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Don’t Underestimate Yourself

There have been too many occasions for which my mother has had to fly in to rescue me.  In my defense, if I were to outline each of these insurmountable situations, you would absolutely agree that rescue was needed, hands down.  So, it’s not that I am a weak or incapable being, but if I were one of my sisters, or one of the three hundred other people who count on my mom for four million things, I might be slightly annoyed at daughter number four for her uncanny knack for attracting the impossible.

That said, one of these times specifically involved pre-term labor, a rambunctious 15 month old with a broken leg, a 16 ton cast, and doctor’s orders to “take it easy”  (Because that phrase means so much to a mother of a 15 month old.)  But, off she flew from East to West to help me do just that.  She was there about a week before Isabelle decided that 40 week pregnancies are for suckers and 36 was quite enough, thank you very much.

During the weeks that followed, she helped my husband and I as we ran ragged trying to juggle two babies, and I dreaded the day that she would go.  I kept on saying “how on earth am I going to do this by myself?  There isn’t any way! How does anyone do this?!”

But, the day came.  My mother had responsibilities at home that had been neglected for too long.  Her own 95 (then 93) year old mother lives in her care, as well as my younger brother who has Down Syndrome. I had her for a whole month – Only-child style.  It was then that I learned that we can surprise ourselves by our strength, resilience and resourcefulness once we are forced to go it alone.

The days and months ahead were not easy by any means, but I did actually learn that I could put two kids in the car without forgetting one of them in the driveway or the on roof of the car.  Coming to the realization that you are not a complete moron feels really good.  Thank you Mom, for cutting the cord.

Speaking of cutting cords….my mother swooped in the day before  my vocal surgery and stayed for five days, three days longer than planned.  After umpteen phone calls from my brother and grandmother, the guilt overtook me and I sent her home.  I had only two more days before I would hopefully be able speak, and although my husband was working late for both of them I felt confident I would surprise myself with my brilliant and silent coping skills.

The first solo bedtime was a complete disaster and it was made abundantly clear that there is absolutely no way in hell you can take care of preschool aged children without speaking to them with no other adult present.

And yet, I was again reminded of my resourcefulness.

I picked up the phone and sent a text to the babysitter.

See?  Trust yourself.  You are capable.  You are strong.  You have everything you need.

One Hilarious Christmas Wish

em and nick

 

 

 

 

 

 

All my brother asked for this Christmas was for me to record “Baby It’s Cold Outside” with him. 

em and nick recording

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here it is…Utter hilarious, joyous, genious.

http://www.kennethrozek.com/Christmas/babyitscoldemilynick.mp3

 

em and nick recording 2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I hope you all had a blessed and beautiful Christmas, in from the cold!

Love,

The Motherfog Family

What’s this whole red and blue thing about, eh?

My trip to Canada was brief, as are most of my business jaunts. I like to get right home to the hubby and kids, but I could have tolerated just an hour or two longer this time. By the time I wound down from the show and jammied up for bed, it was 1 a.m. The car picked me up at 4:15. I settled myself into the black sedan and hoped to drift off during the hour long trip to Toronto’s Pearson Airport.

Within seconds, I knew the driver was a talker, something I normally don’t like, especially at that hour, but I was quickly drawn into our conversation and we pulled up to my terminal before I could say “Oh man, I’m sorry if I drift off on you. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

This delightful, roly poly fellow, with the innocent face of Santa Clause began talking about his hobbies, love of soccer and adventures of being a limo driver- a job he searched out post-retirement just to keep from setting a bad example for his teenage sons by lying on the couch all day.

The chat found its way to a story of an altercation. I don’t remember the details, but it involved a robber of sorts that he chased after on foot.

“Wow! Were you terrified?” I asked.

“No. Not really. So few people have guns in this country. They’re extremely hard to get”

A target shooter himself, he explained that in Canada the process to own a fire arm is long and drawn out. He had to take classes, have an affidavit signed and notarized by his wife stating that she was comfortable with her husband keeping a weapon in the house, and once all of that was completed, there was a mandatory one month waiting period before the gun could be obtained. They call it a “cooling off” period.

Naturally, this brought the conversation to the States and its total jackassery concerning such issues.

“What did you guys up here in Canada think of the election and the three ring circus it rode in on?”

“I didn’t really follow it. But what’s this whole red and blue thing about, eh?”

Oh, Canada. Might you have room for four more citizens? Two of them are extremely adorable. I can have them dressed in maple leaves and singing “O Canada” in harmony, lickety-split. Just think about it and get back to me. We’ll be rehearsing.

Fact Check:
All statements are true and correct. Even that which is most offensive- I was awake and in the car at 4 a.m.

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Wordless Wednesday

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John Franklin Stephens

The was sent to me numerous times and I am thankful for every link.  Ann Coulter is a non-human.  I have nothing more to say about that which I refuse to label with an actual pronoun.

John Franklin Stephens is pure, brilliant inspiration.  Read his words here, perhaps even if you have already.

http://specialolympicsblog.wordpress.com/2012/10/23/an-open-letter-to-ann-coulter/

Just For Laughs

I must say that I usually despise “funniest home videos” type shows simply because they seem mostly filled with people hurting themselves horribly while America laughs. I guess if there was actual serious bodily harm or worse, these people would not submit their videos to the show (I hope). Still, they hurt me to watch.

BUT…

I laughed until I cried watching this today and had to share. Some of the clips are definitely wrong and not so funny, i.e. little boy tripping over a soccer ball- NOT FUNNY(click here in case you’re confused about my position on that). But, again, I’m sure if the child of whom I speak ended up in a three-quarter body cast, it would not be on this clip. Enough of my disclaimers.

Watch and Laugh. Or, watch and cry.

Click in the actual link below that starts with “27 reasons…”. For some reason there is a video ad on this post. New WordPress thing? Ignore.

27 REASONS WHY KIDS ARE ACTUALLY THE WORST- BY BUZZ FEED

The Birthday Verdict

As some of you may know, the rapidly approaching third birthday has been stressing me out in terms of event planning.  We have been visiting different locations (i.e. Zoos and Children’s museums), to get quotes and a feel for what a “destination party” would entail.  Those ideas went out with the price tags and the most recent plan was to throw a simple backyard (mini) extravaganza. But as each date I threw out was problematic for the few people involved, pushing the party into October, a month in which his birthday is not, I tried a different approach…asking the birthday boy himself.

This evening’s dinner conversation:

Me -“So Zachary, your birthday is this week.  We are going to do something special.  Anything you want.  What would you like to do?”

Zachary – “I don’t know”

Me – “Do you want to have a party with some friends?  Or a family dinner?”

Zachary – “A family dinner”

Me – “OK.  Do you want to invite any friends?”

Zachary – “Nope.  Just me, Daddy, Mommy and Isabelle”

So, there ya have it, preserved here for insurance purposes.  Thirty years from now, when he comes to me straight from therapy, nursing emotional wounds inflicted by lack of three-year-old festivities, I can prove that it was his choice!

have a click!