Garlic Edamame, I can't get you out of my mind.

Had a 4 hour lunch with my friend Luong yesterday. Had forgotten what it's like to have lunch with a friend without being interrupted by my 3 kids and however many kids the friend may have too. Although I've come to enjoy the chaotic meals and random kid conversations at a table full of children because for me that's what my life is all about. We had some yummy sushi, a tofu dish and seaweed salad which surprised me with it's yumminess, and garlic edamame! Besides the conversation, this was the highlight of the meal.

Today we're going to Holden's friend's birthday party where there will be laser tag, go karts, arcade games and Ash chasing (my least favorite party event). 

Then off to Victoria Gardens to have lunch with Uncle Winston.

So far a great start to a nice long weekend.

Living to write and writing to live

I started a blog 10 years ago which I wrote in pretty much every week, sometimes more. In the last two years since twitter and facebook took over, and also 3 kids, I've blogged less and less. I've pretty much abandoned my original blog and sparsely updated this one. When I read my old one, I'm nostalgic. This blog may never be what that one was to me but every day I'm breathing I feel like I need to be writing. Not every post has to be epic, tragic or inspiring. But I must write. (inspired by Attic24, shared by a dear blogger friend)

Today I'm going to get sushi and a mani/pedi with a friend I've known since 2000. We met through work in Maryland which seems sooooo long ago, before I was even a mom which is such a very large part of who I am now. Since then, I've moved to Germany, California, Arizona, Florida and back to California. She was in DC but is originally from Montreal and moved to San Francisco at one point. Now she's married with one kid and a bun in the oven and ended up moving within an hour drive from where we are right before we moved here. Pretty amazing how life brings people together, can separate them and then bring them back together again.

I knitted her a blanket this week for the new baby. 

Another Mother's Day

The last few years, Bill has started the pre-Mother's Day conversation with "Soooo I let Mother's Day sneak up on me..." which means no plans have been made yet for the big day.

In my early years of motherhood, I did have an expectation of my husband doing something extra special for me. I DID carry a child in my body for 9 months (ahem, 3 times!) after all and even though some women manage to perform this same seemingly impossible feat while drinking, smoking, doing drugs and eating poorly while still managing to have a healthy, beautiful child, I still feel that I've accomplished something amazing - 3 times!

After having Holden, I really did feel like Bill owed me something. I thought, "Geez, his part was easy!" ... if you know what I mean. But then I had the challenge and privilege of growing that child for 9 months, birthing him and then caring for him 24 hours a day with little sleep or guidance from the magical parent fairy who was supposed to tell me about all of the little things I never imagined would keep me up at night (the crying, breastfeeding, the explosive pooping, the worrying if he was breathing) once I was 100% responsible for this precious little thing without even a one second break.

That first Mother's Day, Bill bought me a nice purse and watch and I felt I deserved it. It made me feel special and loved and was a nice pat on the back for a job well done.

After the first one, I still expected a little something and Bill followed through. And then one year, I know I told Bill I didn't care if he got me anything, but like so many women do and no one understands, I still wanted him to get me something. And expected him to read my mind. Which, let's face it, he is NOT good at.

This year, I said the words out loud. "Honey you really don't have to get me anything this year."

And you know what? I mean it. Bill may not have given birth to our 3 children, but he's done enough in their lifetime to prove that the role he played was just as important and deserving of appreciation. He really is an amazing father. He doesn't owe me anything. I just want to enjoy our kids with him every day for as long as possible.

This Mother's Day, I don't NEED a present. My kids are old enough now that they know what the day means, and if they want to have Dad buy me something or make something, it will mean a lot to me, of course. It's nice to be appreciated. It's sweet to receive gifts or flowers from the father of your children. But it means even more if they tell you throughout the year that they appreciate you.


When my husband tells me he feels lucky to have me as his wife and that I'm a good Mom on a regular Sunday in November or a Wednesday in February, I really feel like that is more than enough.

We're square.

And P.S. No, we still didn't buy a new bed! Ugh....

Christmas memories

Christmas always brings back so many memories.

I remember the days when Bill and I were without kids and used to go CRAZY at Christmas buying each other anything we wanted. We had all of this money (really not much, but felt like a lot when you're 22) and no one else to buy for but ourselves and a few relatives. We couldn't wait to open the presents on Christmas Day so we usually ended up giving one gift a day starting the first two weeks before Christmas.

As I was putting out the presents under the tree this year, I was telling the boys a story about when I was around 5 and wanted to open one particular present so badly I cried and cried and cried until my Mom let me open it. Looking back now I can distinctly remember how sweet and sad my Mom was for me that I was so unhappy about not getting to open it that she just couldn't stand it and had to let me open it. She reasoned with me that if I opened it early I wouldn't have a big present to open on Christmas Day but I didn't care. And this was just like Lucas. He was so eager to open all of his presents he didn't care about waiting. By the way, I still remember that present. It was a tea set. And worth opening early.

Each year we put our ornaments on the tree and tell our kids where each one came from. And as we add more, they recall year after year where we got those ornaments and what they mean to them. There is just something so magical about this day. There are sad memories too that I try not to dwell on. Because even in all of the sadness there were sweet moments that helped us get through what can sometimes be a difficult time of year for a lot of people. 3 years later, it's a hard holiday to manage when I miss my Mom so much. Yesterday I was thinking I needed to call her to wish her a Merry Christmas. Instead I just dreamed about her all night.

Merry Christmas to my Mom, who always made Christmas the merriest time of year no matter what was going on. And I'll follow in her footsteps.

We need a new bed.

Bill and I have had the same bed for the last 11 years.

When we first got married and were living in Maryland, we discovered an IKEA within an hour's drive from our first home. Like every poor newlywed couple, we furnished our home with the wonderfully inexpensive, infuriatingly constructed Eurocrap. It only took us 10 days to assemble our new dining room table, sofa and bed - the only 3 items in our entire house, besides splurging on a $500 TV which at the time seemed really expensive.

At 22 years old, when all of our extra money seemed better spent on clothing, movies, eating out at restaurants and adventuring, we convinced ourselves the full-size bed would do just fine (because it was the cheapest). And the model sans headboard and boxspring was perfectly comfortable (because it was the cheapest). And the natural wood "finish" was actually prettier than the darker wood (because it was the cheapest).

Over the next 11 years, we moved 5 times from the east coast to Germany, then west coast, desert, back to east coast and now on the west coast again. Our little full-size bed has made the trip with us and managed to hold itself together even missing support slats and carrying more weight each year (ahem... 3 pregnancies here, people... I can't speak for Bill on this one...). Needless to say, it has seen its fair share of wear and tear and surprisingly has survived pretty well for a cheap little bed.

Once we moved to CA this last time, we discussed buying a new bed, and as of right now, our cheap asses still haven't bought one. Yet again, we've convinced ourselves we can use the money for better things, like 3 growing boys, vacations and trips, 3 hungry boys, birthdays and holidays, and did I mention 3 growing and hungry boys?

Last night I spent most of the night with a mustached-man that felt like he was running a one thousand degree temperature who I think may possibly have the HEAVIEST leg of any person alive all up in my business while I tried to sleep. Every time I tried to move, that leg of lead was holding me down and scalding my skin with its insane warmth. So when I woke up this morning, I decided all I want for Christmas this year is a bed.

A real grown up bed. A Queen size bed. That isn't missing pieces. That has two different areas on the bed for two grown people to sleep without touching, if they don't want to.

Sure I'll miss our little mini-bed that has been with us through so much life. It may be a little bittersweet letting go of those memories... and all that money. But better the bed than murdering my husband in his sleep.

The REAL Beezus and Ramona

If you're a child of the 80s, you've read all of the Ramona Quimby series by Beverly Cleary or at least heard of them. And you've probably seen the trailer for the new Ramona and Beezus movie... and then promptly vomited in your mouth. (I won't link to it here, so google it if you haven't watched it yet. Also, "A little sister goes a long way" as the tagline? WTF does that mean?)

If you did in fact see the trailer for the movie, you can quickly tell that Hollywood managed again to take a beautiful, real story and turn it into crap by packaging it in a perfect, picturesque pile of baloney.

I haven't read the books since I was young, but now I want to go find all of those weird colored hardbacks that smell like old paper and glue and bury my tears in them. Any fan of a great book can't help but be excited about the prospect of seeing characters you envision in your mind come to life. But then it's always a crapshoot if the producers are going to find the right director and cast to make it happen the right way. It seems of late, they screw it up more than they do it right. Harry Potter is the only series that comes to mind that did it right, even if it's not perfect for everyone. Still, it captured the magic of the wizarding world in an enrapturing way.

But the Ramona books are more about capturing the essence of childhood and growing up - being awkward, inappropriate, ugly and hating your sister. Not chasing after boys, wearing makeup and annoying your sister only to later hear her say "Oh Ramona, even though you painted on the wall, I still love you and appreciate your individualism. Sorry I ever took you for granted!" Smile. Pose. Hug. Get the boy at the end.

In this case, Hollywood should've just left it alone. I won't watch the movie. I know what the real Beezus and Ramona look and act like. See below.

Total eclipse of the heart

It's been a few weeks since Eclipse came out and poor Bill didn't get to see it until last night. I allowed him to drag me there... okay, okay I wanted to see it too.

I've read the first two books and half of Eclipse, but it didn't take a literary genius to figure out where she was going with the rest of the book and the series, so the movie didn't surprise me. I've ranted enough about how I think Stephanie Meyer is a hack writer but still manages to not take away from enjoying the story. I still enjoy her characters even though it is a ridiculous love triangle. Pretty much any book/movie with vampires is watchable and enjoyable for me.

I enjoyed the movie despite the things that irritated me as a writer, and the weird vampire shattering. It was interesting and fun and creepy in all of the right ways. The stand-out for me was Taylor Lautner, though. I think he does a great job of coming off as passionate, tortured, brooding and cheeky. Plus, those dimples are adorable. 

What I do wonder is why there are so many people obsessed with it. I can see the allure of a vampire loving an ordinary girl and doing anything for her - and then tossing in a hot werewolf doesn't hurt things. That would certainly appeal to a younger group of girls who have never experienced love. Bill thinks a lot of women get wrapped up in the fantasy because many of them haven't read a lot of fantasy novels and this one has mythical creatures and love. So how does that obsession take hold for so many people? Not just girls and women.

For those of you that are OBSESSED... (and you know who you are...ahem...liz, jenn, marianne, mary...etc...) please tell me why you love it so much. I would love to know how you connect to the story on a personal level.