ladies who lunch…

Always greet you with a friendly hello.

Pair purple Crocs with jeggings and a tutu and make it work.

Ladies who lunch always stop to smell the pretty flowers.

They also make their aunties run to keep up with them because they can and it’s fun.

Run Zoë, run!

Ladies who lunch LOVE to drink Shirley Temples especially when they are presented with extra cherries.

I can’t lie. I miss seeing those former neighbors of mine every day. But I am liking spending a free afternoon with ladies who lunch.

no apologies for the cuteness

With holidays comes adorable Easter dresses.

Bonus if they are dressed alike because what can be more adorable…

…especially when the darlings are at an age where they can’t really complain and protest. Actually at this age they LOVE it! So seize it while you can.

It’s a very narrow window of time when you can truly get away with such cuteness…

…and enjoy the total cooperation; because it’s fun that we are all dressed the same!

Remember that when the day comes (and it WILL come) when the kids look at these memories and then back at you wondering out loud, “What the hell were you thinking, Mom?!

Then you smile back at them because you have no apologies for such cuteness and you are absolutely certain that someday they will do it to their children too.

Scroll back to the top if you don’t believe me.

viva tutte le famiglie!

“No chemical offsprings and rented uterus: life has a natural flow, there are things that should not be changed….procreation ‘must be an act of love’, saying: ‘You are born to a mother and a father – or at least that’s how it should be. …I call children of chemistry, synthetic children. Rented uterus, semen chosen from a catalog. ..The family is not a fad. In it there is a supernatural sense of belonging.”

Thus speaks iconic fashion designers, Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana…

Domenico Dolce (left) and Stefano Gabbana at their latest ‘Mamma’ catwalk show (AFP)

because, you know, coming off of their triumphant Milan Fashion Week Fall/Winter 2015 “Viva la Mama” show, where they celebrate moms, motherhood  and the family, they are also experts on family and parenting…as two men who have never been parents…ever…are.

I remember when I knew everything about parenting and raising up children…I was 18 and I was certain a family member was absolutely doing it all wrong while dealing with their strong-willed 3 year old. Being the expert that I was, I made sure they knew…and everyone else. Fast forward nine years later, I was dealing with my own strong willed 3 year old child and I realized that I would have absolutely bitch slapped 18 year old me if she was there in that moment telling me what to do.

Absolutely.

Positively.

Sometimes we need to just keep our expert opinions to ourselves.

Here’s the thing Signori Dolce and Gabbana, you are correct in that everyone is entitled to their own opinion…no matter how ridiculous in my humble opinion. I am a woman in a traditional marriage with my darling husband with our family (which you apparently celebrate). Four of our perfectly wonderful children were conceived by us in the, ahem, conventional way, carried 8 months or more and after relatively easy, short labors, delivered into our arms. Our 5th child, also conceived in love, but by means of “chemistry”, as you define it by a man and woman struggling with infertility. He grew for scarcely 6 months in another woman’s womb (his biological mother’s) and as god, fate, timing or whatever force of nature would have, he, soon after his birth, became my child…my husband’s child…our son…our daughters little brother. Our son made of flesh, blood, bones, a brain, a heart, a soul…not a plastic child but absolutely a real child…very much real for the last thirteen years.

Your opinions, whether from the heart or flippant, I find to be hurtful and insulting. I understand that they are in defense of “traditional families” whatever that is supposed to mean to the majority of thinking people all over the world in 2015. Families today, in my neighborhood, my workplace, my city, my state, my country, literally all over the world can be defined as a mother and father and children, or a mother and mother and children, or a father and father and child, or a child and aunt and uncle, or foster parents and children…and on and on and on. Children are conceived in love by intercourse and in a laboratory, via IVF, via surrogate or sperm or egg donor. And children are adopted. While you have been designing and creating fashion for more than 30 years, the last 25 years as an RN in the NICU I have been privileged to witness the creation of more families than I can possibly keep count…families with straight parents, married parents, co-habitating parents, separated parents, divorced parents, single parents, gay parents, grandparents, adoptive parents, parents who struggled for years and years with infertility, parents welcoming a total oops in spite of the best birth control out there, jailed parents, addicted parents…name it and I will confirm for you that yes, those kind of parents too…all parents to real, living and breathing children…no matter how they were conceived…children, all part of a family…perhaps not your kind of family but still, nonetheless, a part of a family.

Yes, Signore Gabbana, we do need to “respect the ideas of others”. Here is mine…

A child conceived via IVF, born to another woman calls me Mom and is very real, very natural and absolutely my child. Everyone is entitled to express their own opinion no matter how ridiculous. But a living, breathing, loving human child remains, always, real…

and at 13 sometimes too real!

Viva il bambino sintetico!

Viva la famiglia!

Viva tutte le famiglie!

 

catharsis

Bill is home!

We couldn’t be happier. Now the entire circus can hopefully get a good night’s sleep and maybe eat a decent home-cooked meal. I’m not sure about other things like laundry and other chores around the house. Maybe after we all catch up on some sleep.

In the meantime begins the recovery process and new reality. Five to ten minute easy walks as tolerated and lifting nothing more than ten pounds are acceptable activities which means no working, yard work, Krav Maga classes or dog walking for at least the next month or so.

Six prescribed and two over the counter meds every morning and every night. Nitroglycerin if he has chest pains. The cardiologist also recommends a home AED (naturally not covered by insurance) and CPR for all the kids.

Going over the post cardiac cath diagnostic tests, Bill’s cardiologist told us approximately 40% of his heart muscle has suffered damage. She is hopeful with some radical changes and medications, we can hopefully see some healing in time. This include working on lowering his bad LDL cholesterol and raising his good HDL cholesterol with medication and Bill sticking to the dietary changes that I have already been forcing on him. Then there is the big one…the smoking. The cardiologist made it very clear that he must stop smoking. He must never smoke again. Bill agrees telling her that he quit smoking at bedtime Monday night and that since then he has had no desire or craving to smoke. The hard part, the hardest part will be once he is home, she tells him. He agrees as she advises everything and anything smoking related should be removed from his home environment. As he nods his head in agreement, I offer to take care of that before he comes home and he tells me to do that for him.

I guess he missed my eager enthusiasm to fall on that sword for him…or maybe he did not. Who cares! He told me to get rid of those f-ers!

I tell Daniel as we were driving down to Modesto to see his dad yesterday.

Can I help? I want to smash them with a sledge hammer! No, I want to blow them up with dynamite!

I guess he has strong feelings about his dislike for cigarettes…like his mama. I assure him that he can easily destroy them all for his dad…without dynamite or a sledge hammer.

You can’t imagine how cathartic shredding these felt for my son and me.

And thus begins a new day here under the Big Top for my darling husband and our circus.

Everyone, family, friends near and far, lurkers who bravely reached out, total strangers who don’t know us at all but perhaps know one of our children or a friend, my estranged brother, even our mail carrier who offered kind words, prayers, hugs, texts, calls and visits — thank you, thank you, thank you! You can’t even begin to imagine how good your kindness was to us all…usually during a moment when one of us, or all of us needed it the most.

THANK YOU!

 

photo dump 2-9-15 edition

I may not be writing much lately but I am taking pictures.

There is that at least.

Colds and flu season…sigh!

Bridesmaid gown acquired. Little sister will be pleased.

So apparently Starbucks and Match have joined together to help me meet someone? Um…no one tell my husband?

I might have a problem. Then again, most runners I know have a similar problem…worse even. By the way, I crushed that long run this past weekend and then I ate all the Chicken Alfredo Baked Ziti.

Actually I did save some for the family including Hazel who declared it all to be delicious…except the mushroom.

Meanwhile, not even her favorite, Queen Elsa, could wake up Fallon to come join the family for dinner.

Cavity inducing bedtime moments like these are truly the best.

And this. A Sunday well spent brings a week of content.

I sure do hope so!

Happy Monday y’all!