La Dolce Vita

Holiday cheer

2006-12-09T07:04:00.000-06:00

I had to get that depressing piece moved down. I mean come on, it is the time for festivities and good cheer and rum laden egg nog. But I haven't even decked my own halls yet this year. I'm behind and just can't seem to get the decorations up the stairs from storage and flung about. You see it's been a bit of minor remodel hell in my house since before Thanksgiving. Nothing gigantic... well gigantic to the pocket book but not monumental in the Extreme Home Make Over way, just new carpet and some tile. This weekend is the weekend. It's the weekend that finally all the carpet repairs are done, the tile sealing is finished. Now I can move my furniture out of my dining room and back into the other rooms of the house. I don't know if it was the twenty-three boxes of books, three bookshelves, a couch, TV, and over various bathroom supplies in baskets or the inability to find a square foot on my dining room table to actually eat at that caused me to breath into a paper bag. But the thought of adding tinsel and lights to that caucophony was enough to send me into a full panic attack and make me want to run down the street screaming and pulling my hair out.

I'm breathing. In/out...In/out...

Ok, I'm better. Baby steps.

#1 move the furniture back into rooms... then put up the tree.

The tree. The Christmas tree, that is what I really wanted to blog about. One of my favorite things at Christmas time when I was growing up was the fresh pine tree decorated in my mom's forbidden living room. As a kid you were sure that if you dared go in that some silent alarm would go off alerting your mother and resulting in a boomerang shoe coming around the corner to knock you flat in your tracks. If the silent alarm didn't go off then the carpet would give you away because of the perfect vacuum lines in the shag carpet any trespass would leave the trail of your footmarks that wouldn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure out "Who done it". Except at Christmas time, then you could step into the gold speckled living room and even though I always expected to hear a heavenly host sing as I crossed the threshold it never happened. At Christmas time the silent alarm was off and the carpet well traveled, my brother, sister and I would go in there to stare at the kaleidoscope of colors and lights that seemed to mesmerize you on the tree. Some of my fondest childhood memories are of Christmas time, sitting in the forbidden room.

Though I can't think of one room in the house where my children don't crawl, climb or reside I still want them to have the magic of that Christmas tree. I guess because my kids only have one childhood and I want to provide them lots of opportunities for memories besides ones of me asking 1 billion times if they've brushed their teeth or aimed in the toilet.

Happy Holidays!

Mourning a friend

2006-11-13T15:16:00.000-06:00

I was sitting here at my desk looking out the window,watching the frozen leaves try and resist the wind. There wasn't anything in particular that reminded me of my old friend. I think it was just the dreary weather and the reminders of death, with all of the signs of impending winter and the dark cold days ahead. I don't have time anymore to indulge my meloncholy in the ways I used to when I was younger and single and childless. I'm sure when I'm older, and single and childless I'll find too ample the time to nurse the saddness that companions the long winter months... years.

Depression and regret are the flypaper of feelings, once you land there it's near impossible to pull yourself away. But, I knew as soon as the feelings bubbled up to the surface they would not be quickly quieted until I gave them their due. I hope I can pay the emotional toll with a few sad songs and memories and a few "what if's" and "if only's" and maybe those feelings will release and let me flit about my day.

I'm thinking of my friend who always reminded me of the poet Charles Bukowski.My friend with whom I almost shared my life but then did not.My friend whom I had not spoken to in years and learned of his death by chance when reading a random blog. I never met Bukowski but his writing has such a raw but rythmic edge to it... the tragic lost genius who laughs at the rest of us taking life so seriously. I wonder what would have happened if Hank and Charlie had ever met. They probably would have sat down in a dive apartment on broken furniture with cockroaches and drank beer talked about women and monumental bowel movements or they would have pitied eachother or maybe all of that and something else. They were kindred souls and of course I get to make all the predictions of what could have been because I'm the only one of the three us still able to use a keyboard.

the crunch
by Charles Bukowski

too much
too little

too fat
too thin
or nobody.

laughter or
tears

haters
lovers

strangers with faces like
the backs of
thumb tacks

armies running through
streets of blood
waving winebottles
bayoneting and fucking
virgins.

or an old guy in a cheap room
with a photograph of M. Monroe.

there is a loneliness in the world so great
that you can see it in the slow movement of
the hands of a clock.

people so tired
mutilated
either by love or no love.

people just are not good to each other
one on one.

the rich are not good to the rich
the poor are not good to the poor.

we are afraid.

our educational system tells us
that we can all be
big-ass winners.

it hasn't told us
about the gutters
or the suicides.

or the terror of one person
aching in one place
alone

untouched
unspoken to

watering a plant.

people are not good to each other.
people are not good to each other.
people are not good to each other.

I suppose they never will be.
I don't ask them to be.

but sometimes I think about
it.

the beads will swing
the clouds will cloud
and the killer will behead the child
like taking a bite out of an ice cream cone.

too much
too little

too fat
too thin
or nobody

more haters than lovers.

people are not good to each other.
perhaps if they were
our deaths would not be so sad.

meanwhile I look at young girls
stems
flowers of chance.

there must be a way.

surely there must be a way we have not yet
thought of.

who put this brain inside of me?

it cries
it demands
it says there is a chance.

it will not say
"no."
-Charles Bukowski, Love is a Dog from Hell (1977)

Charlie, I always did think your existential arguements were crap it was all for show. But I did love you and I hope you are more than dust.

Beggar's Night

2006-10-30T18:02:00.000-06:00

Personally, I love Halloween. In fact, Halloween is my favorite holiday or celebration or whatever. So, I guess it always amazes me that there is a growing number of people who not only dislike the holiday but actually campaign to end it. Scrooges. Oh, I understand their backward and faux raputuresqe bible thumping reasons. Well, as much as one can understand babbling in tongues... and by the way isn't that the way the demons talked during the exorcist?

Anyway I digress.

Halloween is a fun holiday. Come on... seriously you get to dress up and eat bite sized snickers and milky ways until you burst while slurping down hot apple cider or cocoa and don't forget running around the neighborhood with your friends. Maybe people don't like having to shell out the money for the candy. I think I just read that now there are more people with out children than with children in the United States. Maybe we as a society are becoming less tolerant of childish fun. And for those who are going to jump in with the "Devil's Holiday" bull, I say to you "pppbbbppt" I have not seen a six year old sacrificing goats on Halloween... ever. In fact Halloween at this point and for the general public is no more symbolic of a ritual anymore than the wedding march is associated with a rape in an opera. Yes, the traditional wedding march was from an opera and the score for a rape. So if everyone is going to take everything literally from it's origins then we all better buckle up for a bumpy ride.

Adults make things difficult. The kids do not care nor do they link Halloween to a growing interest in necromancy. They care about how much candy they can get minus the yucky peanut butter chews in a few hours. I love Halloween but this state has figured out a way to squash my love a bit. The moved trick or treating to a Beggar's Night. No trick or treating on Halloween is allowed. Nope, you have to trick or treat between 6pm-9pm on the night before Halloween. I've lived here for seven years and I still do not understand the rational or logic behind the rule. Eh, whatever. This year I'm dressing up on Beggars Night and Halloween more fun for me! And guess what? I'm not dressing up as a hero or athlete nope!

I'm dressing up as a witch; I bought $40 worth of the good kind of candy; I'm giving out handfuls of it instead of one piece to make up for all the self-rightous stick in the muds that are hiding behind their darkened doors muttering gibberish about satan worshipers and hellbound toddlers in superman outfits. Then when I'm done handing out all this wonderful stuff I may go in my back yard and dance around under the moon and sacrifice a goat.

Really, adults need to get a sense of humor and pull their pious little pin-heads out of their sanctimonious asses and realize they are killing the innocence much faster than anything they oppose.

Girlfriends

2006-10-28T20:38:00.001-05:00

When I was in college we used to go on leadership retreats. Which when translated meant "Drunkfest with little supervision at Beaver Creek ski resort". My goodness the things that a good Catholic College will teach you. Sure there was plenty of alcohol, but there was also a lot of talking and debating and joke telling and laying around in your PJ's and just being... you. I think about those times and truly miss my leadership buds, but especially my girlfriends.

Recently I met up with some of my girlfriends. We laughed and cried and seemed to regress to about the age of 16. I've lived away from home and my home state for 13 years and as a result away from a good portion of my friends. But this was a chance to hang out with friends and be someone other than a role of mommy.

It's easy to get swept up into the everyday responsibilities of chasing three children and a husband (and yes at times I do raise the husband too) and a dog and trying to maintain the illusion of a career. Then of course there is a house. A house that I'm grateful to have but it is like everything else it requires constant attention. I probably sound a bit ungrateful. But really, I think I'm suffering from some sort of re-entry-into-whatismylife-itis.

When you are in the full rhythm of the daily grind and shake it's easy to forget that you have friends or that you had a life before you had a husband, dog, kids and house in whatever order. And it's easy to forget how much you need friends. Sometimes you convince yourself that you don't have time or that your life is full with soccer games, company dinners, school functions, and a pile of laundry threatening to raise the ceiling. Then there are those quiet moments when you feel the nagging edges of nostalgia for a life before.

My friends are all incredible people who inspire me. They are strong and insightful and wicked smart with the wit to match. My jaw still aches from laughing so hard. We giggled and danced and some even sang. For awhile we were all free to just let go and be irreverent and not worry about judgment or measuring up to an invisible standard that some demand of mothers and that we nearly kill ourselves to reach. But it is a phantom, a mirage that no person can attain. We need friends to help remind us that our worth is weighed not in hours volunteered or cookies baked or miles driven.

Reconnecting with friends or even meeting new ones seems to blow away the fog of illusion that mothers’ don't need their own social circle. We do. I do. Going out with friends, besides being an assault on my liver that reminds me I am not 23 anymore, recharges me and helps me remember “me”. I am more than a chauffer, maid, dog walker, grocery gathering matron, and private detective for every misplaced item. There is more to me. I am an artist. I love to write. I like photography. I enjoy telling stories. I cook for fun. I like to be silly. I like to sleep in past 6:30 AM, damnit! It's always a little humorous when I rediscover parts of me that I didn't even realize were missing.

Here's the thing, I don’t think that I’m alone or the only mother/woman who feels this way. I think I saw the same thing in my girlfriends; little moments when you could see the flash of self recognition as we reconnected with each other and ourselves.

I came home to a sick child, husband and dog. I opened the refrigerator to find every brand of take out in a 30 mile radius and a house that looked like two tornados had hit. As I started to clean up, make soup and serial call for doctor’s appointments, the inner 16 year old in me said, “Ah, yeah… gotta split. Have fun and next time you hook up with those friends of yours give me a call." She can be such a brat but she and my friends gave me a gift... I am writing again.

Love Thursday

2006-08-24T16:24:00.000-05:00

From the blog Chookooloonks : We can all use a little more love in the world. Chookooloonks started "Love Thursday" and here's how it works.

1. If you have a blog, post a photograph, or a painting, or an image of art, or a story about love on your website today. Remember, it doesn't have to be romantic love -- it can be love of family, love of friends, love of pets, hell, love of a good meal. It can even be a deformed Cheerio that looks surprising like a heart. Seriously, anything -- so long as it brings to mind love.
2. Once you've posted your image or story, feel free to return here to Chookooloonks (or the site of my Love Thursday Partner-In-Crime, Irene Nam) and post the permalink to your post in the comments. And by the way, if you post a photo or other image, please consider adding it to our Love Thursday Flickr Pool. It's a wonderful place to visit and see real evidence that love is, indeed, all around us.
3. If you don't have a blog, don't let that stop you from sharing -- feel free to post your story about love in the comments here.
And that's all there is to it -- a simple way to spread the love!

Here's my contribution to feel the love:

Can't you almost feel it?

Summer Movies

2006-07-08T08:11:00.001-05:00

With Roger Ebert recouperating, I thought I'd give my version of thumbs up/down for a few summer movies.

An Iconvenient Truth

It's been described as one of the most important movies of our time. Personally, I believe it is one of the most enlightening, frightening, and paradigm shifting movies you'll ever see. I give it a definite green thumbs up!

Who Killed the Electric Car?

Holy conspiracies batman! The oil and auto manufacturers are actually in bed together? These titans of industry huddle together on golf courses and club houses to figure out ways to make more money? No, come on that's just pure paranoia. Right? They don't really care about profits just making sure you and I have safe affordable clean transportation and save our limited natural resources. Well if you are wondering why technology in computers and every other industry has advanced, yet we have done little to change the combustion engine. Why have cars gone from 40mpg down to 16 mpg over the past 20 years? If you watch the film be prepared for the backlash of advertising and media rebuttals from GM. Thumbs up!

Disney's Cars

Eh. My thumb is some where between up and down. I really like Pixar films so it is difficult for me to bag on this movie. However at times it felt hypocritical that Disney, the king & kingdom of commercialization, was giving a lecture on the evils of commodifying. That said there were definitely cute moments and you couldn't help cheer for the heart string pulling moments. It was worth an afternoon matinee ticket price and the bucket of popcorn I shared with my boys. They loved it.

Pirates of the Boxoffice... I mean Caribbean II

The movie title is actually Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest. But not only did I feel that I was rooked out of $25 dollars to see this dredge, after watching 150 minutes it felt like I trapped in a Deadman's Chest. This movie at best was a nearly 3 hour long teaser for Pirates of the Caribbean 3. At worst it was as if the cast was set before the script was then hastily written over too many mimosas. Trust me there were no rum drinks that inspired this movie. It was pure hollywoood, self-importance isn't this so cool with this special effect and this name, crappola. They opened so many plot lines and introduced and reintroduced so many characters that you were left wondering, how are they going to tie this all together? The answer, they didn't. They just shut off the camera and called it a movie. I didn't even find Johnny Depp's performance redeming. I felt like I had been held up at sword point and then told to walk the plank, actually that would have been at least heart thumping. There wasn't one bit of heart in the entire movie... not even in the Deadman's Chest. Thumbs down.

DVD Rental recommendations:

If you want to see a feel good movie with great acting but not a bunch of sappy formula writing, definitely pick up The World's Fastest Indian. Sir Anthony Hopkins was absolutely brilliant in this movie and I hope that at 80 I'm as spry as the character he portrays.

My second recommendation may make you feel like you just flashed back to a wild college party where someone passed around a funny cigarette or may make you want a funny cigarette. Either way it's one of those movies that will leave you thinking for days, What the Bleep Do We Know Anyway?

Okay, that's it for me and my movie reviews. I'll hand this back over to Ebert because, sheeesh I've got other things to do besides just watch movies all summer!

My Big Fat Italian Wedding

2006-07-06T13:19:00.000-05:00

Ten years ago today, I walked down the aisle of Immaculate Heart of Mary church, looked at my smiling bride groom and wondered, “How much longer until we can split for the honeymoon?” I also was wondering why in the world I let my mother talk me into a long-sleeved completely beaded wedding gown, that made 100 children in Asia arthritic, in July… in the desert.

Why?

Because my wedding was the “Big Fat Italian Wedding”.

From the moment my future husband proposed I wanted to elope. I begged him to just elope with me. Attempted to bribe him with every naughty sexual favor I could imagine. But, he wanted a traditional wedding. He still seemed to get the naughty bribes though. ;)

He has a very large and close extended family. I have a very large and complicated extended family. Everyone seemed to push for this traditional wedding and I wanted peace and for everyone to be happy. So I was a flipping pushover. I caved and agreed to just about everything for the sake of peace among the families. My biggest mistake? Me living in Kansas at the time, but planning a wedding to take place in Colorado, the state where my family lives.

From the huge beaded dress, to the flowers, to the colors of baby blue & peach I had very little to say about how the wedding would proceed. Remember, I wanted to elope. When asked what wedding colors I wanted, I said “Navy and cream”. Everything showed up as baby blue and peach. My mother went to the bridal shop and changed the dress order for all my bridesmaids from a dress in navy crepe to the baby blue silk ones you see above. I have never worn baby blue or peach in my life and never would have asked my friends to either. The required printed napkins and all of the other wedding paraphernalia arrived with out my knowledge of it ever being ordered. Then the guilt, oh god, the guilt. “What? You don’t like it? Oh, I guess that’s just $500 down the drain.”

Sure, I can laugh about it now. Kinda.

But, if I could go back in time, I would say to myself “Elope!” Then I would tell myself, it doesn’t really matter what kind of wedding you have or what you or anyone else wears. And that, she’s right, he is the *one* and there is nothing to be nervous about. I would also tell her, in ten years you will love this man more than you ever thought possible. And that the love drunk giddiness will ebb and flow but there is a deeper more sustaining current of love and respect that will carry you forward. She might not see it or fully recognize it yet, but it is there. The disagreements and difficult times aren’t something to blaze through, but will test, change and pull at the bond and when you want to push further away that’s exactly the time to cling on tighter. She would probably tell me to shut up and quit talking so much or maybe she wouldn’t believe me because at the time she cannot understand that her love could be any stronger, any more passionate, and any deeper. But it will be and does exceed her wildest dreams.

Creeeeeaaaaaaak... opening the door

2006-07-04T22:53:00.000-05:00

*Tap*
*Tap*
*Tap*
Hello?
Anyone still out there still checking in here?

Hi. It’s me. Yup. A rare and ever so elusive KK blog sighting.

Thought I’d pop my head in and give a quick post, you know, just in case someone out there was wondering if I was abducted by Bigfoot or eaten by an 80 foot alligator or something.

Ah, yeah… no. Nope. I’m still around. Letsee here um the last time I done posted was waaaaaaaay back in the spring of 2006. Lawd, so much has happened where’s do I begin?

You know, no one really talks like that in Iowa. I don’t talk like that and I’m not really sure who does except in Hollywood scripts that make me mourn the poor tree that lost its life to that senselessness. But I digress. Back to me, since you can’t really talk about you on my blog. Or at least not until the comments are enabled and then you can post away.

So, as you can see I’m bored. I have a moment to myself to post. Why, you might ask is Mrs. Dulce at home on the night of the 4th of July? Why isn’t she taking in the fiery display of gunpowder in bloom across the summer night sky with her wide eyed and hyped up on ice cream children? That would be because two of the three are with Mr. Dulce partaking in the summer ritual, while I’m at home watching bambino Dulce who has been running a fever since Friday.

He started running a fever as soon as I had put the last bag into the happy mini bus headed for Colorado and a much anticipated trip to the mountains for a 4 day camping trip. After finishing a mountain of work, shopping, organizing, packing and enduring many familial phone calls to arrange all the details… in the two hours before we were to leave… “Houston we have a problem”. I called my husband who was still at the office working frantically to wrap up loose ends and proceedings and still be able to make the trip. All week it’d been like living with Ethan Hawk from Mission Impossible as he’d described the mountain of work he had to wade through in order to go. So, when Friday came and he was only an hour from leaving the office after successfully conquering the paperwork pile and I was on the phone telling him our 15 month old had a 102.4 fever. He didn’t talk. He didn’t say anything for at least 10 minutes. I was tempted to hang up and call his secretary to go check on him.

Jumping to the end result… we didn’t go to Colorado. Bambino Dulce’s fever topped out at 105.5 on Sunday night and I was grateful to be in a urban area with electricity and flush toilets and 24 hour access to a pediatrician.

And so… here I am. Home with a sleeping and on/off again feverish baby. Who the doctor definitively said, “I’m 90% sure it’s a virus. Unless of course it is just a delayed reaction to the measles vaccine. But most likely a virus.”

Yeah, I love that. It’s like the get out of jail free card doctors carry around – “It’s probably just a virus”. Yeah, well ebola is just a virus too. How about a little help here doc? Throw a poor sleep deprived prone to panic mom a bone here. Anything I can do to make it better? Yeah, no. Same answer as any mother ever gets – it just has to run it’s course and try not to worry. Uh-huh, and while I’m trying not to worry I might as well just quit breathing too. 105.5 degrees Fahrenheit! Come ON! I don’t even get into hot tubs that hot!

Can you tell sleep deprivation has sunk in a bit? I’m just a tad cranky around the edges.

If you are still reading and want to know a brief version of what I’ve been doing since my last post. Here is a link to a brief photo documentary of “What I’ve done on my summer vacation so far”. (Pictures)

If you do happen to get the chance definitely check out the King Tut exhibit. It's in Chicago at the Field Museum until Jan 1, 2007, then it will be off to Philadephia. Another exhibit that is worth it's weight in gold is the Evolving Planet it's not just a bunch of dinosaurs, it is the single most incredible exhibit I've ever seen of how life has adapted to earth.

And that’s what I’ve been up to… besides the normal cook, clean, drive kids, and put in 30+ hours a week trying to write evaluation and research summaries on youth who have aged out of foster care. Anyone want to help me revamp the foster care system in Iowa?

I’ll try to check back in again at the end of July. :D Maybe I will try to write a few brief entries instead of these novellas.

Just one picture pleeeehzzz

2006-04-18T11:49:00.000-05:00

Well, here goes the dream of clean & dressed up.

"Mom, this is getting boring."

Ok, just smile big and you can go. Wait, the baby is escaping.

Ok, Baby is back on the couch. Everyone smile... Up here baby

No, flip-fricken flash! Oh, good enough, go eat chocolate bunnies and run amok.

I-Pod Goofiness

2006-04-11T17:03:00.000-05:00

I was lacking motivation and inspiration today, but spotted this on another website. It took me back to high school and the goofy things you'd do to predict the future. Take the following questions, then hit "shuffle" on your i-pod and use the song that pops up for the answers.

How does the world see you? "Like a Virgin" Madonna
Will I have a happy life? "Tan Dun” Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon - Yo-Yo Ma
What do my friends really think of me? "My Style" Black eyed Peas
Do people secretly lust after me? "I’m a man of constant sorrow” Oh Brother Where art thou - John Hartford
How can I make myself happy? "Mama You’ve got a Daughter" John Lee Hooker
What should I do with my life? "Dr. Feelgood" Aretha Franklin
What is some good advice for me? "Finlandia" Indigo Girls
Will I be financially secure? "My Name is" Eminem
What describes my love life? "Smoke and Ashes" Tracy Chapman
How will I be remembered? "Emotion" Destiny’s Child

Long distance spell check…

2006-04-11T14:51:00.000-05:00

The phone rang yesterday afternoon, just as I was trying to extricate bambino dulce from his dirty pampers. I ignored it. The phone, not the diaper. I figured who ever it was could leave a message or call back later.

I squeezed some Beaudroux baby butt paste on his tuckiss and was in mid slather when the phone rang again. Again, I ignored it. The ringing stopped but then my cell phone started ringing. Suddenly, images of hurt children or spouses came blasting through my mind. So, I quickly fastned a fresh nappy on bambino’s hiney, unceremoniously slung him on my hip, dashed for the kitchen, hit the phone speaker button with my elbow and yelled, “Just a minute let me rinse my hands!”.

The person on the other end said, “No problem.”

Me: Hi, sorry about that.
Caller: No problem. Hey, you busy?
Me: Um, Younger Bro is that you? Are you okay? What’s…
Brother: Yeah, no I’m okay. I am sitting in Starbucks in Denver.
Me: Yeah, is everything okay?
Brother: Well, uh I’m filling out this job application and I was wondering if you could spell check something for me?
Me: Uh,
Brother: Guidance, does it have an “e” after the “d”?
Me: Nope. G-u-i-d-a-n-c-e.
Brother: You sure?
Me: Yep…well.. I’ll double check, you know I have spelling phobia. (I laugh and I quickly check on Word.) Yep, you’re all set.
Brother: Thanks.

Spell-check via sibling cell phone. Life’s so much better when you have siblings. Who else really understands how crazy mom is driving you or you can call long distance to check your spelling.

What Happens to Anxiety Dreams When You're Out of School...

2006-04-07T20:57:00.000-05:00

Do you remember those dreams you would have as a kid, where you would show up to school in only your underwear? Yeah, you would suddenly realize while you were getting up to go to the board that, "Oh.My.God. I'm in my underwear! What the hell am I thinking coming to school in my underwear?!" About that time some, teeth polished white as a porcelain toilet, cheerleader arch-nemesis would start to taunt you, "Look at Ms. Dulce! You freak you're in your pink and blue smurf undies!"

Ok, maybe not the last part but admit you were with me until then. Just nod and smile.

So last night I'm dreaming that the Dulce family is running late for Easter Brunch at my SIL's house. My perfectly primed and very posh SIL. The one who takes her children for $60 haircuts and they are 4 and 8. My kids run from me when they hear the first clank of the step stool as I climb in the hall closet for the clippers.

Anyway, back to the dream...

It's a frantic paced dream. We are running late. I'm trying to round up the the Dulce boys who are mad and crying because, like the ole-Oh.my.god. I showed up for school and there's a test today dream, I apparently forgot it was Easter. Which meant we didn't dye any Easter Eggs and the Easter Bunny forgot their Easter Baskets.

My DH is looking at me with this pitiful, "how could you have forgotten the Easter baskets" kind of look. I am feeling frazzled trying to load everyone in the minivan and somehow I keep loosing a kid out the other side before I can get the last one bucked in the carseat. We finally arrive at my SIL and I realize I didn't bring the side dishes. Then some woman, whom I do not recognize but oddly looks a lot like, Carrie Donovan, the woman who used to do the Old Navy commercials is saying grace but stops in the middle and just stares at me, Mr. Dulce and the Dulce Boys. You remember her...

Right.

Now, after a long uncomfortable moment, she says, "I just have to say, I can't believe that you would come to Easter Brunch in thermal shirts and sweat pants! How rude!"

I look down and sure enough I'm in a thermal Henley and navy sweat pants.

I woke up this morning and the first thing I said to Mr. Dulce was "I need to make sure to buy Easter outfits this year."

To which Mr. Dulce responded with, "Ooohkaay. But, dear you hate to shop."

"Yeah, but I'm not showing up at your sister's Easter brunch in a thermal Henley and navy sweat pants."

Mr. Dulce was appropriately confused and left bed in search of coffee and his real wife. Because he gave me a look as if he'd never seen me before in his life. I think he mumbled something to the children about not going to our bedroom until Mommy woke up some more.

Tuesday Ten

2006-04-04T12:47:00.000-05:00

I was going to post about my birthday but now that seems a little, oh I don't know, belated and a bit narcissistic. So instead I thought I'd write about a few things I discovered over the past year.

Here are ten great things that I’ve discovered since my last birthday. I’m not receiving any sort of compensation for any of these items. They are just, in my opinion, things that made life easier or better or just more enjoyable. And seriously, who doesn’t love that?

1. Lansinoh breast pads – After nursing three children I finally found a breast pad that did not leak, was comfortable to wear and didn’t leave my nipples looking like pickled raisins. Imagine Easter dinner at your in-laws, new born baby and freshly engorged breasts… then you sneeze and dual fire hoses erupt from your chest. You look down expecting to see the spreading tell-tale circles, but instead there is nothing. Relieved you run to the bathroom to check, but the miracle breast pads are holding steady like the Hoover dam. It was at that moment I fell in love with my Lansinoh breast pads. They have never let me down. They are just the closest thing to perfection you can put in your bra that costs less than $10.

2. New Chapter Organic Women’s One a Day – I take these pills once a day and they make me feel good and the best part they are legal. I’ve never been healthier since starting this vitamin. I have made lots of life style and diet changes in the past year but I feel this vitamin has played a vital role in my over all health and well being. Added benefit they are probiotic which helps things stay in balance in the old digestive track... so if you have that common IBS issue these may be your magic get out of the bathroom card. Check 'em out.

3. 8th Continent Vanilla Soy Milk – I used to be a big milk drinker as a kid. I can’t think of a day that went by that I didn’t have a milk-stache. Now, I don’t even like the taste of cow milk now on my cereal. 8th Continent Vanilla Soy on my Kashi Go Lean with a few blueberries and walnuts tossed in is like having dessert for breakfast.

4. SuDoKu – I’m addicted, obsessed and have worn through entire pencil erasers doing the fiendishly difficult puzzles in the New York Times.

5. Altoids Ginger and Altoids Cinnamon Gum – A candy and gum I can finally keep in my purse that isn't mysteriously hiested by "notme" or "Idon't know" or stickyfingers the 3ft tall bandit that bears close resemblance to my offsring. I always find an empty gum or mint container just when I'd want a piece after a tuna sandwich on an onion bagel. These are virtually kid proof. Beyond fresh breath they provide some other health perks like settling an upset stomach and giving you a sense of phenomenal cosmic power that you can actually put a nuclear reactor in your mouth and chew it. Now, be warned that you may singe the eyebrows of the next person you converse with after having eaten one of these treats, but you will not be offensive. Well, you may be offensive but your breath won't be.

6. I-Pod – I’m so hip now. Well, I like to think I am. Well, I was last week... month... year... okay forget it. I'm not hip but I’ve rediscovered music beyond Raffi and We Sing. Wow, I love the music but it’s a good thing I haven’t been listening to the radio with the infant, preschooler and 2nd grader. I can just imagine my 4 yo breaking out Gold-digger in front of company. It’s a great song for the elliptical, but not so great for family gatherings. I can’t imagine morning workouts with my I-pod. It is also very handy when mommy needs a time out from 8 year old back seat drivers and the hundredth time through the Wiggles greatest hits CD on the car radio.

7. Oregon Decaf Chai and Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Decaf Soy Latte – Yes it was a dark day when I had to give up caffeine for health reasons but I didn’t have to give up my fav drinks when I discovered these two. Aaaaaah sweet relief.

8. Bravado Nursing Bras – a must for the generously busted nursing mother. They are comfy, easy to wash, no hooks and you can sleep in them without feeling that you’ve been harnessed in a Victorian girdle.

9. Sushi – Ok, where have I been? Oh, yes I remember. I’m stuck in the Midwest were the freshest seafood, is something being protruded at you from your child’s tongue. But, I finally had the opportunity to try some reputable real sushi and ahhhhh heaven in a rice and seaweed wrapper with a dab of wasabi. Now that I’m hooked I have to wait until I’m back within driving distance of ocean views before indulging my cravings.

10. Toyota Sienna – I swore that I would never ever drive one. Nope, not me! I was destined to live in a cabin drive a jeep to and from my mountain abode to Telluride selling my art on the street. No sense succumbing to the brain numbing droneness of mom-minivan-suburbia life. Hi, I’m Mrs. Dulce and I’m eating my words. Here I am married to a white collar businessman, mother of 3 living in a suburb in the Midwest with a dog and as of this year driving a minivan. And I love it and it makes life much easier and I am really glad I have it. Seriously, though the Sienna is great. If you are having to succumb to the call of the suburban life and need to haul around chillypops and friends to soccer et. al then this is your ride. There are so many nifty little features that being cool seems just plain silly.

These quiz things could keep me busy for hours

2006-03-30T13:15:00.000-06:00

I was going to take the "What kind of procrastinator are you" quiz, but I think I'll do it later.

What Kind of Soul are You?
Do souls have categories? Is there an encyclopedia of souls? It kind of makes you wish you were back in college and had a weekend to burn... literally burn some fun smelling stuff. Does it fit on the tip of a pin? Peace duuuuuuuude.

You Are a Peacemaker Soul

You strive to please others and compromise anyway you can.War or conflict bothers you, and you would do anything to keep the peace.You are a good mediator and a true negotiator.Sometimes you do too much, trying so hard to make people happy.
While you keep the peace, you tend to be secretly judgmental.You lose respect for people who don't like to both give and take.On the flip side, you've got a graet sense of humor and wit.You're always dimplomatic and able to give good advice.
Souls you are most compatible with: Warrior Soul, Hunter Soul and Visionary Soul

This is spot on...

2006-03-30T13:01:00.000-06:00

You are a Black Coffee

At your best, you are: low maintenance, friendly, and adaptable

At your worst, you are: cheap and angsty

You drink coffee when: you can get your hands on it

Your caffeine addiction level: high

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

Yep, uh huh this is me ;)

2006-03-30T12:54:00.000-06:00

Those of you that know me, stop laughing or I'll turn tornado on you. ;)

You Are a Rainbow

Breathtaking and rareYou are totally enchanting and intriguing But you usually don't stick around long!
You are best known for: your beauty
Your dominant state: seducing

What Type of Weather Are You?

March Madness

2006-03-29T19:21:00.000-06:00

March Madness
“Beware the ides of March”…pshaw! Beware of the whole flip-fracken month is more like it.

Why do I curse the month of March?

Losing the college ball brackets is the least of my reasons. Though, after the second round of games I was completely out of the family and work pools. I took some comfort in the fact that my ESPN-watching-Sports Illustrated-studied husband followed close behind and joined me in the losers circle.

In one month, I’ve had to have my blood pressure medication doubled. Yeah, doubled. Have I mentioned before that I’m under 35, I’m at my ideal weight AND… I drag my butt onto an elliptical machine at the gym 6 days a week for a 45 minute workout? Yeah, nice… doubled. The doctor says genetics. I didn’t get the oprera singer genes, the race engine metabolism I-can-eat-50-cannolis-and-not-gain-a-pound genes, or the nice curly hair genes, instead I get high blood pressure and premature gray genes.

The babysitter wrecked my new car. She doesn’t have insurance. I didn’t know she didn’t have insurance because she just let it lapse when she sold her car. This is why she was driving my car. But still she didn’t mention she didn’t have insurance. My new…first ever completely new happy mommy bus Sienna… passenger side… crushed. Kids and sitter were fine. She ran into a pole in a parking lot, backing up. But that’s a whole nother story, for another blog day.

The kids inadvertently knocked out the electricity plug from the chest freezer in the basement… on Friday. I didn’t go into the basement to get anything from the freezer until Monday. Yeah. There is nothing like discovering half a cow defrosted when all you wanted was some frozen snow peas for a stir fry. Suddenly you feel like you are thrown into Iron Chef America stressed suburban mom version. Good times.

Everyone including the dog has been sick this month. We’ve had the real flu, the stomach “flu”, colds, viruses and URIs. The dog has some sort of stomach ailment that produces noxious green foam ectoplasm poop that is impossible to get out of beige carpet. Did I mention the dog is not a small petite thing like a Jack Russell Terrier. No, he’s a 75lb Boxer.

There’s that moment when you want to kill them; you know the moment when you get up at 1 am feeling a bit parched and feel your way down the hall toward the kitchen and then… and then you step into something cold and squishy and you start praying right then that this is just one of those dreams and soon you’ll wake up and tell your significant other what a weird dream you just had. But instead, you flip on the light and feel that unique combination of horror and repulsion as you realize you’re going to be up until 4 am scrubbing carpets and trying to figure out if pulling out the green machine will wake the sleeping children that are currently knocked out from taking cold and cough medicine.

Of course, you aren’t so lucky and the green machine wakes up everyone and you are up to your elbows in green foam ectoplasm dog poo and children hacking up mucus which turns to the inevitable when they see the poo and you are now scrubbing green foam ectoplasm dog poo and vomit. That’s when you try to find your happy place and you start thinking the high blood pressure might not be genetics after all.

“In like a lion out like a lamb”… again… Pshaw! As the month winds down and there is April springing forth hope on the horizon, I’m about to celebrate another birthday. Sigh. I really dislike my birthday. Not really because of the aging thing, though each year that becomes more of a reason. It’s because my birthday is April fools day. If you feel so inclined to send me a whoopee cushion or rubber chicken, I’m all stocked up. But if you’ve found a few of my friends that I’ve driven off lately with my self-indulgent melancholy and virus ridden house, please send them back. I miss them and I promise I’ve had the carpets cleaned and the house fumigated with Lysol and I’ll try to be more myself in April. I’m ready to hand March her coat and beat her out the door with my shepherds crook.

Which Muppet am I?

2006-03-29T17:51:00.000-06:00

You Are Fozzie Bear

"Wocka! Wocka!"
You're the life of the party, and you love making people crack up.
If only your routine didn't always bomb!
You may find more groans than laughs, but always keep the jokes coming.

The Muppet Personality Test

These quiz things could keep me busy for hours...

2006-03-14T13:01:00.000-06:00

You Are a Peacemaker Soul

Playground Survivor

2006-03-03T13:03:00.000-06:00

Yesterday afternoon my 8 yo came home from school kicking the dust and looking like his chin was super glued to his chest. It didn't take a junior psychologist to figure out the guy had a rough day.

"Hey, kiddo how was your day?"

"Fine. Ok. Can I play my game cube?"

"Urm, hold up a minute. You look sad. What happened?"

"Nothing. Can I play my game cube?"

Hmm... thinks I. He wants to escape and doesn't seem keen to talk about it. Maybe I should try another approach. "Not, right now. How about having some popcorn with me?"

The conversation then turned to questions about homework and upcoming spelling tests. At which point he burst into tears when he realized that he had left his spelling list at school.

"This is the worst day EVER!"

I waited for it. It was building up...

"No one would play with me at recess. No one would let me play kickball. I asked both teams and they didn't want me because I'm not a good kicker. Then I forgot my spelling list and I'm never going to get to play my game cube EVER again."

There it was. All spewed forth at my feet. Much like a kid who eats nachos, cotton candy, pretzles, hotdogs, and chased it with rootbeer does just after getting off the tilt-a-wheel at the fair.

"Geez, that does sound like a bad day. No one played with you. That feels pretty bad."

There are times as a parent when you feel this ugly thing rise out of your chest. It's not pretty to admit. But on good days it only resembles you in the form of a big sister or older cousin who could go to school and with your hands on your hips tell those little snots not to pick on him or else. On bad days it looks like Sigourny Weaver.

On PMS days it looks like the Alien.

I always wished that I had a big sister or brother who would have done that for me. Someone who would have told Athena C. and Nicky A. that mean girls suck and I was a cool kid dammit. That I was still just as good as they were even if my parents couldn't afford to buy me cool clothes. That just because my dad was only a mechanic and not a doctor didn't mean I was less important. That they should let me play four square with them and talk in their cool circle.

Whew. Maybe time to sign up for that second round of therapy. Okay... okay... third round.

But then you realize that you are the grown up now. Beating up little kids is... uh... not an option. (Now, please do not think I'm harboring thoughts of hurting children. I'm not. This is all very tongue and cheek. So chill and get your finger off of the speed dial for child protective services.)

The ghosts of our childhood don't have to haunt our children. But they do pop up like a surprise seance and you feel like the new soccer mom medium. Watch out Patricia Arquette. I don't psh psh them away though. Those ghosts...err... experiences give you perspective and empathy... wise little buggers.

Not exactly what you tell an 8 yo who just wants to play kickball at recess. Instead of long lectures about the meaness of kids and how they don't know what they are missing and how in 10 years it won't matter. We spent some time brainstorming things that we could do to make it better.

Spelling List

Never go back to school
Mom homeschools son
Mom calls the teacher and gets spelling list
Mom calls and tells the teacher son can't take test tomorrow
Son calls the teacher and tells her he needs the list.
Son skips test and finds a job that doesn't require you to spell
Son calls a friend from class and gets the list and reviews for test

Playground

Never go back to school
Mom homeschools son
Stay inside and do extra homework instead of recess
Mom goes to school and yells at kids
Mom calls the teacher and tells her kids are picking on son
Play with other friends on the playground
Practice kicking the ball at home
When they say you aren't a good kicker, respond by saying what you are good at. "I'm a good catcher though. I help get the other team out when it's their turn to kick."

He then decided that the best solutions were: calling a friend to get the spelling list and ended up inviting him over for a movie this weekend and maybe practicing some kickball in the backyard. I hugged my kiddo, told him how much I know it hurts to be left out, and how stinkin' proud I'm of him for coming up with ideas and making good choices.

His chin miraculously came unglued from his chest. He beamed.

"I am good at figuring out problems."

"Yes, you are."

When my husband walked in the door he found me being chased by an 8 yo, a 4 yo, a baby in a walker (don't send me hate mail over that) and a dog. We were taking turns kicking a rolled up sock and running around the kitchen table. When he asked what we were doing we told him training for playground survivor.

My favorite quote of the week....

2006-02-22T19:50:00.000-06:00

So is this why....

2006-02-15T13:12:00.000-06:00

Girl Next Door

What is your sexual appeal?
brought to you by Quizilla

I unwrapped lotion instead of sexy lingerie from DH on Valentine's Day. Yes, this is me demure... pure...sweet... innocent. :D

As weird as...eating fresh pumpkins

2006-02-11T18:12:00.000-06:00

Today my oldest bambino dulce, Buddy, and I had a little conversation that still has me confused and bemused at the same time. Buddy, age 8, asked if he could go to the gym with me. He wanted to practice basketball before his afternoon game. When I finished my workout and went to sign him out of the childcare, err I mean "play place" our conversation started.

Me: Yo, dude you ready to jam?
Dulce son (looking at me as if he has no idea who I am): Huh?
Me: Hey bud let's rock and roll. We've got to hit Target and get a ball before your game at 2.
Dulce son: Mom?
Me: Ah, yeah.
Dulce son: You are acting wierd.
Me: Weird? *raising one eyebrow and talking out the side of my mouth* Who me?
Dulce son: You are being so weird! *shaking his head and looking down*
Me: Well, who do you think you inherited it from?

Dulce son: I'm not wierd!

Buster (dulce son #2) is wierd.

Dad is wierd...

and now YOU ARE WIERD!

But, I'm not wierd.

Me: Ah, babe, our whole family is wierd

except for the Baci-galoop (dulce son #3)
and that's only because he's too young yet to be wierd.

Dulce son: No, you and I aren't wierd mom. You know who is wierd?
Me: Who's wierd?
Dulce son: My friend Matt, he is wierder than eating fresh pumpkins.
Me: *blank stare*
Dulce son: ...wierder than eating fresh pumpkins off the vine.
Me: Wow, that is wierd.

I think I'll keep that one.

Tip for the Day

2006-02-09T09:17:00.000-06:00

Here is my tip for the day: If you happen to be happily singing along to Check on It whilst chopping red peppers and onions for a little fajita feast and the knife happens to slip and is about to fall to the floor - DO NOT... I repeat... DO NOT cave into your automatic reflex of trying to grab said falling knife. Or the result will be...

Much blood.

Many screaming children.

A spouse who nearly passes out after insisting, "Here, let me look at it."

Long wait in a waiting room full of coughing, hacking, and a general germ-a-poluza to get stitches.

Yeah, so if you find yourself in that kitchen situation. Be smart, override you impulse to catch and let the knife fall - just make sure to jump back or you'll get your foot instead.

4 Me?

2006-02-08T12:12:00.000-06:00

Okay, so Ms. Halushki the
stinker meme-ed me. I'm not even sure how to punctuate that. I'm
sure Sister Mary Ann is rolling in her grave after all those lessons on sentence diagrams and correct punctuation in 7th grade language arts at Holy Family. "Jesus-Mary-Joseph! She can't figure out the difference between a verb and a noun. Oh, father in heaven! She can't figure out when to put a comma or hyphen. Save us Lord Jesus."

Anyway back to this *meme* thing. I guess you just dive into it and
start yabbering about yourself.

Four Jobs I've had... hmmmm... keeping this PG right?

Lifeguard/Swim Instructor/City Pool Manager by day cocktail waitress by
night

Residence Life Coordinator at large University (read -Dorm Babysitter)

Therapist and Biofeedback Instructor

Human napkin for my offspring

Four Movies I could watch over and over

Moonstruck

Joy Luck Club

Fried Green Tomatoes

Like Water for Chocolate

Four Places I've Lived

Denver, Colorado

Rome, Italy

Manhattan.....................Kansas

Cumming, Iowa (I'm not kidding it really exists... and it is spelled that way. I always blushed when I wrote down my return address)

Four Places I've vacationed

Banff, Canada

Disney World

Venice, Italy

Gulf Shores, AL between hurricanes...

Four favorite dishes

Shrimp scampi and stuffed Artichokes with a Pinot and warm French bread

Tomatoes fresh from the garden... still warm from the sun... with salt and pepper with some fresh mozzarella and a drizzle of evoo

Ben & Jerry Cherry Garcia and a slice of devil's food cake - I know you think it's dessert but for me it's the entree

DH's chicken and sausage gumbo - I proposed to him after tasting it for the first time and we weren't even dating... seriously.

Four websites I visit daily

CNN (it's an illness)

Google

Work database website

dailyOm.com

Four places I'd rather be

Hawaii

Disney World

Small Cafe in Paris - drinking cafe au lait and eating a fresh croissant
with butter

Having lunch with a friend on Pearl Street in Boulder, CO

Four people I'm tagging: Everyone I know who blogs has been tagged
except:

Husband - who told me to forget it. He's swamped at
work.

Salty

2006-02-06T19:19:00.000-06:00

"Cleanliness is not next to godliness. It isn't even in the same neighborhood. No one has ever gotten a religous experience out of removing burned on cheese from the grill of a toaster oven."
- Erma Bombeck