Finally.

Hallelujah. I'm blonde again. Not orange. Not brown. Not brown streaked with orange. Blonde. Why has this been so hard, people?
I multitask better as a blonde.

And how long has it been since I've walked away from my stylist with a smile? SOOOO long. Let's hear it for Bryn and hope she keeps coming back to Hershey for us podunk gals in the sticks.

And Camie, as always, is a champion. Thanks again for watching my girls, McCullough. I always know my girls are in good (but full!) hands when they are at the Casa de McCulloughs.

Phase Three

Yesterday, Go was lucky enough to be post-call, so I woke him up in the afternoon, told him to get dressed, dropped off the kids at Tamara's (Thank you so much, again!) and took him to a totally stupid movie--The Forbidden Kingdom. He loves martial art films and I DO NOT. Since we've had our DVR, we never watch commercials anymore, so he didn't even know it was out, which made it a good surprise.

Go: So this movie has Jackie Chan AND Jet Li?!!!
Me: Yep.
Go: And you're going to sit here and watch it with me?
Me: Yep.
Go: This really is my birthday.

This movie was SO ridiculously, awesomely bad, it was almost good. I tried to find a good picture of it, but really couldn't but I did keep seeing the photo of this couple pop up on my Google image search and I'd just like to share it with everyone.
Moving on.

Then I took him to a tapas bar. No, not a topless bar, a tapas bar. There's a smidge difference between the two. The food was outrageously delish: we got grilled marinated baby octopus with a pickled white bean salsa, a pepper stuffed with crab meat in a crispy tempura batter with a chili, cashew, and shrimp sauce, grilled bread rubbed with EVOO, garlic and tomato, and little tacos with slow cooked beef, horseradish and chive sauce, and buttermilk battered onion rings.

I'm so glad we went there because I'm pretty sure if we would have gone to a topless bar, the food wouldn't have been nearly as good.

Happy Birthday, You Handsome Devil

Go is officially old. How is it that this 10 year old:
(who has had obvious fashion sense from the beginning)

And this 22 year old:
Is now 30 years old?

*Emmy, I will always be grateful to you for snapping this picture of us during the freshly budding and thus semi-awkward stages of our courtship.

Phase Two

Twice a year, when we go to Vegas, my FIL Ron loads Go up with a thigh-high stack of books and every time he says "Look at all these books! This will last me for years!" And then for the next two months, every waking moment (which isn't many) he's laying on the couch, reading a book in one hand and holding at least one girl in his lap with the other. I like these moments because a) they're cute and b) I can walk in and say anything to him and he'll be paying almost no attention to what's coming out of my mouth.

"Oh hey, I meant to tell you, I spent $500 at Target today on nothing but sparkly decorative pillows."
"Mmm-hmm."
"Ok, just never say I never told you because I just did."
"Mmm-hmm."

And 2 months later, the stack of books that was supposed to last him years has dwindled to zero. And then for the next 4 months, I get to hear about how he has nothing to read.

"Do you want me to pick you up something from the library?"
"Um...hey, wait a second. Why do we have so many pillows?"
"Uh...I asked my question first."
"And why are they so sparkly?"
"Yoohoo! Hey, look over here! Do you want any books from library?"

And he always answers no because he likes to hear his Dad's review of them before he reads them and the book withdrawal continues.

So, he's been out of books for months. This is Phase Two.
I know it's not his birthday yet but he really, really needed a good book. (Read: I really needed to stop hearing about how he really, really needed a good book.)

This has nothing to do with Phase Two, but he brought me flowers for no reason last night. I'm a lucky girl.

Phase One

(...in which Doris gets her oats.)

Go turns 30 on Wednesday, April 30th. It is his golden birthday; a golden birthday for a golden boy.

Phase One of Operation 30 begins today with his favorite dinner with our favorite not-too-distant-cousins, the McCulloughs. (The McCulloughs have a "family tree" framed up on their wall. I was sitting in their family room one day and saw it from across the room and for whatever reason thought "There's gotta be some Callisters in there." (my MIL's side) I got up and looked and what do you know? There's Callisters in them-thar trees. Go and Paul are related. Did you just get the chills? I did.)

Grilled Sirloin with Citrus Salsa
Fiesta Black Beans
Rolls (He actually doesn't really LOVE these, but he'll survive.)
Something vegetabley that Camie is insisting she bring because she is silly like that
Instead of a cake - Ultimate Ginger cookies


Grilled Sirloin with Citrus Salsa

Meat marinade:
1.5 lbs. lean boneless top sirloin
1/2 c. soy sauce
2 Tbsp brown sugar
3 Tbsp lime juice
1/8 tsp hot sauce
1 clove garlic, minced
1/4 c. green onioins, chopped

Citrus Salsa:
2 oranges, peeled, seeded and chopped
1/2 tsp grated lemon rind
1/2 tsp grated lime ring
1/2 lemon, peeled, seeded and finely chopped
1/2 lime, peeled, seeded and finely chopped
1/4 c. green onions, chopped
1 Tbsp sugar
2 Tbsp cilantro
1 tsp seeded, minced jalepeno pepper
2 Tbsp orange juice
2 Tbsp rice vinegar

Chill salsa for at least 2 hours. Marinade steak in marinade for at least 2 hours, preferrably longer. Grill steak and serve steak with salsa.


Fiesta Black Beans

16-19 oz black beans, rinsed and drained
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1 tsp cumin
2 Tbsp olive oil
1/3 c. tomato juice or water
3/4 tsp salt
2 Tbsp cilantro, chopped

Dementia is Definitely in the Cards

I just took one of those online life expectancy tests and apparently, I will live until I'm 99.5 years old. Shoot. I'm just 6 months shy of Willard Scott putting my pruney face up on a Smucker's Jelly Jar and wishing me a "Happy Birthday." But I guess when I'm 99.5, it'll be, oh, Ashton Kutcher's great-great-grand baby or someone and if I actually believe the 100's of emails I'm receiving right now, it won't be a Smucker's Jelly jar because berries will be extinct and it will be, like, an MRE Spaghetti and Meatballs. Bah-leak.

A Step Up From Last Year

It's planting time again in PA. Last year, (almost exactly to the day!) I stupidly planted pansies, an annual that doesn't last very long, so this year I learned my lesson and invested in some perennials. As you can see, our pink blossoming crab apple tree and boxwood bushes have grown like champs.

What I'm planting this year:

-Peonies!
-Hostas!
-Phlox!
-Lamb's ear!
-Rosemary!
-Sweet Basil!
-Lemon Thyme!
-Roma Tomatoes!
-Cherry Tomatoes!
-Jet Star Tomatoes! (Because the Ringgers chose this one and I trust them completely in everything they do, and this includes tomato plant selection)
-Jalapenos!
-Strawberries!

My thumb really, really wants to be green. It's trying it's very hardest. I guess the way to learn to garden and grow things is to actually try. Oh and you can bet they'll be updates. You are so excited right now.

A Very Embarrassing Moment in Just Ten Sentences

1. I always wear spandex bike shorts when I spin with seamless, padded crotches for comfort and to minimize chaffing.
2. You don’t wear them with underwear.
3. No one does; it’s just the way it is.
4. The pair I wore Friday are 4 years old.
5. At the end of class, I always go through about 5-10 minutes of stretching with everyone while we cool down.
6. One of these stretches involves standing on one foot a couple of feet away from the bike while the other foot is up on the handlebars and you're reaching towards your toes.
7. Just imagine this last sentence for a moment and when you get a good, solid mental image, proceed with reading.
8. I’ve always had a fear that someday the seams in my shorts would give way and there would be holes in my bike short’s nether regions and I’d be there in front the class, just smiling and stretching away, clueless to the rips down below.
9. That fear came to pass last Friday.
10. That is all.

Loveliness

This is my 400th post. What better way to celebrate than a post about a great weekend?

Having our buddies, the Ringgers, live in the same state as us is SOLID. GOLD.

I was telling a friend about what we did Saturday "Well, we met our friends at a little cafe in the historical district of this tiny town and just kind of took our time eating. The kids were good, so was the food. Then we went to this state park and just hung out for a couple of hours and talked and played. We had some toys there and there was a lake and a play ground. The weather was warm and breezy..." and she said "This might sound like a weird thing to say, but that just sounds so lovely." Not weird at all. She's right. It was lovely. I couldn't have described it any better.

My girls really like to dance if you hadn't figured that one out already. They also like to smear their food all over themselves when they eat.

My date.
The Dads and kids down at the lake. It looks cold but it totally wasn't.

It doesn't get much cuter than this. Stupidly, I never got a shot of her face. But trust me, this little girl's squealy smile is more contagious than conjunctivitis. And much more pleasant.

And some more pictures of our walk Sunday, which was also lovely.

Just In Case You Were Wondering What Going On A Walk With Ruby Was Like

Consumerism For Dummies

Three examples found inside my very own home:

1. THE TOTALLY OBVIOUS:
In our frozen pizza's "Baking Instructions" for dinner tonight: (don't judge me, it's been one of those days)

"Do not eat pizza without cooking."

Whew, that was a close one. We would have been sitting at the dinner table, gnawing on our frozen pizza for hours if it wasn't for those instructions. Thanks, frozen pizza guys.


2. THE TOTALLY RIDICULOUS:
On my bottle of conditioner:

"CAUTION: Before use, a preliminary patch test should be made. IMPORTANT: A preliminary patch test should be made before application. With soap and water, carefully choose a skin area the size of a quarter on the inner elbow or behind or near the hairline. Apply conditioner to the cleansed area with a piece of cotton and allow to dry. Leave unwashed and uncovered for 48 hours. If no sign of irritation or redness appears, proceed with application. Do not use on abraded or abnormal skin."

"Hey, you've got something on your inner elbow."
"Oh, that's just my conditioner. I'm doing a preliminary patch test."
"A preliminary patch test? What's that?"
"I don't really know. The bottle told me to do it, so I did it."
"The bottle told you to?"
"Well, it didn't tell me..."
"I know, I was just kidding."
"Oh. Ha-ha-ha-ha."
"Yah, I can be really funny sometimes. So how is the test going so far?"
"Well, there's no sign of irritation or redness, so I'll proceed with application in an hour. It's been there for 47 hours. Just one more hour to go and then I can take a shower."
"Well, it's a good thing your inner elbow wasn't abraded or abnormal."
"You can say that again."
"Ha-ha-ha-ha."
"Ha-ha-ha-ha."

And scene.

This concludes my proposed script for the public service announcement needed for the endorsment of preliminary patch tests of conditioners campaign. I think it will be a sensation that will sweep the nation.


3. THE TOTALLY AWESOME:

Found on a package for a Texas Hold 'Em Poker Set: "For ages 3 and up."

Sorry, two year olds. You can't play poker with us tonight, not until you're three. Now run along and go back to playing your little Russian Roulette game.

Let The Madness Begin

It's happened. Ruby is officially aware and thus, enthralled with all things
Hannah Montana/Mylie Cyrus.

Sigh.

And you know I tried my darndest to expose her to quality female musicians.

"Hey Ruby. This is Joan Baez. Isn't she rad?"

"How do you feel about Tegan and Sara?"

"Mama Cass?"

"Some Ani Defranco with your Cheerios this morning?"

"Hey, here's Jenny Lewis. You'll like her."

"How bout a little Nico before you take your nap?"

"Ok, fine. Feist. Who doesn't love Feist?"

Nope. Mylie.


Oh well. I guess it could be worse.

Ten Items of Which I Have No Intention of Ever Returning

1. A humongous sweat shirt that belonged to one of my brother's friends. Go now wears it when I make him BBQ and it's February.

2. Another sweatshirt, but much smaller. I'm pretty sure its rightful owner is one of my brother's old girlfriends.

3. An assortment of socks belonging to an assortment of my exes. Most of them were thrown away years ago, but some have been made into sock monkies, made to resemble their previous owners. They now line the tops of my book cases. Just kidding, they've all been totally biodegraded in some landfill by now...after I made them into sock monkeys, made to resemble their previous owners, that is.
4. A small stack of CDs belonging to the aforementioned motley crew. Mötley Crüe?

5. A pair of scissors of an old room mate's. Her name is written on the shears with nail polish and I think of her every time I'm creating my ransom notes.
6. A copy of On the Road, which I had borrowed from a dreamy beatnik who a week later dumped me hard core. Sucker...I still have your book.
7. A couple of CDs, which I borrowed from a guy who a week later, I dumped hard core.

8. My brother's $200 straightening iron. Yes, you read that right. $200...My brother's.

9. My friend from high school's yellow bath towel.

10. An Oingo Boingo CD which was lent to me by a creepy guy I met at BYU and successfully avoided for the rest of my time there. Weird Science, indeed.

11. My Mom's Go-Gos CD. i'm totally lying, mom. i really don't have it. i swear.

Raise Your Voice for Type 1 Awareness Day

Did you know that April 14th is Raise Your Voice for Type 1 Awareness Day? You didn't? Well, now you do.


What Ruby (4) has to say about her Type 1 Diabetes:

"I have to care about my Diabetes to make sure I eat no sugary stuff without my Mom there. A lot of my friends know that I shouldn’t have sugary stuff. May-May doesn’t have Diabetes; I’m the only one in the family that has it. When I die, I won’t have Diabetes anymore; they don’t have Diabetes in heaven. When I get to eat something, my Mom pumps my insulin but no one else can touch it and one time Braylen touched it but nothing happened so it was ok. I feel good about my Diabetes but I wasn’t very good about it back when I picked my pump color because I wanted red or pink, not green. I don’t like brown. I like rainbow. I don’t like black. I only like red, pink and purple. And hot pink. But they don’t have those colors. If I knew other kids with Diabetes, I wouldn’t say anything to them about it because I wouldn’t want to hurt their feelings. And if they had a pump, I wouldn’t push any of the buttons, either."


What I, Ruby's Mom, have to say about Type 1 Diabetes:

-it's the pits--the big, stinky, hairy kind but with all things that are big, stinky and hairy, it has made us stronger.

-when I meet a child with Type 1, the first thing I want to do is hug them. The second thing I want to do is hug their mother.

-There is a huge difference between Type 1 and Type 2. Type 2, you can help prevent by eating right and exercising. With Type 1, the Great Wall of China couldn't prevent it. Also Type 1 requires shots. Lots of them, daily. Type 2, you can take a pill. Big difference.

-I've mentioned this before, but let me re-iterate: If you meet someone who's child has Type 1, do not proceed to tell them about how your uncle/cousin/half-brother/etc. who has Type 1 just had his foot amputated/kidney transplant/went blind, etc. Just don't.

-Also, if your cat has Diabetes, don't launch into a pity party and try to compare your situation with my kid's. Because:

a) I hate cats and you will receive not an ounce of sympathy from me.

b) YOUR CAT IS NOT YOUR CHILD. Your cat is your cat. Did you carry your cat in your womb for 9 months? Did your cat make you gain 50 pounds? Did you wake up three times each night to nurse your cat for the first 6 months of its life? Did you sit by your cat's hospital bed and have to try to explain to her why she has Diabetes? Did you have to tell your cat at birthday parties that she can't have any birthday cake but you brought a nice cold string cheese for her to chew on while the rest of the kitties happily dig into their cake and ice cream? Do I really need to keep going?

c) Please refer to letter a.

-The thing about Type 1 that really kills me is this: it never goes away. It's always there. Ruby never gets a break from it. I never get a break from it. I've heard that teenage boys think of sex every 7 seconds. That's me, but with Diabetes.

-We're coming up on Ruby's 2 year diagnosis anniversary and I think, just in the last little while, that I've finally completed the 5 stages of coping...for the 10th time.

-We need to help our children, especially our girls, have a healthy body image, which is hard to do when we, as adults, struggle with it as well. This is particularly important to me, as I have girls and one of them is diabetic. A study in 2005 showed that 25% of all girls with Type 1 Diabetes develop eating disorders. This freaks me out.

-Yes, my other kids have a higher chance of developing Diabetes as well. Sometimes I look at May and wonder if there's a ticking time bomb in there somewhere.

-I just want to thank all of our friends and our families. Thank you for your support, concern and love that you have shown to Ruby. Thank you to my Las Vegas family, who came to see her in the hospital and brought her fun things to play with and didn't make her feel like a freak. Thank you to friends everywhere who sent emails of encouragement and phone calls of reassurance. Thank you to our friends here in PA who think of Ruby's condition when planning a function; you have no idea how much I appreciate the inconvenience, the hassle, but especially the thought. The more children (and adults!) who know about Diabetes, the more accepted it will make Ruby and other children with Type 1 feel so thank you for learning about and teaching your children about Type 1 Diabetes.

To learn more about Type 1 Diabetes, check out these sites:
American Diabetes Association - Type 1
JDRF - Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation International
Six Until Me Blog

The Outer Space Target

Ruby: Mom, why do people go to outer space?
Me: To see what's up there.
Ruby: Like the stars and stuff?
Me: Yep.
Ruby: What else is in outer space?
Me: Planets. Moons. The sun...
Ruby: Target?
Me: No, not Target.
Ruby: Well, I think they'll have one up there some day. And then I'll go shopping there for all my space stuff...And all my normal stuff, too.

Mellow Yellow

I'd just like to defend myself and say that my walls are not really as yellow as they appear in these Photobooth photos. They are a soft buttery color and our Mac is awesome but cruel. It makes it look like I painted my walls the color of a school bus. But I didn't. It's very tasteful. I just wanted to say that. Ok, now go back to doing whatever you were doing.

This is How I Feel About That

Today I am wearing pants that I haven't been able to fit into since I had babies.

P.S. - I didn't fall asleep until 5 a.m. this morning. I feel the opposite of this picture about that.

I Turn Into a 10 Year Old When I'm Tired

It's 1 a.m. and I'm not tired.
Eyes open, shut, my brain is wired.
Sheep, come now, do your job.
Do you want to be a lamb kabob?
I didn't think so, let's see you leap!
That should get me right to sleep.
1 - 2 - 3 - 4
This is boring. I'm out the door,
And down the stairs and here I am,
Awake and typing after 1 a.m.
Nonense! Nonsense! Googley goo!
Shooby-dooby-poo-poo-poo!
That last part was for my groom,
Who laughs at all things "bathroom,"
Always changing lyrics that he sings
To have to do with bathroom things.
Like bottoms, "B.M." and even pee,
Yes siree, he's almost 30.
And educated to the highest degree
And performing daily surgery!
It's not his fault, it is his mother's,
Who gave him 7 other brothers.
But I digress, what was I saying?
Oh yes, I really should be laying
Down to sleep but I just can't
So I'm blogging this late night rant
Of the injustice of insomnia.
And nothing rhymes with insomnia!
I'm not surprised by this at all.
Insomnia is a B.M. ball.

Turning A Lemon into Crystal Light

Sometimes I don't really mind being poor. Especially when I turn on the old TV we have in our bedroom and have to pound on it with my fists a la Arthur Fonzarelli to get it to work. I love feeling like The Fonz. Aayy!

A Quick Jaunt to NYC