of your tasty morsel now and again. Why do you tease me so and make me devour you uncontrollably, in chunks!

Just a taste and then be off...I can't bear to watch you walk out that door.

Goodbye my love. See you next year.

Missing Putty

I loved my cat. He was 20 years old when he died and his name was "Putty". He became mine when I was 11. I have never felt a love like this for any other animal. He was a black beauty with fur as silky as a spider's web. His eyes were deeper than emerald. I loved my cat.

I remember when he was born. I lived in a town in Queens at the time but my parent's owned a home in a town in South New Jersey. We were there for the last weekend in October and I was very upset that I was missing Halloween with my friends. I wanted to be a ballerina with a bright pink tutu because I had just started dancing school. I liked to pretend I was a beautiful swan dancing on the stage for some fictional ballet company that I imagined I would own. My audience always threw the most beautiful bouquets of red and yellow roses. My other ballerina friends would be performing without me that weekend. My entire sixth grade world was ending.

In our NJ home, my dad called me into the room where "Momma Cat" was waiting patiently for her brood to be born. After three stillborn babies, there was Putty. He was so small you could fit him into a three year old's palm. His back was contorted as if he was twisted into a spiral and his black fur was wet with the remnants of his mother. He was the sole survivor. He was mine. I promised to care for him until the day I died.

My life changed that day. I was so sad for missing my universally brilliant performance of Swan Lake. However, my new baby was here. He needed me. I was to be his new mother because his birth mother denied him of her love. I felt on top of the world. There was not a standing ovation that could take the place of this event. But I was scared. I was needed by someone to keep alive. What if I failed? Could I ever forgive myself if I allowed this beautiful boy to die? I was on a mission of love. I fed him with an eyedropper. I rubbed his belly to help him digest when he was finished eating. I cleaned him until his fur sparkled like diamonds. He was mine. I was his. We needed each other then. We needed each other always.

After 20 years of loving Putty, I can not imagine how I could have survived my teens and twenties without him. He was there to comfort me. He heard me cry and complain. He shared my pain. He took part in the joys of my life and he will be a part of me forever. Putty was very old. His bones began to creak when he walked. He did not eat like he used to. He had renal failure and blood issues. He got tired and weak and some days he just was not the same.

Never did I think that missing Halloween that year would be the most important thing that could happen to me. I was selfish to think that my life was over for some make-believe fun. I guess that is being a sixth grader. I learned a valuable lesson that day. When circumstances are shuffled and priorities are changed, life seems unstable. Even as children we should learn to stop and take life as it comes. We may find something wonderful out of the mess that we thought was made. I did. I found Putty.

Happy 23rd birthday Pud. I miss you.

10

Ten years ago today. Big D and I went on our first date. We went to dinner in the City and had a great time talking and laughing. He always makes me laugh...even today.

The Yankees were in the world series and I was oblivious. I was just wondering if there was food in my teeth and if I was babbling like an idiot at this totally cute guy. He kept leaving the table to go to the bathroom. I thought he had a bladder control issue. Turns out, he was checking the baseball score with his friends. The Yanks were winning the final game of the '96 world Series! After dinner, he admitted his sin. So like a good girl, (like a patient and understanding girl)...and so BD didn't have an aneurysm before the night was over, I suggested we go to a bar to watch them win the final game. He was ecstatic. I was happy for him, I just didn't want him to kiss me.

Ya see...I was gonna cancel the date that night because I was just not into it. But little did I know, he was gonna cancel the date that night because he wanted to watch the game with his friends. He's lucky he didn't cancel that frickin' date. He wouldn't have gotten another one.

Amazing how things turn out.

I love you BD.