Need a Friend Indeed

Recently at daycare Drew lost his good buddy Ryan who moved with his parents to a new state where people can actually afford to buy houses. I have to say he is handling it very well. I was prepared with an emotional speech regarding people coming and going, and that being the ebb and flow of life. A speech that is probably useless to a three year old. My daycare lady is amazing, they point on the map and she explains where Ryan moved to. I can tell when he is missing him because he says, “Ryan is in Cah-Loh-Rah-DOH” I love how he sounds it all out.

Me always being a woman on a mission is determined that I need to get this kid some new friends. However, I am a working Mom and am therefore excluded from certain Mommy groups. And I haven’t found a working mom’s weekend playgroup. See as you working moms know, the weekend turns into intensive kid time, where I try spend all my time with son to make up for missing so much during the week. But on the other hand, the kid needs some friends.

We went to the wedding of some friends, and even though I knew all the parents, just haven’t had time to stay in contact, Drew didn’t know any of the kids. When Drew went up and said hi to the other kids, most of them ran away, or hid in their dad or mom’s armpit. And my heart broke a little, I know these people, but I haven’t made time to hang out with these friends of friends that have kids. See most of our friends still haven’t or are just starting to have kids. Which is not a bad thing, I like having so many different friends, and not everyone needs to have kids. However, I do need to make an effort to get him a few more play buddies. That way when we got to an event he is not the odd man out.

Drew being who he is made the best of the situation and went off to play on some big rocks at the camp ground where the wedding was being held, but I felt for him. I need to get him some more buddies for sure, but then it struck me, if he has a sibling, then there would at least always be someone for him to knock around with.

Make Like a Duck

Everyone tells you to let all the little petty stuff roll of your back, like water on a duck. That’s great, everyone tells you should do it, but no one has ever told me the step by step guide of how to just let all the crap roll off. How do I put an emotional shield up that allows the great stuff to get in and let’s the crap slide right off? Because if we are talking emotional shields here, I want the crap to bounce off my shield and hit the person dishing the crap square back in between the middle of their eyes. My hope is that if they are walking around with the crap on their face that they themselves dispersed, they would be stop doing it.

Seriously though, how do you not let those little swipes of meanness bog you down? I want a real guide, not just a helpful suggestions for a person such as me who is highly emotionally sensitive. Do I take a breath and try and think of something else? I’ve tried that and then 10 minutes later the incident creeps back into my consciousness and then I am still seething at the nerve of some people. Then I do that a few more times. Then I go home drink 3 glasses of wine, and eat anything sweet that I can get my hands on, and it finally goes away, but it still doesn’t instantly roll of my back like water on a duck.

Then my other question is what happens if you let everything just roll off your back. At one point do you become a push-over and not asserting ones right to not be treated like crap? After 5 incidents? After 10? Is it then acceptable to put the smack-down on them?

There are a lot of things going on at work and there is always things going on at home and I am really trying to make like a duck. I have been minding my own business, paddling around, and I have been trying in earnest to just let the water roll off my back, but it’s hard when it hits me and it feels like hail.

Rage Against the Credit Card Machine

What I need for situations like this is a big pile of “Oh Shit/F@#$ you” money. You see the place were I currently work was bought, and my job is a little bit of an unknown at the moment. If I had a big pile of cash, I could take the situation with a little more send of humor. Yeah, I know, everyone could use a big pile of cash, and I sincerely wish that everyone gets their big pile of cash, there is plenty to go around, there are just a few people holding it hostage, in the billions. I am determinded that one of those "people" are banks and credit card companies.

Every where I go banks are telling you to save, save, save as they mail you another application for a credit card. They make more money off you if you are in debt than if you have a savings account. For quite some time now, I have declared war on the credit card companies. I figure the only way to take away their power is to take my money back and just not use the credit cards, pay them off, and disconnect the intravenous feed from my bank account to their greedy and grubby little pockets.

Citibank pulled my credit reports without my permission didn’t like how my balances looked and therefore raised my interest rate because they didn’t like what they saw, even though I had paid all my bills on time. Yes, that’s correct; they looked at OTHER credit card balances like my Discover, didn’t like it and raised my rate. When I told the “friendly” customer service representative that it’s not right, her response was, “Well, it’s totally legal”. My angry retort was, “But it’s not ethical”. Why should I be punished for another credit card? While the balance was high, that was paid on time as well. And who the hell decided it was ok to snoop on my other credit card accounts and credit report? Banks, that’s who. They have the money and they have the money to put through the law that allows credit card companies to completely abuse their Universal Default law. Congress has asked the banks to back down from this vulgar practice before they take legal action. Thanks Congress, just a little slap on the wrist and everything is forgiven.

So here is my plan. Take all my money away from credit card companies. I don’t like that my rates get raised for paying my bills on time just because they don’t like the look of my credit report. I am tired of being at their whim. If I take their ability to rape me financially, it is my greatest hope that they will change their ways. So I am in the process of taking my money away from credit card companies, and building myself a little pile of F@#$ you cash. Then I would like to pass a law that credit card companies are not allowed to charge interest rates above 10%. In other words, stop being greedy bastards credit card companies.

As I told Victoria’s Secret as I closed my account, I shouldn’t have to pay 14% interest on my underwear.

Don't Tell Me

Like many people, my copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows arrived at our house on Saturday. It might as well have arrived by owl I was that delighted with having the last book in my hands.

But now I am on a mad dash to finish the book before I happen upon some spoiler. Yesterday I read 250 pages just to get a head start. I am hoping I can finish the book by Wednesday. You see I really don’t want the book ruined for me. This is my little bit of whimsy that I have been looking forward to and I will be highly upset if it gets spoiled. Like most fans of the series, we have a lot invested in it, time and emotion and I don’t want some person ruining that for me. So until then I am going to stay off the internet to some extent and stay away from the TV until I can finish that damn book.

And as much as I am looking forward to the end, I really want this to end on a happy note. I want the good guys to win, and if they don’t I might need anti-depressants.

If you need me, I will be in the corner madly reading away, eyes bleeding, hungry and thirsty, but striving for the end.

Shake Rattle & Roll

This morning at 4am we had an earthquake here in the Bay Area. It was a 4.2. Not bad, a nice little rattle. I don’t mind the little ones; it’s the big ones I mind. Every time there is an earthquake though, I find I always pause before I head for shelter. I pause to see if it is going to be just a little rattle, or if we are in fact going to shake and roll because we are “Having the big one”…again. I was here for the 1989 earthquake and the ground did in fact shake and roll.

I don’t begrudge Mother Earth the right to shift around a little. I feel like the little earthquakes relieve pressure and it is my hope that it will prevent another big one from happening. Considering there was a huge earthquake in Japan last week I am not surprised we had a little shaker this morning.

After the shaking stopped I thought about how I would describe it. You know how you hold a wiggly toddler on your hip and then you move him to the other hip? It felt like that, like we were just being gently moved to the other hip. I know that sounds like a weird description, and I have no idea why it struck me that way, but it did.

I have been on a big save Mother Earth kick lately. Without getting too preachy, if there is something that I can do to make things better then I am going to do what I can. I think that we live on a pretty amazing planet and she has taken some pretty hard hits in the last 100 years. I came across a phrase this week from Jane Austen from the book Sense & Sensibility that sums up how I feel about Mother Earth, “May we endeavor to deserve her”.

Making Amends

As most of you are aware it is very important to make amends in marriages. As the hothead of the house I am making amends to my husband all the time. But now has come the time to right the wrongest of wrongs that took place in our marriage. I must amends in the form of a bowl.

During one of my infamous hothead moments I threw out my husbands beloved Tupperware That’s a Bowl. It was this giant plastic bowl with a lid. Even though he did not actively use the bowl all the time that did not cause his love of the bowl to waiver, because when he did need it he would throw the kitchen on end to find it. He is a man passionate about his big bowl and when he needs it he lets nothing stand in his way.

There was good reason that thing had to be sent away from out house. It had stains that would not disappear; it had melted edges from the dishwasher. Even though it had a lid, it was worn out from being used for everything else except for food. That and it didn’t fit anywhere, at all. It was gigantic, and what the hell do you do with a bowl like that? Since then we have acquired a gigantic stock pot that can fit 4 crabs in it, and we have the same problem. Where the hell do you store that thing? Being the cold hearted organizer/space maximizer that I am, I threw out the Tupperware That’s A Bowl.

It was clear that when he found out that I had thrown out the treasured bowl that he was seriously contemplating leaving me. It seemed almost worst than cheating on him or betraying him. Kicking him in the balls was not as painful to him as loosing his bowl. Lucky for me, we stayed together. He forgave me, but he sure as hell has not forgotten about his bowl. I still see that he mourns the bowl.

This weekend it became excruciatingly clear that I must make amends and get that man another bowl. This weekend we were holding a wedding shower brunch for our friends and we were making a massive amount of fresh hot waffles. When he went to make the massive amount of batter for the waffles he exclaimed, “This can’t possible be the biggest bowl we have, we must have a bigger bowl”. But alas we did not. I could see the pain and frustration in his eyes and face, his whole body turned into hulk stance. It was as if I could read his thoughts. “I would have my bowl right now, but you woman, you threw my bowl out, you horrible tramp”. I delivered a lame substitute and he grumbled.

I must give the man back his bowl. It does not matter if we only use it a couple times of year; the man’s happiness is a big bowl. It arrives next week.

Self-Defeated

I often feel completely defeated when I get to work. I try really hard every morning to get my son and I get out the door on time (most of the time), put together, clean, and have everything we need. When I get to my desk and turn my computer on, I think “Whew! We made it”. It never fails. I always discover something that I have missed. Today, I look down at my crisp white shirt and there is drop of chocolate soy milk on my left breast where my nipple is and I can’t but help feel self defeated. It wasn’t there when I left the house, and I don’t recall my son spilling anything on me. (head falls on keyboard) Now today, I can’t go remove it because I am wearing a white shirt and everyone will see I am working with an 18-hour bra if I do. See it’s hot and muggy and I didn’t bring a jacket. So I must hold my head up high and pray that no one notices my chocolate soy milk nipple.

It occurs daily, it has become my own little game of “What did Ava forget today?” Some days I am running around at work and then suddenly notice that there is somewhat of a foul order wafting from my shirt. I stick my nose in my shirt and realize that once again I forgot to put on deodorant. Even when I could have sworn that I put it on this morning. I do a little mental check list before I leave the bathroom and that was on it, so how in the hell did I forget to do that?

Some days it is with my son, I will get to his daycare at the end of the day and realize that I did not in fact put extra pants in his daycare bag and he is wearing the back-up clothes that my kind daycare lady had just in case one of her daycare mom’s can’t pull it together. Monday I forgot to put pull-ups in his bag and all my son had was his swimmers for diapers, which don’t hold crap.

I feel self-defeated again today. I once again couldn’t pull everything together. I thought for sure this morning that we had made it out of the door with all our ducks in a row. Its days like these that make me want to head straight home and back to bed and we will try again tomorrow. But I never do that, I always trudge through the day and tell myself tomorrow will be the day I pull it all together.

Expectations

I don’t what I was expecting. Yes I do know what I was expecting, a spontaneous combustion of something, anything. A smile, a cheer, a little jumping up and down, that is what I was expecting, not any reaction at all.

Drew has been talking about going to Discovery Kingdom or “Discovery Tingle” as he like to call it for 5 months. Every time the advertisement comes on the radio or TV, we would spend the next twenty minutes talking about it. He was so excited about Thomas the Tank Engine Town, and riding Bertie the Bus. We would talk about all the animals that they had there and what we were going to see so when we got to Discovery Kingdom and there was no reaction what so ever, I was a little bummed. I thought there would be some squealing just some positive reaction, instead he was just there hanging out.

It did occur to me that I was putting entirely too much pressure on the situation, I mean for gosh sakes, we are supposed to be having fun, weren’t we? He seemed to take it all in a very pensive manner. It almost seemed like he was unsure of what to do. I am sure he had a good time, I think.

So this was a clue to me to just chill out and let him enjoy or not enjoy a situation for what it is. I will take him to experience all of things, but I will not expect a reaction.

The Summer of Amusement Parks

It seems like this summer we are loading up heavy on the amusement parks. First was Great America, which if you live in the Bay Area in Northern California is a staple of ones childhood existence. My cousin invited my family and I for a day of fun. We wanted to take Drew and have him test it out. We wanted to see if his jumping off the couch self could take the real adrenaline rush of kiddie rides.

Great America was nostalgic for my cousin and I. We went there growing up, my husband didn’t get it. We were so digging on the nostalgia that we rode our favorite rider there, The Demon. The ride invoked terror back in the day, but is nothing more than fuzzy slipper compared to the new coasters of today. But we rode because that is what you do when you are reliving what little bits of your childhood that you can. We were scared alright, but on a whole different level. It literally hurt the whole time we were riding it. I don’t remember being jiggled like that when we were younger. Getting off it was clear that we needed a MRI and Chiropractor. I have never felt my brain jiggle inside my head. Both her and I had a killer headache the rest of the day.

However we pressed on and after The Demon, I was ready for the slower pace of the kid rides at 10mph. Drew loved it.

Tomorrow we are heading to Discovery Kingdom where he will get to go to Thomas the Tank Engine town, see whales and tigers. I am so excited to take him. And then next month we will be doing Legoland, Sea World and the San Diego Zoo. I was thinking about doing a comparative analysis on all the parks, but I think I will spare ourselves that and I will just post pictures.

Its fun being an adult and taking yourself to do all the fun kiddie things, especially when you have a kid.

Niche-less

It is really important to me to keep in contact with people from my past, however lately I am beginning to rethink that. I have two best friends that I keep in touch with from High school, Mia and Serena (Names changed for obvious reasons). They are people that I love to hear from and cheer on.

My friend Mia was there for me in High school when no one else was, you see I was date-raped by the Class President of our school, and she was the only one who believed me. So for that, I will forever be grateful to her. She also understood that I lived in an abusive home and things were different for me, and she did not judge me for that either. And for that I will also be forever grateful. We were in each others weddings, and we had a great time reconnecting. We had drifted apart during the college years, which naturally happens when two people go very different directions. However, in later years, she has gotten a little judgey.

Right before I got married, our old gang of friends from high school all got together. While one of my ex-boyfriends was admiring my ring, my best friend Mia piped up with, “Bezel settings always make diamonds look bigger than they actually are”. Wow! That left-hook came from out of nowhere. Why take a shot at me over my ring? And unfortunately, I have always been a little sensitive to shots like that. It was humorous that one of our old friends Andrea was there too and was refreshingly honest about the situation and immediately piped in with, “Mia, you’re such a bitch”. Thank you Andrea! While I don’t think Mia was a bitch, I just didn’t understand why she would say that and over a stupid ring at that.

Another jab was flung my way when we had e-mailed each other a year after. She asked how I was doing, and I was honest about how things could be better in my life and I was working my way there. My husband and I were in the middle of changing jobs, moving to San Francisco, and we just had a baby. I was honest about the adjustment not being an easy one for me. To which she replied, “Well you always did have trouble finding your niche”. Again, I felt like I just was sucker punched in the gut. Did I do something that I am not aware of? Did I maim your pet or something? What was my heinous crime, and where was this coming from? If I did something wrong, then please tell me so that I may set it right, but quit taking shots at me. If I wanted a passive aggressive comment war, I have my mother. Niche? Are we still in High school? I thought I made my niche when my husband and I got married and started our own family? Rather than pursuing the meaning of her comments, I drifted away. It wasn’t worth the conflict.

It might be worth mentioning that she married her high school sweetheart, whom I happened to have dated and then dumped before they even got together in high school. It’s not that he wasn’t a great guy, he was, but he just wasn’t the one for me. I knew that he and I weren’t going to work and so I set him free. I did that with all my boyfriends, if it wasn’t right, they hit the door, normally hard. Good thing I dumped him because they got together right after that. They broke-up in High school, before senior year, normal High school drama kind of stuff. I know, shocker. They rediscovered each other after college, they got married and had babies. As they were quite the item in High school and I am glad that what the found in each other has worked out for them.

Now and then I hear from her, mainly she is touting her latest good news, which I am infinitely happy for her. When I respond I congratulate her on her good news, I then only share a snippet of my life. I don’t share too many details just that we are doing great. And then she does not respond. Once I asked her if she had gotten my e-mail, to which she responded, “I got your e-mail, but I am so busy with Todd’s promotion and finding a new house that I don’t have time to e-mail you back”. Okay then. Where is Andrea when I need her to pipe in now?

I feel that when she “shares” her life with me, I keep getting slapped with something, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. I feel like that we are in a competition, but I don’t quite understand why. She has her life, the one that she always dreamed of. She married her high school sweetheart, she is a stay-at-home-Mom, and she is moving back to our hometown on the heels of her husband’s promotion. I can honestly say that I am genuinely happy for them. More joy to them. But it’s not my dream. Her life is not the life I want, and I never have.

I never brag about my husband’s promotion or how much money he makes. While paycheck is important for eating and keeping the lights on, I value him by his heart and the way he treats our son and I. I don’t brag about where we live. It doesn’t matter where we live as long as we are together, and we live in the Bay Area anyways, we could be millionaires and still only be able to buy two 2x4’s and a piece of plywood for a house. I like to live my life my way, and if that means that I don’t have a niche, well then, I guess I am going to be ok with that. I love my family, I have great friends that I love dearly, and I have a great extended family. Now that I have graduated High school and College, do I really need a niche anyways?

30 Days until Vacation

My husband and I have not been on vacation since our honeymoon almost 6 years ago. See we went through this thing called the dot.com fall-out and it has taken us quite a bit of time to recover financially. We have taken weekend trips here and there, but 5 days consecutively off together has eluded us for 5 years and 9 months.

Last year we were supposed to go to the beach for four days with family. The nursing home where my Grandmother was staying at tried to kill her with an overdose of pills and dehydration, so with great reason, we cancelled the trip. Even though I was concerned for my Grandmother and by her side, I still really needed that vacation. I was angry and depressed that I had been robbed of a few days off, away from the house and away from work.

To appease the vacation beast, my husband sent me to spa for a few hours to chill out. While I was calm and rejuvenated, I vowed that next year, we would take a vacation, outside the house, and for more than four days, and sure, we will bring the kid.

I am feeling a little guilty. We passed up seeing my husband parents this year to be able to afford to go on this vacation. My husband wasn’t really excited about going to see his parents anyways, so we decided that we would be much better served by taking a vacation. You see we have been working really hard to pay off the heinous debt that plagues us. And I figure if they really want to see us, they can get their retired asses down to see us. That is exactly what they are doing before we go on vacation. So the in-laws are coming and then I get to go on vacation. No big deal, focus on the big prize, Sea World and warm weather.

But my husband’s Mom is pushing hard for us to come out for Christmas. Oh darn, we just spent ALL our time-off on vacation. Besides, my husband hates the cold and going home to Idaho, I am not about to torture him for Christmas.

Got Bugers?

Our friend Samantha was over hanging out with us on Saturday. Drew adores Samantha. He adores her so much that he picked a buger out of his nose walked over and said, "Samantha, here's a buger".

Apalled that my son was offering up snot bugers as tokens of affection I said, "We don't give bugers to anyone, let's get you a tissue". Drew replied, "It's like butter". Samantha, my husband, and I all died of laughter. Not quite sure why we were laughing, he dug in his nose again and said, "I got another one". Need a little love, here's a buger. (still laughing)

MOLH = Mom on Lunch Hour

I need a sign on the top of my car that lights up with “MOLH” signifying to everyone that I am a Mom on my lunch hour and I only have an hour to get all sorts of crap done, including eating.

It’s not that what I have to get done is more important than anyone else’s, it’s just that I don’t have a lot of time to get things done, and if everyone could just clear the road and pick up the pace that would be really great. Then I could get 5 errands done instead 2 in an hour.

And I have to be back on time, because I don’t want to turn into FMOLHT2L, which equals Flaky Mom on Lunch Hour Taking too long, and now her boss is getting pissed. I have to keep my boss happy and keep my family running and I only have an hour in which to do that.

It should mean that I get a special line at the grocery store, the drug store, and Target.

"Born on the Fourth of July"

Today is your third birthday and don’t worry I will never sing Yankee Doodle Dandy to you.

Your birth announcement said, “Arrived with a Bang!” and that is exactly what you did 3 years ago, you were born during the fireworks finale at the hospital in Berkeley, CA. We couldn’t actually see them because you were being stubborn and we had to go get you by C-Section. But your Aunt Mandy and your Uncle Jefferson were outside the operating room and they watched the fireworks.

Your Dad was overwhelmed with emotion when he held you. Meanwhile I was asking for a tummy tuck while they were putting me back together on the operating table. I figured while I they were down there, they could do a girl a favor. The moment was not lost on me. I was dying to hold you, but they wouldn’t let me until the drugs wore off two hours later. Nana, Grandma Mary, Auntie Mandy and Uncle Jeff all got to hold you before I did. It was unfair torture. But they were kind enough to hold you up to my face and that is when I got a whiff of your baby smell and fell in love. From that day on I would smell you and be intoxicated. Even though you are three, there is still a hint of baby smell on the back of your neck that I take advantage of every chance I get. You tell me to stop, I know I am cramping you style, but I can’t help it, I’m utterly addicted.

You and I didn’t quite get along at first when we got home. When everyone left and it was just you and me, you were not happy unless I was holding you and rocking you. You would scream at me while I took a two-minute shower, or if I put you in your swing so that I could make something to eat. We finally came to terms with it and you and I spent the summer rocking in the rocking chair. We finally achieved peace, as long as I didn’t stop rocking. Till this day, if you are upset and inconsolable, we head straight for the rocking chair and we rock it out.

However, you were also a complete Daddy’s boy since the day you were born. It could be because your Dad relentlessly sucked goo out of your nose those first few days, and when I couldn’t breast feed, we pumped so you could eat. Daddy fed you with a little tube taped to his finger, and he was so proud. Daddy was a hero and always took the night shift so I could get some sleep. Dad would stick you in the Baby Bjorn and you would sleep next to his chest while he worked at night. Dad works best to techno music, and to this day a good thump-thump techno song will put you completely asleep in the car.

Grandma and Papa came everyday the week you were born and fed us and adored you. They kept us alive that first week, we needed all the help we could get. I will be forever grateful for them bringing us food, a bassinet, supplies, and offering all that love and support that got me back on my feet after surgery. They were enamored with you from the beginning and still are.

The day I had to go back to work was one of my darkest days; I was so depressed for months afterwards that I couldn’t be home with you. We couldn’t afford for me to be a stay at home mom, but know that it was what I wanted most in the world. However, I brought in the best crew ever for taking care of you, the Boo Nannies, Auntie Mandy and Auntie Leanna. Auntie Leanna took care of you for the first year and she did a great job. We were living in San Francisco and she took care of you like a pro. Then Auntie Mandy came down and she spoiled you and relished in your cuteness. Auntie Mandy loved you as if you were her own. You and your Auntie Mandy have a special thing and I am so glad that you two have that special bond. Your nickname was Boo, and they were your devoted Boo Nannies.

Your first two years were filled with fun and discovery, each milestone was a joy to behold. You were an easy kid until you turned two and decided you had to assert your independence. We totally understand. But can you wait to call your parents by their first names until you are an angst-ridden teenager, that started when you were 2 1/2 and figured out that mommy and daddy had names. Your first word was “duck”. You loved Sesame Street and Blue’s Clues. You had the alphabet down by 2 ½ and now you can count all the way 15. You knew all your colors and shapes by 2 ½ as well. You love your daycare lady Miss April and you hang out with your buddy Ryan all day.

Everyday you crack me up and fill your Dad and I with joy. Even when you test your limits and wind up in naughty corner with your nose to the wall, we love the heck out of you. I love the way you move your dinosaurs across the dining room table in a herd. I love that you put diapers on your big mean T-Rex. You love playing in your sandbox with your tractors, and I love the way you make your cars talk to one another. You never fail to make us all laugh when you come into a room and you say, “What are doing guys?” Your favorite movies are Cars and Happy Feet.

A big smile fills my face when you throw your arms around me and say, “Silly Mommy”. That right there is what I want our relationship to be, a relationship where we can have fun together and laugh. I know we will face all the hard stuff together that comes with growing up, but as long as we can laugh about it, I think we will be ok.

Drew on your third birthday my mothers wish is for you to have a lifetime of love, happiness, wealth, and health. Know that your Dad and I love you like crazy and we feel so blessed to have you in our lives. Now for the love of god, please get potty trained.

Grandpa's Magic Juice

We all make fun of him for it, but the fact of the matter is that my 86 year old Grandpa is the healthiest one in the family because of his magic juice. The magic juice consists of every fresh vegetable and fruit he has in the fridge and he throws it in his juicer. Every morning, he gets up and makes his juice and it sets him right with the world.

But as you guessed, when you throw every vegetable in the fridge, it has a unique taste. And when I say every vegetable and fruit I mean he will throw radishes in with celery, mixed with bananas, lettuce, berries, watermelon. Anything fresh, skin and all ends up in his juicer. As he will tell you, it’s all about the skins, that is where all the nutrients are. It’s a little palpy to say the least, but if you add in more fruit than veggies and you concentrate really hard, you can choke it down. However, Grandpa throws his juice back like a shot of whisky, and he let’s out “whoooo wheee, good stuff” after he takes his last gulp.

If you are staying with Grandpa, you always have the juice with him. There is no refusing the Magic Juice that will give you energy and make you poop on time.

But he really is on to something, my Grandpa drinks his Magic Juice and he exercises for an hour EVERY day, mostly cardio. That man is still out gardening and training horses at 86. He really enjoys life and doesn’t let anything slow him down.

But don’t complain about being sick around him, you will end up with a glass of Magic Juice. If you had trouble choking it down at breakfast, a second time that day is not any better. I raise my glass of Magic Juice to you Grandpa. Thank you for setting a great example!

Cupcake Mission: Failed

The road to hell is paved with good intentions. The road to Pismo Beach is paved with the squashed remains of cupcakes.

All my son wanted for his birthday party was cupcakes. We couldn’t even manage that.

11:15am – Pick-up cupcakes from Bakery. It turns out when I ordered the person making them can’t read and made the wrong ones.

11:16am – Storm away from Bakery

11:20am – Wrong cupcakes get smooshed in shopping cart as husband take wrong turn into stacks of bottled water

11:25am – Return smooshed cupcakes to Bakery and select equally lame substitutes for cupcakes

11:35am – Carefully make it out of market with cupcakes.

11:37am – Son moans longingly for cupcakes.

** And this is where I should have given my kid his cupcake for his birthday, lunch be damned**

11:45am – Give my Mother and Aunt cupcakes and tell them to guard them with their lives. We make our way to the beach for Drew’s birthday party.

12:00pm – Mother and Aunt give me back the cupcakes that have now been turned upside down and smooshed. They then proceed to blame it on Grandpa. I know Grandpa didn’t do it.

12:30 – Cupcakes start to coagulate.

1:00pm – Against my wishes, my mother proceeds to open the box of cupcakes and re-ice them, getting sand in the icing in the process.

3:00pm - Child sees cupcakes and freaks out, and he gets a bite of the sandy cupcakes, which he then spits out, because of the sand. We quickly distract child with presents so that he will not cry.

3:15pm – The remaining 11 ½ cupcakes dumped into garbage.