notesfromtheminivan

Solanum melongena and I love you

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 15:55:00 +0000

Good Morning my little aubergine friend. I want to thank you for the time you have been sharing with me this hot and sunny Summer.

Although your father and I decided long ago that we were done having children. We had moved from Apgar scores to Abecrombie in the blink of an eye. Yet the yearning to give it another go became too much and there you are. You adorable little guinea squash of ours.

I want to thank you for the pleasure you give as I go out to visit you and water you in the afternoon sun.

You have never asked for money or a ride to the mall. You have never flushed your cell phone down the toilet or in a fit of rage yelled the "f" word at your fellow Burpee Hybrids. You don't sneak off to friend's houses to dye your hair pink and then cry for 2 days when it turns a dull puce after swimming in your friend's pool. Never once, Baba Ganoush, have you dressed up our cat in American Girl doll clothes or demanded we start calling you Mrs Justin Beiber. I have never once seen your thong purposely sticking out of your yoga pants nor have I seen your butt hanging out of your Hollister cutoff micromini super short shorts.

My little Moussaka, you look solemn and studious yet I often wonder if when you grow bigger only to spend hours trying to hack into the cable box to unlock "Teen Mom" and "The Jersey Shore" all the while ignoring homework until minutes before school. Could you text FML (meaning " 'F' My Life) to your friends when I refuse to purchase a $150 extension for your hair? Will you change your status to "My MOM is a BEAST!!!" on Facebook?

I think not Eggplant....I think not.....

As you grow big and plump E.P. always know that you were wanted and your father and I love you. We enjoy your quiet nature and your positive disposition. Soon the time will come that we will be moving you out of your warm, earthy homestead and into our place. Be kind to your 2 sisters, for they know not what they do. Stay away from the puce haired one with the soggy phone and don't respond when the shorter one approaches you with lipstick, a cat and duct tape.

Love Mama Ratatoulle

Marching on

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Thu, 10 Mar 2011 19:19:00 +0000

March in New England can be a cold proposition. 2011 has been no exception. On the tailend of a particularly horrific winter, I find myself in the doldrums of being tired of those wool sweaters I unpacked with reckless abandon on September 1st (even though it was still 80 degrees.) Like a junky needing a fix...any sign of sunlight gives me the urge to wear a t-shirt outside regardless of temperature to soak up some much needed Vitamin D. I miss the ladybugs who plagued my house right up until Halloween.

This sets the scene of last weekend. Off to Plymouth to celebrate a family birthday with an overnight to an old inn overlooking the beach. No snow on the ground and the smell of salt in the air.

Did my kids need sunscreen?-no

Could we go in the water?-no

Was it as cold as any other day this Winter? yes

But there is something about the Atlantic when you are a New Englander

Is it the way you feel when you wake up to see frolicking seals getting their breakfast?

Or the sound of the Herring Gulls mocking my nephews as they chase them down the beach?

Could it be watching your kids play with their cousins on a jetty daring the waves to splash them?

...and then watching them get splashed

I think so.....the salt in our blood comes from the Atlantic. No matter how cold the water is, its calming force washes over our souls with warmth and comfort.

For some it's the North Shore, for some it's the South Shore. It could be The Harbor or The Bay. Before The Bridge or after The Bridge. Upper Cape or Lower Cape. For some its the view from a small island somewhere between.... It's always there.

"We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch - we are going back from whence we came."
~John F Kennedy

Is it Time?

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Fri, 25 Feb 2011 19:52:00 +0000

Having crossed over.... I:

Take prilosec every day since my insides are too lazy to process anything important like yogurt or something more complex like....water

No longer get acne (hell it's only taken howwwww many years?)

Tweet (if Demi Moore can do it...so can I)

Drink Vodka...well to give the prilosec something really interesting to work on.

Am losing my inner monologue...but only in bed

Say "what the hell is that?" in most situations (noises, cars driving by, see above, reviewing report cards, designer dogs)

Am finding it more appropriate to lust after older gentlemen....I find myself saying "you know...that Robert Duvall is still quite attractive"

Can no longer "suck" anything in (other than perhaps a shot of Patron) and rely on outside forces also known as spanx

Say things like "she should be grounded" "what is she wearing" "where are her parents?" "she should be wearing a bra you know"...sometimes at the TV...sometimes at Hollister

No longer pay attention to ANYTHING...including this conference call

No More Minivan...now I have a Crossover thingy

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Sat, 14 Aug 2010 01:38:00 +0000

I have also crossed over into my 40's

I am crossing over into being a parent of a teen

I am just cross

but then again we all have crosses to bear

I am back................

What a DRAG it is....

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Fri, 07 Nov 2008 16:43:00 +0000

getting old..

And yes...I am 40 now. So is fellow blogger Kristine. Sometimes blogger Alicia is still in my eyes a fetus...just kidding, she's actually 10x more mature than I am.

So today I was "not working" at work, cruising around the internet and saw the following picture and thought..."oh no, oh no no no." Obviously not over Britney but Madonna. Yes she is in stellar shape as I could probably bounce quarters off 100 percent of her stealth body. But ..no...no...no, this is not a good representation of what the next part of my life should look like....dear lord make it stop.

The other drag about getting old is the other picture I stumbled upon and stared at for 10-15 min (ok half an hour) .

Cute E Pie. Mr Zac Efron. Yup born in 1987... So yes, as they were cutting the umbillical cord, I was in college doing keg stands...

Please don't mention this to my children, but I actually tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss him ....and then felt completely perverted.

"Coo coo ca-choo, Mrs. Robinson ?"

So, does a perverted 40 year old need a role model and start lusting after men my own age?

Perhaps....

Ok ok, how about Julia (role model) and Daniel (lust)

Election Day

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Tue, 04 Nov 2008 16:49:00 +0000

Happy Election Day 2008!!!

I can't help but post some motivational posters I found on line. Not to be disrespectful to anyone. They are just freakin funny. Anyone who knows me well could probably take a stab at my political views. But I won't be blogging about that today. I already voted.

Hopefully these photos will offend everyone equally.

See I can make fun of both parties!!

As I drove to the polls this morning saying to myself "I am a good American, I am a good American" (no kidding, I really do that for some reason, I do the same thing after church but substitute "Person" for "American"). I remembered the first polls I went to. 1976, I was 8 years old and my mom brought me over to the high school to watch her vote. My mom was a very liberal person and did not attempt to hide the fact that she was voting for Jimmy Carter. I am sure I was in hand at the 1972 election as well, but I was too young to remember. I remember at 8 years old feeling the excitement watching on our TV as the person MY MOM voted for was elected. I often wish I felt as electrified as an adult.

The experience did leave an impression on me. As soon as I could register to vote, I was proud to go to the very same place my mom voted and punched my ballot for Mike Dukakis...the results weren't as favorable as my 1976 experience.

As the years went by, I continued to vote as the campaigns shifted toward the younger generation where we would "ROCK the vote."

Like my mom, I brought my daughter Cat to vote. The first election that she will probably remember was in 2004. Little sister Cal was left with the hubster (prone to tantrums-both of them) and I gave Cat an inspirational speech about being an American from the captains chair of my minivan. Although she appeared to be completely unmoved by my speech she was happy to get a lollipop and sticker when we left the polls.

This year...I didn't bring them. I was on my way to work and did not have time to run them back home (no school today). I thought "eh, no big deal" "Cat is so nosey these days she will no doubt tell everyone who I voted for anyways."

Behind me in line was a dad with 2 young daughters. He let them find their precinct, took them in the booth and one of them held the ballot as he left the booth (they were too young to even figure out what the black blobs on the paper meant). Admittedly, I did feel a pang of remorse for not bringing my girls to a very important event.

So take your kids, tantrums and all. It will make you feel good and let them understand what being an American is about.

Mother of the Year...please step forward

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 18:17:00 +0000

Part of being "mother of the year" now 10 years and running was priding myself on the fact that my 2 children rarely got into bed with me and the hubster. After a short "ferberization" as a toddler, Cat was a sound sleeper and Cal just wore herself out so severely she rarely got out of bed for any reason.

Thus the extreme patting on the back for myself whenever I heard tales of woe regarding hard sleepers. I think to myself ...I am a good mother...I must be doing something right...RESILIANT CHILDREN=GOOD PARENTING

Not so fast...

Last week, we ventured to Salem, MA for a haunting good time.

We went to the Witch Museum, shopped and took in the local Halloween fun. I was very careful to make sure that we didn't do anything that would frighten the kids...

Then... it happened....I was in a gift shop with my 2 girls and I heard a "tap tap tap" on the window. I looked up to see a 300lb man with a bloody clown mask on and a huge wooden mallet waving to us. Like any good mother I took off as fast as I could across the store out of harms way....without my children. He worked at the store, but regardless...I did completely abandon my children with the scary clown

Then once I came to my senses and gathered up my children to move on to some more shops, we happened upon a haunted house type of area... I was minding my own business (I was staring at really cute witch hats actually) when a man dressed like a mad scientist popped out of a door and grabbed me and said "what are you doing" (no doubt another person in character). This time I screamed and went into a full sprint. At this point, my husband was there with the kids, but there is no doubt in my mind that it was every man (or child) for themselves.

So in conclusion, I realize that my kids are completely resilient due to the fact that they know their mom offers absolutely no protection for them in the event of "the boogeyman." Crawling in bed with mom and dad offers little comfort as I am the biggest "fraidy cat" on the planet.

I will take my mother of the year award now...thank you

~T

Hairy Situation

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Sun, 28 Sep 2008 16:06:00 +0000

Today during coffee hour after church, I happened to make eye contact with a woman who gave me a warm, almost amused smile on this rainy Sunday. She later approached me while I was in line for coffee to tell me that she liked my hair because its all "poufy" like Sarah Palin's. I was a bit embarrassed as I usually am when anyone brings up the painful subject of my hair, so I smiled and said "thank you." But unfortunately that didn't end it... The woman went on to say that unlike Sarah Palin, my hair was frizzy. At that point I decided to correct her by saying "you mean curly..." and she smiled and said "oh yeah, that too."

Painful subject? My hair? Yes. I was "blessed" with a massive amount of EXTREMELY curly hair. It was very curly as a child, then morphed into somewhat wavy, then after my second daughter was born went back to being curly.... not sure why, but that's just the way it is. And once we left the big haired 80's and spiral perms were out of fashion, I was out of luck.

"Yes, I know how to blow dry my hair straight." Is the usual response to hair dressers when I meet them for the first time. Not a concept I haven't explored over the years as I own every product on the market to do so. I can consistently straighten my hair well in winter when the air in New England is cool, crisp and most importantly...dry. But for the rest if the seasons, we are talking Shirley Temple.

And while we are talking about celebrities with curly hair. I can't begin to tell you the angst I feel when my fellow curly tops like Julia Roberts, Sarah Jessica Parker and Kyra Sedgwick straighten their locks. I feel so abandoned.... What I wouldn't give for poker straight, shiny, not affected my humidity hair. And I have given plenty as I went through a phase where every 6 weeks or so, I would get it chemically straightened.

For those of you who consider this a vain post....my apologies.

Its just a subject that is brought to my attention on a weekly basis. I kid you not...a week does not go by without someone making a comment about my hair....good, bad, but usually some sort of weird backhanded compliment.

Gimme Some FACE (and other news...)

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 14:36:00 +0000

Since I found My Space to be so totally immature for a woman in her (cough cough) 40's, I have been feeling at a loss. How will I distract myself from my job, how will I be able to peek into other people's lives, how will I let people peek into my life and lastly how can I be absolutely certain that I am doing better than some of my ex boyfriends...even if I do have to (cough cough) embellish a bit.

The answer came to me from "sometimes fellow blogger" and slightly distracted co-worker Alicia...FACEBOOK. Oh yes, my latest and greatest way to add another addiction to my already fun filled life. I sent Happy Hour requests, play Texas Hold Em with people from all over and send Peices of Flair that are just tooo cute for words. I let all of my friends know what I am doing every moment of my exciting day. I highly recommend it. I mean how else could I let people that I haven't spoken to in 15 years know that I am bored or tired today or that it's raining. They NEED to know these things dammit!!! And the pictures..oh the pictures...the hours I spend agonizing over a pictures of myself to PROVE to everyone that I am aging well from the shoulders up (cough cough), that I have a husband and 2 adorable children. I have something to prove, I have no torso below my waist, I have had sex at least twice and the guy in the picture is the one I had sex with. And friends...just dozens.....I ratchet them up daily. Do I speak to even half of them...nope...but dammit I have friends. 'Nuff said..

Next topic....Greys Anatomy. Because I am too dumb to DVR anything and it was competing against The Office, I fell behind last year. From what I figured out on last night's episode I didn't miss much. However, a new and very interesting element was added last night. Kevin McKidd from Rome (one of my favorite HBO shows) is slated to be Christina's new love interest. Talk about Sex on a Stick, this show is turning into porn for women. Thank you, thank you Grey's Anatomy. 2 requests though, stop Meridith from calling Christina "her person" (we get it) and just get rid of Katherine Heigl (she doesn't get it), just keep showing good looking people having sex and I will be alright with that.

Ok, next topic....Hot off the presses from Yahoo Sports. The Phillie Phanatic caused a bomb scare by blowing up hot dogs outside of the ballpark. Fantastic fantastic... just had to mention that news blurb.

And a new amendment to my "Get over Yourself"...blog. Roger Clemens was "heartbroken" over being left out of the video montage of Yankee pitchers at the Yankee's final game at Yankee Stadium. You were going to get booed, move on.

POKE YOU SOON!!

Hope? Hop-ing? Hope-full? Hope-less"

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 14:44:00 +0000

No this is not a blog about the Patriots
Nor is this going to be a spiritual, or inspirational post

Hope is defined as: The feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best

But to this blogger...HOPE means one thing...

Hope Steadman

Yes of the show Thirtysomething

I am not sure why this show came to mind this morning while getting the kids ready for school. I was having one of my self indulgent Monday mornings thinking "is this it?" "this is what I signed up for?" And I thought of Hope Steadman... I thought as I had my 3rd argument of the morning "you signed up to play the saxophone and you are going to practice it young lady!!" Would Hope be having this argument with Janey?

I LOVED LOVED LOVED Thirtysomething. I thought I was going to be Hope Steadman. What cracks me up about that thought is when the show started, not only was I not a Thirtysomething...I was not even a Twentysomthing at the time. I was an Eighteen or Nineteensomething. I so desperately wanted to be a self involved, tortured mother who gave up her career for a heaping dose of Yuppie Guilt. I wanted to have friend's like smokey voiced Ellyn or funky Melissa (athough I wasn't a huge fan of Nancy, she was after all married to the actor that played Michael Steadman...which made her ok in my book). I also would loved to had a steamy affair with wild maned Gary (I know, I know that was never a storyline for Hope, but what the hell it is my fantasy right?).

Well the one thing in common, is I did marry a guy named Michael and I did have a daughter by the time I was Thirtysomething. But that's pretty much it. I was too young to be a baby boomer or a yuppie by the time I was Thirtysomething. None of us had great careers we were "sacrificing" and would easily have been "sellouts" for a decent salary. We weren't refurbishing old houses and listening to Van Morrison and talking about politics. We were staring at starter mansions, getting our first SUV and trying to drop baby weight for our 15 year reunion.

I have the feeling Hope wasn't stumbling around her back yard with Gary and Elliot on her 40th birthday either.

Perhaps I should have modeled myself after Carrie Bradshaw....

"But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of"

~Lord Byron

Yes I am

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 15:06:00 +0000

So I was re-reading a blog from last year, V is for Victory, where I begin my yearly debate on how involved I need to or want to be in regards to school, soccer and the other childhood events for Cat and Cal.

Last year, I volunteered for nothing. I sat back and relaxed and outside of the occassional "hey do you need me to steal some post it notes from work?", I enjoyed life as a hands off mom....sort of.

This year, at the slight urging of my oldest child, I agreed to assist coaching her soccer team. At the slight urging of my friend Tanya, I agreed to teach church school. At the slight urging of a 8x10 yellow sheet from my children's school I signed up for yearbook committee, 5th grade celebration and night of the arts at the school.

At the severe urging of my nervous system I woke up the other night sweating trying to figure out not only why I did this but how was I going to do this.

This week, I set off on my adventure of assistant coach. Guess what? It was a lot of fun, I was less stressed about coaching than about actually having to sit back and watch them practice.

Then I got a notice from Tanya. Church School starts next week, pick up your materials and be at the Open House on Sunday. Again, after a slight meltdown, I picked up the materials, went through them and thought...this is going to be easier than last year...but I couldn't put my finger on why.

What was happening here.

Then I realized it, I am a complete and utter control freak. I mean, I have been told by many people in my life (friends, co-workers, children, police officers, therapists, ministers, teachers, spouse...) that I am one. But until I sat back (after brushing my 7 year old's teeth for her and laying out my 10 year old's clothes for school) and thought about why volunteering (taking complete control) felt so good to me. I am a control freak through and through. It was more stressful to sit back and watch others coach my kids, plan events at the school etc... than to actually TAKE CHARGE myself.

So for those of you in my life reading this....I apologize....and admit....yes.....I need to dominate and control every aspect of not only my life...but yours as well.

BE AFRAID, BE VERY AFRAID

~T

Til Death Do Us Part

noreply@blogger.com (Kris) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 17:46:00 +0000

I love the fall. Why? Many different reasons.....but one of them is that I was married in the fall. On a crisp October morning at 11:00am, in a grand Roman Catholic church with a long aisle and a booming organ, I was married to the guy I met in 1983 when I was 15 years old.

This October, my hubby & I will celebrate our 11th anniversary. We met in high school but didn't become and "item" until he was a sophomore in college. We dated with our ups & downs (like most couples) and then bought a house together after dating for 7 years.

We bought an adorable 2 bedroom ranch in a small town in Massachusetts. It was an old house in good condition that had wainscoting in the living room, hardwood floors throughout and an ironing board in the wall! I had so much fun decorating & playing house with my future husband.

Life was simple.

We both worked full time M-F. I would get home at 4pm, tidy up and make a wonderful dinner for the two of us to eat together.....in our home......together. LOL. It was like playing "house". I LOVED it!

I burned candles, sipped wine, played music, entertained friends on the weekends & decorated my little house for each and every holiday & season.

We went out every weekend and dined in a variety of restaurants, stayed in different hotels to attend friends' weddings and danced the night away in the arms of the man that made happier than I ever thought I could be. And we actually learned to dance a real dance.....the box step is all....but we felt so good in each others arms and knew we looked good together.

On occasion, I shopped at Pottery Barn.....because I could afford it back then. And because I wasn't afraid of uncapped markers being left on the sofa or soggy graham crackers being ground into the fabrics. On one of my shopping trips, I picked up a trendy CD from the register area with a collection of old time music on it. Sinatra, Wayne Newton, Rosemary Clooney, Dean Martin.....

On that CD, there is a song that perfectly captures my life as it was back then. It is a song called "More" by Bobby Darin.

So now, in 2008........2kids, 2 houses, 3 cars later.......I played that CD last night while I was cooking dinner for my family and for my husband that had been away on business all week. I hadn't remembered that the song was on that CD.....I had only remembered that I used to listen to it a lot, a long time ago.

It gave me chills and sent me flying back though time.......and I am so very glad to say that I am still very much in love with everything about my husband.

Enjoy a glorious weekend!

Kris

Rules, Rewarding Bad Behavior and Get Over Yourself

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Wed, 06 Aug 2008 14:43:00 +0000

Just wanted to add a somewhat snarky blog about a much talked about subject over the past few weeks in the Bahston area.

Manny

We all loved him. He helped bring us 2 MLB World Series Titles, the first of which hadn't happened in 86 years. But I have to say...it was time for him to go. I don't think it takes a huge sports fan to understand the concept of rewarding bad behavior. So I say KUDOS to the Boston Red Sox management for NOT rewarding bad behavior. OK, did they turn the other cheek for years while Manny played by his own set of rules...yes. Did they make the right decision in the end to trade him when push came to shove (pun intended)....absolutely. The day of the trade, you could not put on any local radio stations without the news being talked about from classical music DJs to the local college metal DJs. So it was a good life lesson opportunity for my kids as we drove home. If you act like an ASSSSS you will be sent packing, no matter how good you think you are at your job. Cal had no idea what I was talking about...there are only 2 athletes in her life-Tom Brady and David Ortiz (Big Papi). And surprisingly enough, Cat understood. She was always a big Manny fan.

And 2 Get Over Yourself Comments (not Bahston related, not necessarily sports related)

Katherine Heigl

(I know this is old news) but every time I see her picture I want to vomit. Declining an Emmy because the material in Grey's Anatomy is not good enough. OH FOR "F" SAKE ITS TELEVISION!!!! I know with movies like "Knocked Up" "Under Siege 2" and "Romy and Michelle, In the Beginning" under her belt one would think she is a master thespian, but lets have a little perspective, it's not the Nobel Peace Prize it's an EMMY, and you are not really a doctor.

Brett Favre

Please go away and do something productive.....please?

thanks

Rant with you lata!

Eat Your Veggies

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 19:19:00 +0000

So.....

Every once in a while, I go into complete freak out mode and pick some "project" to torture my family, such as the following:

project vitamins
project laundry
project clean closets
project outside toys
project no TV

So I have recently decided that I need to revamp what my family is eating. This comes as a direct result of a week of hamburgers, hot dogs, sausages....basically any unhealthy meat you can eat and smother with cheese.

Let "project vegetable" begin.

So I decided to look up the Jessica Seinfeld Book Deceptively Delicious. The whole concept being puree some spinach and hide it in a french fry or brownie and "nom nom nom" chow away. Probably won't work, but like all other projects I will try it, torture my family with it and let it die a slow and timely death.

Did I mention, I pretty much dislike vegetables

OK, so I went on line to see the reviews of this book. I really just want to see if this will work or not. Meaning if I bite into a delicious looking chocolate chip cookie, will I notice the chick peas inside of it?

Wow, there are a lot of angry nutritionists out there.

"Shame on you for trying to deceive your children"

"You need to teach them the food pyramid"

OK, I get it, I get it. My kids understand the importance of fruits and veggies, blah blah blah. So do I. They just don't taste that great to me, unless I smother them with butter or some kind of cheese sauce. So, I will smother cheese sauce on carrots and give them to my kids.

"Gee T, your daughter has high cholesterol but her eye site is great"

And yes, I do give my kids fruits in their lunchbox and veggies at dinner.

But wouldn't it be fabulous if I could hide some broccoli in a Popsicle?

I ordered the book from the author that is suing Jessica Seinfeld instead (got less angry reviews). I will let you know how "project vegetable" progresses.

Reality TV Junkie

noreply@blogger.com (Kris) — Fri, 25 Jul 2008 01:09:00 +0000

I am ashamed to admit it but.....I am a Reality TV Junkie. Especially American Idol! I love to watch all of those shows that invite people to display their lives to the rest of us while we sit safe & sound in the comforts of our own homes.

Trish joins me occasionally...okay, more than occasionally...as I laugh out loud at the tone deaf souls of the world that thank Simon Cowell for his words of wisdom after they have made sounds only dogs can hear.

I love it!!! It absolutely cracks me up!!

It drives Trish nuts how I love to watch those people go down in flames! I am truly a nice person....I don't kick animals and I help old ladies cross the street. Really! For some reason, I just love watching all of the "rejects" on American Idol!! Trish says it almost makes her feel uncomfortable to see them get shot down after their auditions. I say....if they will sing it, I will watch it!

So my Aunt sent me a shocker from the British Version of American Idol......

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1k08yxu57NA

I also watch for the really, really good singers too! Enjoy!!

Coming Home Again-Back from the Beach

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 21:42:00 +0000

My first thought today was to tell my tale of the beautiful week I spent at Cape Cod or the pit in my stomach I felt when I realized it was Friday and I needed to start the chore of packing my bags and cleaning the cottage.

But I decided it would be nice to talk about coming home again.

I know, I have only been away a week and I am a huge proponent of travel (although I haven't traveled extensively).

It started to happen as we crossed the Sagamore Bridge and we said goodbye to Cape Cod.

For the first time in a long time, I longed to be in my house.

I saw my first sign for route 495 and the pangs of leaving the lovely Cape started to go away. Although I had at least 8 loads of laundry, 75 emails to go through, dead geraniums and an angry cat to contend with, I was looking forward to my little house on the lane.

This was re-enforced today, when my little family went to our little church, fanned ourselves with the programs and ate watermelon with the minister at coffee hour. Then we went for a walk to a local farm up the street where a wedding was held just yesterday and the tulle markers were still up on the apple trees. Cal bought a pint of fresh blueberries and I bought a strawberry rhubarb pie. An old farmer tipped his hat at us on the way out as we walked home with our treasure. As I tried to revive some of my annuals, I can hear my older daughter Cat sharing pre-teen secrets with my neighbor's daughter, their painted toenails shining beneath July tanned legs.

As my Cape T-Shirt says "Life is Good"

Carpe Diem!!!!

Enjoy Summer wherever you are!!

There is no place like home!!!

Last Man Standing

noreply@blogger.com (Kris) — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 11:15:00 +0000

And then there were 7.....

Three cheers to the 7 that remained at 3am in Trish's backyard at the conclusion of the Event of the Year on Rona Lane...Trish's 40th birthday party bash!

I am sure that when Trish's head stops pounding today....or even tomorrow....she will post a story & some pictures and tell you, like only she can do, about all of the party happenings.

In the mean time.....

HAPPY 40TH BIRTHDAY TRISH!

Love, KC

Boston You're My Home

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 16:10:00 +0000

As you know I am a New England sports fan, born and raised. I often blog about the Red Sox and my silence after the Superbowl this year probably spoke volumes and perhaps it was a bit two faced of me. Lets face it, I am a big baby... pun intended

Let me say this. Each sports team that I celebrate (or curse) represents fond memories of my childhood. Being raised in an almost all male house (with the exception of my tomboy mom), I learned about Boston sports at a very young age. One of the biggest bonding moments with my father was at the old Boston Garden. Or should I say The Gahden. Back before tickets were as big of a financial burden as today's gas prices, going to a sports event in this town was like going to McDonalds.

That being said, I used to go to the Celtics games with my dad as a young child and watched the "BIG 3 " of my time, Larry Bird, Kevin McHale and Robert Parrish in the early 80's. So a hearty congratulations to the Celtics for winning their 17th NBA championship. Although the game was played at a new Boston Garden, seeing folks like Bill Russell, Bob Cousy and John Havelcheck gave me that old feeling of driving in my dad towards north station early in his red Toyota corona hatchback...of course no seat belts and he was probably drinking a Narraganset for the ride over. We would stop at the north end for some Pizzeria Regina and head in to the rat infested Garden hoping we wouldn't have a cement girder in my our way and watched the games. At the time we had only 14-15 banners for NBA championships. Now we have 17.

I love the old parquet floor, I love the accents, Red Auerbach's cigar, the pipe smoking leprechaun, the noise, the fans...the Celtics of old and of new. This has been a renaissance long in the making.

Can I be sad? or mad?

noreply@blogger.com (Kris) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 02:05:00 +0000

Do I have any right to be sad or mad??!!

This is a blurry, not so good shot of my old house.....my cute, little gingerbread house.

It was pale yellow with hunter green shutters, tons of beautiful landscaping all over the yard and a lush green lawn like a golf green. There was something blooming in the yard all year long except during the dead of our New England winters.

My husband designed & built the mahogany wrap-around deck on the back just in time for my oldest child's 1st birthday party.

Our bedroom had a window seat that contained a cushion with beautiful fabric on it that my grandmother sewed to match the curtains.

There was an ironing board that folded into the wall in the kitchen.

We sat on lawn chairs, ate pizza & drank champagne on our first night in that house.

The people that bought our house didn't take care of it at all!! There are junk cars (several) and a half covered boat in the driveway.....along with tons & tons of just stuff everywhere in the yard! The landscaping in the front doesn't exist anymore...it has all been ripped out.

I don't pay the mortgage there anymore but hubby & I put all of our blood, sweat & tears into this little home to make it quaint & inviting....and to make it......well.......a home!

This was our first home.

My husband proposed to me when we lived there.....

I got married when I lived there....

My water broke while I was standing in the kitchen....

I brought our first child home to that house.....

I rocked my baby boy at 4am and watched the milk truck deliver milk to the elementary school down the street.

I walked my son in the stroller to see the fire trucks at the station in the center of town from that house....

I cannot help but almost feel betrayed.

Silly. Things don't matter. People do. But my memories lingered there and I almost feel like someone has erased them now.

Boo hoo.

Did Somebody Say Punch?-A Tale of Woe

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Thu, 29 May 2008 16:25:00 +0000

Ok

Lets preface this story by letting you know that my pre-teen daughter is constantly embarrassed and annoyed by anything I say or do.

A few weeks back, I volunteered to help another mom serve cotton candy at a school event. I wore my favorite ubermom outfit, so I would fit in with the LexusVolvoEscalade set, and was on my way. After the event, my daughter Cat hugged me and said she was so happy that I helped at the event. WOW, that was truly a first.

When the opportunity arose to volunteer at a classroom event, I was ready to jump at the chance again. Well, by the time I saw the email, most of the food items, napkins etc... were snatched up. But there was a need for 2 moms to make punch. So I signed up. 2 days later, the ultimate ubermom volunteered to make punch as well.

So off I was to research punch recipes. The only time I made punch before involved Everclear, red cups and waking up in some strange dormroom with someone else's bra on.

The hubster jumped in and said "just get Hawaiian Punch and be done with it."

Last night at dinner, Cat asked what I was bringing to the event and I said "punch."

A look of complete panic came over her face......

"MOM do you know HOW to make punch?"

"One time Becky's mom made cookies for class, and Danny made fun of them and no one ate them."

A complete wave of panic came over me

"No worries Cat, I can do this"

So off again to research punch recipes.... Most of them were the sherberty stuff that you see at baby showers. Surely no self respecting 10 year old would drink that stuff. Definitely a recipe for disaster. Finally I found one that looked good involving lemonade and fizzy stuff. Looked good.

So I arrived with my punch ingredients. So did ubermom. So I made my concoction, enough tart, sweet and fizz to please any 10 year old.

Ubermom made the sherberty one that you find at showers....heh... (finally I have you in my grasp ubermom).

When it was time for the party.......they went for the sherberty one. But let it be known....there was only ONE ladle for the punch bowls. The mom's that volunteered the punch bowls forgot to bring enough ladles...oops

oops? I was losing the battle. No ladle for my punch. I've been set up

Cat bravely marched up and took some punch. Thank goodness she liked it. Slowly after the uberpunch was GONE, kids began taking my punch. But I fear I am not going to hear the end of this when Cat gets home today.

The two kickers on this tale of woe (the final blows to my ego)

the teacher blurting out to ubermom "this is the best punch, you need to email me the recipe!!!" (yeah, gingerale, cranraspberry and sherbert.... watch out Todd English, we got a chef in the house!!!)

And Cat's best bud, the one who had made my house a second home....drank 3 cups of ubermom punch and didn't touch mine...."Et tu, Brute?"

Now I sit home and await final judgement

I CAN'T WAIT.....

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Fri, 16 May 2008 16:18:00 +0000

May 30th Sex and the City movie....

Can I just share that I am their #1 fan...I am .....really

As a matter of fact, while I type this blog I feel slightly transformed into my own version of Carrie. Am I in a cool NYC apartment wearing men's briefs (season 4), typing away pretending there is a voice over going on "I couldn't help but wonder..."?

Actually, I am in my office, thinking about my list of "un-hip" activities that I will be doing this weekend (birthday parties, coaching softball, cleaning my minivan). There is no voice over, except for my neighbor across the hall talking about our slightly dull jobs. I am wearing flats, and not even cool ones at that.

So that being said... I will share with you some SATC facts about me

I feel like I am a cross between Miranda and Carrie.

I love cosmopolitans

I always liked Big better than Aiden and Alexander

I thought the season finale was PERFECT, I cried at every storyline wrap-up

I am a bit dubious about the movie, but I am going to see the first showing

I like Carrie's hair the best in Season 3 "c c c curly"

Favorite Episodes by Season

Season 1

The Baby Shower-How funny were the ubermoms in that one

best quote: "she 'f' on that couch she buys it" (Samantha)

"isn't that how you got the couch from me?" (Carrie)

Season 2

Ex and the City-Any episode that references "The Way We Were" is good in my book

best quote: "When did you stop calling her the idiot stick figure with no soul?"(Miranda)

Season 3 (the season where they really hit their stride)

Are We Sluts? First episode I had ever seen and I WAS CRYING I was laughing so hard

best quote: "you "f"ing bitch you "f"ing whore" (Charlotte's lover)

Season 4

The Good Fight-Demonstrates the best ever fight between men and women (Carrie and Aiden)

best quote: "No no no I'm leaving so you can knock yourself out with your shoe eating dog, while your puttin' on the Speed Stick and the Rogaine"

Season 5

I Love a Charade-I love when Miranda smells the lilacs and sleeps with Steve (huge Steve fan)

best quote "Mr. Broadway has to tinkle"? That must be the gayest sentence ever uttered" (Miranda)

Season 6

I think the finale would be cheating...its a given that the finale is my favorite, so we won't count that one

One-Again, love the Miranda and Steve plot line as well as Carrie's first date with Petrovsky

best quote: "No one wants to "f" grandma's p...y" (Samantha)

Thanks for sharing in my obsession

Will be obsessing more before the movie premier!!!! probably with more quotes

My favorite "toy"

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Wed, 14 May 2008 21:12:00 +0000

I need to share one of my favorite things...very Oprah of me...

It is purple

It runs on AA batteries

I use it at least once a week, sometimes when things are bad twice a week

I never let the kids touch it

The only time I don't use it is when my husband agrees to get down on his hands and knees and do it himself

It is efficient, I get the job done quickly

It makes a little humming noise when I am using it, sometimes it scares my cat

You guessed it

It is my Swiffer

To all the Moms in my Life

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Sun, 11 May 2008 15:00:00 +0000

Happy Mother's Day

To all the moms in my life.

The mom who makes me remember I had a life before I was a mom

To the moms who taught me its ok to have fun for myself, it will make me a better mom

To the mom who makes me remember how nice it was to have a baby nuzzling into your neck...and that all moms are beautiful (in her case some more than others)

To the mom who adopted me at 39 years old and makes me remember how nice it was to have a mom.

To the mom who stepped in and became my mom when I needed her the most. And to the woman who I proudly call Nannie!!

Note to Self....

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Fri, 02 May 2008 13:54:00 +0000

Dear Trish.....

1) Get an eye exam soon, particularly for seeing distances

2) Don't assume that every Subaru you see in town is driven by your neighbor Kristine

3) Don't try to flash the person you think is Kristine

4) Next time you go into the neighborhood where you flashed the guy in the Subaru, make sure you are in disguise

5) Clean the coffee off the dashboard that you choked and spit out when you realized you were flashing an uberdad instead of Kristine

6) Get a life

7 years ago this morning

noreply@blogger.com (Trish K) — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 11:27:00 +0000

After laboring all night in denial that my baby was on the way (2 weeks early). My beautiful daughter was born. 8lbs (I knew all along they had my due date wrong).

We didn't know what we were having. The pregnancy was so different, I assumed she was a boy. Moments before walking down to the operating room for a C-section, my sister in law grabbed my hand and said "you are having a girl for your mom." (My mom had passed away months before). At that moment, I knew she was right.

About a half hour later, she came screaming into the world. And low and behold, she looked exactly like my mom. It was as if she was sent to me to heal my very broken heart.

Unlike my older daughter who wanted to explore every face that came to my hospital room, she kept her eyes slammed shut and would curl right into me. She had red skin, dark hair and enormous brown eyes. Although she didn't mind other people holding her, she was from that day on a mumma's girl. She was very content snuggling in the nook of my neck or the crook of my elbow completely bundled up.

It was such a happy, quiet Spring day.

Happy Birthday Cal