Merry Christmas 2010

Peppermint Bliss Christmas Card

Shop Shutterfly.com for elegant Christmas photo cards.

View the entire collection of cards.

Mr & Mrs Anderson

Mr & Mrs Anderson 09/04/10 - slideshow maker with music

We were all on edge during "Earl"'s travels, but thankfully he turned out to be all huff and no puff and Carin & DJ's wedding went on hurricane free. Aside from the photographer's purse being stolen at the church, men's warehouse screwing up the entire wedding party's tux rental and a flower girl meltdown, the wedding proceeded without a hitch. Thankfully thanks to some good neighbors, an astute limo driver, and an all points bulletin, the thief was arrested and the photographer got her belongings back. I'm not sure if the photographer was able to get any photos of MJ in his tux however, due to the fact he was unbearable uncomfortable from all the safety pins and paperclips holding it together (mens wearhouse at its best folks). Mommy was able to sneak a few though, and after changing into his "ring security" outfit, he was good to go. All in all, a good night, complete with uncomfortable drunken relative moments.

Falling To Pieces

Being the smart mouth, tough "softy", little person with a big mouth and quick come back was always natural to me. I've always felt like I had to hold it together, even when I was falling apart, because I felt it was my civic duty as a child, to make sure my parents didn't worry about me. I'm of the opinion, if you're going to do something, do it right or don't do it at all. So of course, I start life as a walking natural disaster. I started the chain of one of many surgeries when I was 18 months old. I was born with a congenital heart defect where my Aorta was crushing my trachea AKA innominate artery , which in turn would cause me to code at the drop of a hat, and was further compounded by yet another birth defect in the structure of the bronchus in my right lung AKA the breathing tubes AKA pig bronchus,not the cute kind of pig either which only allows me to receive 60% lung function on my right side. So, in layman's terms : Heart defect that squishes air tube + existing non operable lung defect = Very sick baby, almost dead baby. By some miracle of God the Dr's at Mass General Hospital in Boston figured out what the malfunction was and fixed the offending defect in July of 1985. My parents say there after it was like day and night. Well, more or less.


I continued my adolesence through a perverbial revolving door at the Operating Room, almost like a comedy of errors. It might not have been funny at the time, but seriously, who gets a joint replacement in middle school because you got struck with a softball. Me, that's who. I almost died that time too. Like I said, if you're going to do something, do it right, or go full out. I got diagnosed at 17 with endometriosis, after OBGYN shopping for severe pelvic pain and periods from hell, I finally had a doctor (at least temporarily) who would listen to me. No asshole, I wasn't trying to get pain meds, I want you to end the pain, I don't want any god damned pills, I want you to find out why I turn into Sybil and bleed for 3 weeks every month - thank you very much.
By the time I graduated High School at 18, I had 18 surgeries - one for every year I was alive. It's really comforting to hear "what are you having done THIS time" from your friends, awesome. It's also a good ego booster to have to be medically excused from gym class and any team sports because it might, literally, kill you. It does wonders for your social status too, incase you were wondering, but thankfully I wasn't alone in social pergatory in High School. The art room was way more fun than lacrosse anyways.


The following years were a series of inexplicable medical mishaps and mysteries, Pancreatitis twice, Endometriosis surgery (again), Sinus surgery (for the 3rd time), diagnosis of a Mitral Valve Prolapse, mis adventures through the wonderous land of birth control (note to self, Ortho Evera Patch = Bad, very Bad), Cervical Dysplaysia and two perfect pregnancy's (take that Endometriosis!)and with a brief reprieve, I am back at square 1, whatever the hell that is supposed to mean. I fell like a big bag of shit, between my right clavicle that is incased in arthiritis (WHO gets that at my age?!? honestly)and impinging my rotator cuff and all the nerves, and my endometriosis that is sucking my will to live (because its completely normal to bleed straight out for 4 months and pass out from the sharp pains), I'm spent. Oh and let's not forget the daily choking episodes that have made it all but impossible to eat with out anxiety and 9-1-1 on speed dial. Fear not, I have my first of the two procedures tomorrow to help decide whether it is Lupus, eosinophilic esophagitis, or severe GERD that is causing all of the swallowing difficulties. Hooray!!! What's more liberating than having a scope down your nostril while you're awake .....


I do not faulter though, I'm not allowed to. Having to drag my sorry ass into work aside, I'm a wife and a mother, oh and I don't want to worry my parents (they've had their fill over the past 27 years). I grew up with a sick mom, a very sick one at that. It fucking sucks. I don't want to do that to my kids or my husband, I don't want to be the emotional burden that makes them worry if I'm going to make it this time. That's not an option. The one thing I've gained though my life experience (besides a collection of some pretty impressive scars,intolerance to most codeine based medications and a nifty allergy to latex)is strength that I didn't know I was capable of. It's amazing what you can go through when the only option you have IS to be strong.

Mullet Free Since 83'

Ever walk into a salon or respective barber shop and just get a feeling of " this is probably a bad idea". Wedsneday was one of those times. I had been looking around the local salons for a place that looked to be half decent and not too expensive. I thought wrong. I for whatever reason decided on the salon by walmart, which was formally "Lords and Lady's", which I had gone to in the past and had a decent experience with. Not so much this time. I am , in case you hadn't noticed, kinda OCD. Once I find something that irks me I fixate on it and obscess, its one of many redeeming qualities I possess. Anyways, I walk in a and immediately noticed:
1)the furniture didn't match
2)5 out of 6 of the stylists had on acid washed high waisted jeans and/or a mullet, or femlet respectively
3)my stylists name was "Arlene" ... I know that you can't help what your parents decided to name you, but at some point when you become of legal age you'd think you'd want to change it to something that doesn't automatically conjure up the dueling banjos.


I sit in the chair and show her what I had in mind, I wanted a darker dirty blonde/light brown (with golden undertones) and heavy blonde highlights in the front, and a trim of the dead ends since I've been growing out my hair for the past two years from the aysemetrical Victoria Beckham bob I had a couple of summers ago. So what do I get. Brassy washed out blonde with highlights on top, and ashy muddy greenish/brown underneath. And as far as the "trim", in my past 20 years expirience a trim meant breaking out the scissors, and trimming off the dead ends. This "Stylist" proceeded to whip out her razor (I'm surprised she didn't see my look of horror on my face), and razor the ever loving shit out of my hair. I have very fine baby hair, YOU DON'T FUCKING RAZOR IT EVER. It looked like a six year old cut my hair, she took off a good 2 inches, and the front was cut straight across like a bob, then it was long in the back. HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS LADY IS REALLY GOING TO GIVE ME A MULLET RIGHT NOW. At first it looked okay, not exactly what I wanted, but I hadn't notice the extensive WTF until I was at the gym , which then prompted me to exit immediatly to the parkinglot. I was pissed. It wasn't cheap this butchering of my hair, it was around $135 after tip, and my hair looked like I used box color from the sale bin at CVS and used a "suck cut" ... "well it certainly does suck".




Thank god for Hotlocks in North Falmouth. I called the salon and explained the massacre that had occured , and they were super nice. They had me come right in, acess the damage, discuss what needed to be done to correct it, and the stylist even trimmed my hair and softened the edges so it didn't resemble the Tina Turner wig from the late 80's. The reconstruction project of my dome piece isn't even that bad, it'll probably be around what I paid in the first place to get my hair done. I should've gone there in the first damn place. Moral of the story: always trust your instincts, if it feels wrong, its a no go. Especially when they break out the razors *shudders*

Building Bridges

This summer has been crazy busy , not just work wise, but life in general. We've spent a lot of time with my brother and sister in law after rebuilding a relationship following a massive blow out, which turns out if people just took a minute to actually ask what the problem was instead of making assumptions, wouldn't have happened in the first place. Husband has started working on the relationship with his father and that side of the family, and clearing the air on things that have bothered him for years. He's also come to realize that some relationships are not necessarily healthy, and is learning to take some things for face value. It's hard to come to the conclusion that the people you grew up with aren't who they appear, and when they start creating a stressful enviornment for everyone around them, it's time to cut the cord and do whats best for you. I'm getting to know in laws that I wish I had the chance to years ago, and gaining the strength to ignore the hurtful and toxic behaviors from others. The funny thing about the whole thing is that I, who grew up in a house hold where you did not discuss your problems or emotions, was the one who orchastrated the whole chat session to address the issues. I felt like it was right in my heart, and faced my fears head on, you never know how strong you really are until you are faced with a problem you have no other choice than to solve.


Growing up in a emotionally handicapped atmosphere has also led me to be weary of trusting people, and I have something of an emotional block, the size of the great wall of china. The only person who has ever been able to break it is my husband and a few select friends that I've had since kindergarden. I'm just always ready for the next blow, and I figured that if I don't let that person in emotionally, when they screw me over it won't hurt as bad. It has been effective thus far, but it also slows any healing process to a complete halt. After starting to reconcile with my sister in law following a massive blow out, I acknowledged that I am a difficult person to get to know and that I was willing to work on that. She admitted and owned the wrong doing on her part, so I have to be able to acknowledge my faults in order to make any progress. No one said that being a grown up would be fun or easy, hell all I cared about in high school was having my own car and no curfew. I have both now and its not really all that special. I guess, what I've learned is that 99.999999 % of all these problems we've had is from a complete lack of communication. If we just sat down and discussed what was going on and bothering us instead of assuming, these big blow outs wouldn't have happened in the first place.

Miss Cape & Islands Contest 2010

So I conquered my fear and kicked my anxiety of being in front of a big group of people by participating in the "Miss Cape & Islands" contest held at The Sand Dollar Bar & Grill in Dennisport. I had to say I was expecting pageant hell with catty bitches, but I was pleasantly surprised. All the girls were really awesome and I had a fabulous time! Free drinks also helped :) I had an amazing time going out there and talking to people, getting the crowd pumped, I never thought I would do that. I was however dissapointed that all the girls that won were employees of that bar or associated bars, and the judges owned that bar or neighboring buisnesses. To me that falls under 'conflict of interest', bad policy. So in my quest to awesomeness I will try again at the competition being held at The Cabby Shack in Plymouth on wedsneday the 12th.

Auto Pilot

"Anyone can give up, it's the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that's true strength"
~Author Unknown

I'll give you the cliff notes on my upheaval thus far : We go on vacation to NH from July 18th - July 21st. Grampa has back surgery on the 19th, we're told he'll be admitted and then go to rehab. Come home on the 21st to find grampa in his recliner in the living room. WTF. Thursday the 22nd, I'm home by myself with the kids and my grampa is in excrutiating pain. Call rescue to have grampa re admitted to CCH, he's there for 3 days does great, goes to Harborside in Mashpee for rehab on sunday the 25th. I visit him monday after my MRI and he looks fabulous, acting like him self.


Tuesday the 27th, busy ass work day from hell, thank god for my partner :)Husband is blowing up my phone, I can't talk bc of the insanity in dispatch. All I catch is "There's going to be a massive blow out between me and ****". **** is the leaching cousin from NH who treats our house like a motel and brings her ankle biting dog and leaves it for other people to tend to while she takes care of her own agenda. Anyways, she had been at the house all week while grampa was in the hospital, and Michael and the kids went to the store for 45 minutes and came back to find the dog locked down stairs, where it doesn't belong, in our living space.


Apparently the first time Michael attempted to address this with **** she was on the phone (which he didn't realize at the time ) she waved him off, Michael went down stairs to keep his head from exploading. After a few minutes he goes back up stairs to get the rest of the groceries from the car, where he is met by **** at the top of the stairs. She then proceeds to get in his face, pointing her finger in his face yelling at him, and making many accusations, the most hurtful and inaccurate of all, that we don't help my grandfather. This obviously angers Michael and he then yells back and made a comment about he better not find that dog in our living area again, blah blah blah.


Well apparently **** took it upon her self to call the police, and I had (thankfully) called my father after Michael's call to me, and the situation was a whole to do about nothing. But I was mortified that the police were called on my husband for a supposed threat. In the 7 years we've been together he's never even raised his voice to me. This woman is a complete Dr.Jekyl and Mr.Hyde, she'll be nice when people are around, but as soon as they leave she's completely rude and disrespectful to us, she manipulates people to get what she wants and was bullshit bc Michael called her bluff.


Our unwanted guest left that same night, thank god. Wednesday my brother and I go to visit grampa at the rehab, and he looks to be doing great. We discuss what happened, and I'm not sure if he couldn't really hear or understand me even though he appeared to, and then we discussed the possibility of us (Michael, the kids and myself) moving out. My grandfather seemed on board with this, saying he needed to down size, the house needs a lot of work that he can't afford or do himself. Mj starting preschool in the fall, and especially after the incident with our unwanted guest, we just really felt it was time we left. We had what I thought was a very productive 45 minute conversation, and I thought we were on the same page.


The next day Thursday the 29th, my father visits him to bring him up to speed on us leaving and the situation with the unwanted guest. Apparently my grandfather either totally forgot or did not understand our conversation the day before, bc he got all teary eyed and was insistant that we didn't leave, and that this unwanted guest would be banned from his property. I visited with the kids shortly after my dad left, and he was having an episode of shortness of breathe, chest pressure and feeling cold. The rescue was called and he was admitted into falmouth hospital, where he's been since bc they're still trying to figure out whats going on. There was no sign of any new infarction with the exception of some elevated enzymes, but its extremely difficult to tell with him bc he's had a quadruple bypass, a pace maker, tri gemini PVC's and CHF. On top of that now he's having difficulty swallowing, which is a new development.


So now we're trying to go through our stuff, pack and deal with all this crap. On top of all the stuff going on with my grandfather, I'm going for a repeat MRI on my shoulder to figure out whats going on with it, bc once through the tomb wasn't enough fun for me apparently. And I just had bloodwork, ultrasound, biopsy and removal of my IUD to figure out whats malfunctioning in my uterus and making me hate life. I have a exploratory laseroscopy and D&C to look forward to also. Awesome. So I'm on auto pilot right now, and if I don't seem like my self, that would be why, don't take it personally my friends.

Am I An Imposter?

Today was my first attempt to get back in church on sunday mornings, my old work schedule was not condusive to my church going efforts. Now my more church friendly sunday schedule has afforded me the opportunity to get back into the swing of things. So I had hoped. I think that I probably was setting myself up for disaster bringing both kids with me, by myself, since husband won't get home from work in time to attend. So after emailing my pastor back and forth after she had checked in with me over a week ago, I had looked forward to seeing her. So as the children and I took our seat I looked around and craned my neck to see Pastor Nicole, but I hadn't seen or heard her. Then service began, and there was a Pastoral Intern, apparently Pastor Nicole had accompanied her husband ,who is also a pastor, to Nantucket where he was a guest speaker. Between Pastor Nicole's absence and my wild beasts poor behavior I felt completely deflated. The Pastoral Intern did nothing to invoke my religious spirit, she did the complete opposite. I could barely hear her and I was in the third row from the front. Her gestures were without conviction , or atleast not what I had become accustomed to with Pastor Nicole. We had recieved a letter in the mail from her about a month or so ago, letting us know that she would be stepping down at the end of September to move across country with her husband, as he was afforded the opportunity to be a minister out in California, where she was originally from.


While I wish nothing but the best for Pastor Nicole and her husband, I feel like I've somehow disconnected myself from the church I had just joined. I know it's not supposed to be about the Pastor , but about the church and the community, but I just feel like that Pastor Nicole really was the spark that had made me want to be part of the church in the first place. I feel that with her leadership and encouragement I have grown not only in the spiritual aspect, but the emotional aspect as well. I spoke with her about family conflicts and worked through them as a result, something that I don't think I would be able to accomplish with out her encouragement.






I kind of had a feeling that change was in the air when husband and I, along with a few other folks, attended a church meeting to welcome new members. Someone had posed the question of the event that she were to leave, and her response was that we should feel compelled to join the church regardless of who the pastor is. I know that I should enjoy the time we have left with Pastor Nicole, and be grateful for all that she has done, and we are. I guess after the church service disaster this morning, I felt like an imposter bc I really had no interest in the service or want to be there, I guess I felt let down. I don't know who will be taking over as Pastor, there is no replacing Pastor Nicole, but hopefully there will be someone who can carry on the duties with the same passion as she.

Deciding Between Waging Battle or Throwing Up The White Flag

I'm going to try and be as discreet as possible, as there is a chance some male readers might dry heave, so I'll try and be considerate of you male folks. As some of you are aware I've been waging battle against my uterus, aka my "incubator", it's been an ongoing battle since I was diagnosed with Endometriosis at 17. Since I had baby princess last year its been considerably worse, and in the last three months it went from misery to hell on earth. I am at the point were I am physically and mentally drained, on top of all the other wonderful symptoms of naseua, migraines, weepiness, agonizing abdominal pain, blood clots (sorry), loss of appetite, weight loss, and oh yeah I've been bleeding since May 24th. AWESOME.


I've gone through pretty much every birth control ever created when I was in high school, and they made me fat and crazy. I was on depo shot for two years, which was awesome, but apparently not good for my bones. Then I was on the patch, which almost killed me when it sent me into an unresponsive hypotensive crisis , apparently having a blood pressure of 73/40 is not condusive to being alert and oriented. I tried mirena, the IUD that has low dose hormones, it worked for about a year and then I started bleeding all the time. That came out and baby princess came along. After her I opted for the copper IUD (paragaurd), which was fine, it didn't help my endometriosis symptoms, but it was effective birth control. Then my uterus decided it was going to bring on an epic battle and make me leak like a god damned BP oil well..... sorry ....


My dr from Plymouth Shore OB (they are awesome BTW) has be scheduled for an ultrasound tomorrow, I already went for bloodwork, then the end of next month I have a biopsy scheduled the same day of my IUD removal. After the results from the biopsy come back (to determine if there's a pathalogical reason for my misery), she's going to to a laperoscopy & D&C on the same day. I could have a hysterectomy if I wanted to, seeing that I've had two children, and with my history of problems, I would be an acceptable canidate.Great. It's like jury duty to me, you really don't want to do it, but you know you're going to have to eventually. Except there's no bench warrant involved if I don't show up.... but I digress ..... The only time I'm not in misery is when I'm pregnant, I LOVE being pregnant, bc I'm a sick freak like that, and with baby princess being a VBAC I could totally do it again.


Husband and I had discussed it last week, and had come to the conclusion that we have two very healthy babies, one of each, and that we are lucky to have the family we have, so why push our luck. Plus we are in no position to try and have another one anytime soon, it would be one thing if we had our own house, etc, but that just isn't going to happen for a long time. So I had accepted it as fact, and skip all the jumping through hoops to save a uterus I was just going to get rid of. So I thought.





The more I thought about it, the more I cried. It sounds incredibly ridiculous, but I would feel less like a woman. And this may sound completely vain and ridiculous, but in conjunction with the fact that I have no boobs what so ever, if I had my uterus aka "baby incubator" taken out, I could no longer become pregnant, the most feminine state you could be in. If I didn't have that what would I have, it's like taking away part of your identity. All the women in my family have had a hysterectomy, bc apparently we all have defective parts, so I know its probably only a matter of time. I just don't know if that time has to be right now.


It's just too permanent for me, I don't know if I can say good bye to this

Dad's Don't Come With Instructions

Growing up I always adored my father, I wanted to grow up and be super smart just like him. I had an equal amount of fear & respect to the point where if I was being a smart ass all he would have to do was give me "the look" over the glasses and raise his eyebrows, and I would run hysterically into my room and hide until the coast was clear,or until my dad went to work, which ever came first. I don't remember my father, or either of my parents for that matter, being particularly affectionate or squishy, I don't remember them going out of their way to tell me that they loved me, even though I know they did. My dad didn't treat me like a princess, or give into my every whim, I remember everytime I told him something hurt he would reply "then don't do that". Whenever I had some minor childhood injury and would run crying to him, I was told to "walk it off" and when I asked how long was it going to hurt for, "two weeks". Now that I think back, everything was two weeks, regardless if it was a tooth ache or a skinned knee, two weeks.


Could my father have been a little more affectionate, probably, would I have liked to hear 'I Love You' more, yeah. I do remember 'the old man' always read to me and tucked me in, everynight. He would play monopoly with me once a week, and while he didn't let me cheat, he wouldn't buy certain properties, even though I knew he should. He always kept his word, he always showed up, and he always looked out for what was in my best interests, even if I didn't think so at the time. He saved my life, literally. I was born with a cogenital heart defect that would throw me into cardiac & respiratory arrest at the drop of a dime, the ER Doc had given up when I was a few months old, and as a practicing paramedic my dad took the IV kit himself and started the line, he saved my life.





My father may not have done somethings the way I had hoped, and there may have been more yelling growing up than I cared for, but he shaped me into the person I am today. He is amazing with my children, and melts for them, gives into everyone of their requests, and fawns over every single one of their boo-boo's. He fills them full of cookies and candies, re built the chicken coop because he thought MJ would like some baby chicks, and then made mention of emptying out one of the stalls to make room for a pony. Hey, as long as it stays at their place, what do I care.


The stern man that I had grown up with, and feared (most of my friends still do), has melted away to a loving grandfather, and turned into someone I can ask life's questions too. I hope that I can be atleast half as amazing not only as a parent, but as a person, as my father is. I am thankful everyday that I have him, and so are my children.

Not To Be A Negative Nelly ... Is It Just Me?

Maybe I'm just being a "negative nelly" and missing the big picture here, but I've come to the conclusion I really have little use for the Mashpee Commons, outside of a few exceptions, it just doesn't really seem to be pocketbook friendly to the year round residents here. Growing up on cape I had always frequented the shops there and spent time with my friends going through the shops, but it feels to me that the Mashpee Commons has started to cater to its seasonal, far more wealthy clientele, en lieu of appealing to its blue collar residents.





Honestly, Gustare Oils & Vinegars, a wine & oil bar, while it certainly is a novelty, is it really something that we could benefit from in the long run? Or the Troll Beads store,where you can make your own jewlery, while the product certainly is beautiful, I can't afford to be spending $30-$100 on ONE BEAD. Seriously folks, with Ann Taylor and Banana Republic gone, I really don't have any reason to go to the commons, with the exception of getting a coffee,a cupcake or painting pottery, what is there for the average Cape Cod family to do there? All these high end shops are nice to look at and all, but how does it benefit the community in which it is located?? Because I know , atleast for myself, I am not going to be spending $78 on a baby sweater .... Just sayin' .... I'm not sure what the goal of the Mashpee Commons is, but it doesn't appear to be one involving the benefit of its community.

Providence Children's Museum

Against my better judgement I decided to bring my two little ones to the Providence Children's Museum on what was supposed to be a miserable rainy saturday, in the middle of the afternoon. Suprisingly the museum wasn't that bad at all, mind you I've worked at the local children's museum and have expirienced rainy summer saturdays ... the kind of busy where you'll need a helmet, mouth gaurd and a steady supply of excenderin migraine on hand.


Admission was $8.50 per person (babies under 1 year are free and of course Mya's birthday was 3 days before the visit), and in my opinion if you spend your entire day there and enjoy the 2 floors of exhibits and activities its worth the trip. Parking in their lot is free, but if its full you'll have to resort to the meters on the side streets. They allow you to bring in snacks and such (which is always a bonus with little ones, I know thats one of the thing that's kind of annoying about the local one), however they do not have any cafes or food service like the one in Boston, but there are several options around the block.





The first floor has the "Water Works" which was my kids favorite area to play it, and it has two giant water "tables" that kids can experiment with the cause and effect of whirlpools, build drainage systems and participate in other experiments. There's also Power Play which encourages kids in 'free play' which includes air tubes, musical pipes,funhouse mirrors, giant lite brite and other super cool exhibits.





The 2nd floor houses a construction play zone with a workable crane for kids to operate, the "Coming to Rhode Island" exhibit tells the story of the immigrants who helped build the state, this exhibit has a ship that kids can 'steer' raise and lower the flag, and go between the upper and lower decks. There is also a really cool multi cultural grocery market that has a diner inside. 'Little Woods' was a great place for princess, I felt bad that she was stuck in her carriage for fear of her being stomped on, this area is gated off, and is made specifically for kids five and under, so she got to climb around and do her own thing.


The Children's Garden is opening this friday June 11th, and features an outdoor climber, similar to the one in the entrance at the Boston Children's Museum, and 'Underland' and outdoor exhibit that features creatures burrows and tunnels.





In my opinion it's 1,000 times better than the local one, besides the fact that its bigger, in my opinion its much cleaner, offers more things for kids to do and is more parent friendly. It's a little pricey and far away for me to consider purchasing a membership ($125 for 4 people plus the 1 1/2 hour drive), however if you purchase a Association of Children's Museums Membership it provides free admission to a minimum of 4 family members of the same house hold to 165 reciprocal museums including: The Cape Cod Children's Museum, Boston Children's Museum, Children's Museum in Easton, The Discovery Museums in Acton, and The Providence Children's Museum. That to me is a fantastic deal, as soon as I can scrape together a spare $125. Website: http://www.childrensmuseums.org/visit/reciprocal.htm#MA

Day 2

Day 2 of medication was much better than day 1. MJ was able to have an uninterrupted nap, and was not sleepy thereafter. It was the 1st day in the past two years where the day was without a constant battle, yelling or multiple time outs. MJ still had his usual lack of focus,whining, back talk and freshness, but the reduction in hyperactivity alone was amazing. It really opens your eyes when you have a day where you see your son the way he really is without his personality being over taken by insatiable hyperactivity, my husband and I were not completely drained emotionally and physically by 7PM, we were able to enjoy our family without the tension and the tears. For the first time in 2 years MJ actually sat down at dinner, THE ENTIRE TIME, and ate his dinner. There was no jumping off his chair 5 or 6 times, there was no trying to pull his baby sister out of her high chair or running in and out of the living room. We only had to ask him to do something 2 or 3 times instead of asking incessantly until we lost our patience and either ended up yelling at the kid or putting him in time out.





I realize that its only day 3 today, and we have a long road ahead of us, but even getting a glimpse of our little boy's true self was amazing , and I will not stop and do anything it takes to help him achieve his personal best. I know there are still going to be rough days, and there is no magic pill, but there are tools to help you achieve your goal and in conjunction with behavioral therapy and daily routines, MJ can learn to help himself <3

Between A Rock And A Hard Place

What do you do when you seem to have all the answers, yet no solution. I've been noticiably absent this past month or so, mostly due to the whirlwind that is my family life, between my grandfathers worsening health, and MJ's escalating behavior, I'm like that supporting branch thats about to snap. We have the diagnosis of ADHD combined inattentiveness and hyperactivity, and we started day 1 today of .5 mg of Tenex which is a alapha 2 beta blocker, non stimulant and non controlled substance. Sounds like a great alternative to the stimulant medications on the market that are commonly prescribed to ADHD, however one of the most commons side effects is drowsiness or solmnence..... Today was not what I'd call a optinmal day for starting a new med, but we wanted to try and get this adressed asap ... we had an unexpected guest at our house and my grandfather was not having a good morning health wise. MJ was given a .5 mg (1/2 of a 1mg tab) when we got up at 7:30 am. 11:00 am this kid was asleep on the couch. I had to wake him up less than an hour later to go to the store, and he was extra whiney and cranky, but I did have to get him up from a nap so I figured maybe that was it.





IDK, this kid hasn't napped regularly in over a year, so IDK whether to be concerned that its the meds making him sleepy, or whether he really has needed to nap this whole time and the hyperactivity keeps him from taking the naps his body really needs. When we got home around 1:30 pm he had lunch, and was asleep again. I needed to wake him up again, less than an hour later to drop him off at my moms bc I had to work, and again he was very whiney and cranky ... So IDK if I'm hypervigilant bc we started this new med, but my heart feels like its going to explode. I don't want his little spark to be snuffed out bc of medication, and I know that its not a good thing for him to continue on the path that he's on. The beginning of the week he gave his father a black eye bc he got so excited about playing that he flung a full super soaker at his father, and with in the first 10 minutes of the exam at children's hospital he had completely covered the front of his feet and legs with marker, shredded the exam table paper, almost over flowed the sink and obsconded the Dr's reflex hammer ..... *sighs* Maybe I just need stronger anxiety medication. My husband was on ritilan when he was MJ's age, I know that Adderall has worked wonders for me (obviously not safe for MJ at this point), and MJ deserves to be at his personal best, which as it stands right now, is just not attainable ... he's a tender hearted caring, bright, and funny little man, I don't want to lose that, ever.

Something Special

Something Special
By Colbie Calliat



I found a way to be everything
I've dreamed of,
and I know it's in me
that I will become
who I want to be
and I finially found it and I'm taking the long way out
Cause it's gonna be, something special to me
Something special to me


Days go by
and I grow stronger
It takes time, but I'll never let go
Days go by and I'll try harder to make it mine, I know...
Something special to me
Something special to me
Something special to me



I've found
so many things
I've dreamed of
and I know it's in me
that I will become
who I want to be
and I finially found it and I am taking the long way out
Cause it's gonna be,
something special to me
Something special to me
[Something Special Lyrics On http://www.elyricsworld.com/ ]
Days go by and I grow stronger
It takes time, but I'll never let go
Days go by and I'll try harder to make it mine, I know...
It's something special to me


More than I hoped for
More than I dreamed of
This is how it should be.
More than I hoped for
More than I dreamed of
This is how it should be.



Days go by and I'll grow stronger
It takes time, but I'll never let go
Days go by and I'll try harder to make it mine, I know.



It's something special to me
It's something special to me
It's something special to me
Days go by and I grow stronger
It takes time, but I will never let go.
Days go by and I grow stronger
It takes time, but I will never let go.




An early Celebration for my baby princess
Mýa Renée Desrosiers 06/02/2009 7 lbs 8 ounces 19 inches long ♥

Spring Cleaning

This week was the start of my spring cleaning, however not in the sense I would've thought. This week has been incredibly emotionally taxing, but I ended up learning a lot from it. I was finally able to get a hold of my 'best friend' aka 'wife' who was MIA for the better part of 2 months. I was able to tell her exactly how her absence has made me feel, and how missing my birthday, my son's birthday and my daughter's baptism with no explanation was not acceptable. And that is not something I typically, actually, ever do. I take it and take it, because I have fallen into the role of the 'peace keeper', I hate confrontation, even if it's at my expense.


Then my sister in law had informed me that she ordered her wedding invitations, after she had already asked me to make them, all the paper & supplies were already bought, and the format was all set on my computer to start working on them next week. Mind you her wedding isn't until the 1st weekend of september, she said that she 'didn't want to worry about them', and she figured that 'I was too busy', but I could 'make the favor tags if I wanted to'. First of all, she never gave me a date of when she wanted them done by, but from planning 4 previous weddings I know that typical etiquette calls for 6-8 weeks prior to the wedding the invitations can be sent out. I tried to explain to her that I wouldn't have offered to make her invitations (which were to match the save the dates I already made, along with the rest of the paper goods needed ), and that I would've had them by the first week of June. Apparently sister in law from hell is an expert on everything and told me 'well its actually 10 weeks with the holiday weekend, these things are time sensitive'.
REALLY BITCH BC I'VE NEVER HELPED WITH A WEDDING OR PLANNED MY OWN FOR THAT MATTER?!I understand its her wedding, and people change their minds last minute all the time, but atleast let me know BEFORE you go ahead and order invitations, since I already spent time and money making what you specifically asked for. I've cut not only her but most of my in laws off, if not already putting up strict boundaries. They could give a shit about me, the only time they have anything to do with me is if they need me to do something for them, or if it has to do with the kids. All the conversations are very superficial, I tried to do things when Michael & I first started dating, but it was like pulling teeth. Everytime we are together (holidays, kids playing etc)they pretty much ignore me. They always have their 2 cents to add about what we 'should' be doing.Nothing I've ever done has been good enough, I'VE never been good enough. This past week is just a culmination of 7 years of me being a doormat, trying to make it work with people who are completely unwilling to give me a chance.


I've always tried to find happiness through other people, by making sure they're happy, instead of looking inward and being happy with in myself. And by doing so, I end up suffering in the end. I'm all done. Nice Robin is gone. I'm not going to be a malicious bitch by any means, but I refuse to sit here and let people take advantage of me and treat me like shit.

First Impressions

"I was never the girl next door." ~ Betty Page


Pin up models have been around as long as there has been commercial print, although it may be synonymous with the WWII era, their existence has been documented back to the 1890's. The pin up models that most of our society are familiar with were traditionally found in the lockers of the soldiers at war during WWII when companies became wise to the idea of using these models to advertise their products, such as gillette razors. The traditional innocence of the 'girl-next-store' pin up was lost in the 1970's thanks to magazines such as Play boy and Hustler who became bored with the Betty Page form, and unfortunately opened the flood gates to the emergence of the identically vapid genetically altered fem bot that is still in existence.


Although being a pin up model may have been meant to use the models sex appeal for financial gain, in my opinion, it has become the embodiment of what it means to be a woman. Betty Page, Marilyn Monroe,Lauren Becall, these women were a true representation of what it was to be feminine. Today it seems like all we have are walking talking vapid stick figures, nothing the average woman can really relate to.


Being a part of a retro pin up shoot, will make even the most tomboy-ish girl feel ultra feminine. There is nothing like being able to play dress up, and having your make up done, it truly makes you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, from the inside out. I was lucky enough to work with Lorraine Murphy and Genn Shaughnessy from First Impressions Pin Ups, to experience my first of, what I can expect to be, my first of many retro shoots.


The total experience start to finish, including the use of all wigs & accessories, make up professionally done by Ms.Shaugnessy, photography skills of Mrs.Murphy, a high resolution disc of all your shots (anywhere from 150-200), gas up to Boston and Parking at the Hyatt, is around $450, if you'd like your own hair professionally done that is an additional $50, and you may also add an additional hour for more costumes shots (you are alotted 3 in your 1 hour time block)for around $100. It may seem like a big price tag, and you may opt not to purchase the high resolution disc ($200) and save there (you can choose to purchase individual prints seprately), but I personally prefer to own all of the prints and be able to buy seperately, especially if you're already going to spend the time and money on a photo shoot like this. If you were going to price this type of photo shoot on your own, it would cost around 3X that much, so I think this is an amazing price :)

http://www.pinupmakeover.com/


http://www.modelmayhem.com/gennshaughnessy


http://www.modelmayhem.com/pinupmakeover

Shoulda Woulda Coulda

It's nice to know that I'm not the only one feeling like this, thanks to melting mama's recent article ( http://networkedblogs.com/30J1J ) about the 'what if's ' of life, i.e. having children early and living your life in a different path as to 'catch up' to your peers. I always felt like I never truly got to follow the path of life or what have you, like my friends did. Starting with college. All my friends went away to colleges, applying to various schools that had actual dorms, with room mates ... I went to the concrete jungle aka Cape Cod Community College. I didn't really know what the hell I wanted, I had a vague idea, I finished the high school's pre school early education program that enabled you to be certified through the state to work in any pre school as a teachers assistant, and I graduated with art honors (math kept me off the regular honor roll). So I decided since I was good at both, I'd be an elementary school art teacher. mmm kay.


I lived a very typical sheltered cape cod up bringing, the only time I actually ventured over the bridge was to go to dorm parties at my friends college, I lived vicariously through them. My parents really didn't have the money, I had a few scholarships and grants but that would never cover full time state or private school, and I was far to scared to live away from home. So 4 C's seemed the obvious choice. through the 2 year tenure I changed majors 3 times, from early childhood education, to human services to emergency medical services, and managed to single handedly assasinate my GPA thanks to undiagnosed ADHD & Anxiety. So I guess I really was better off wasting $ over in west barnstable rather than wasting $$ at a state school. But I always felt I was left out bc I never really went to a "real" school.
4 C's is supposed to be a stepping stone 2 year college, or 4 year satellite ... yeah fast forward 9 years and another major change. And most of my friends have their degrees, although most are not working in a field related to what they spent all of their $$ on. One of my best girlfriends went to Emerson and got a degree in stage management ... she works at a bank.





Facebook can be really depressing too. A lot of my friends, including my sister in law who is 3 years younger than me, are in the process of buying, or have bought, a house. That is so far out of our reach right now, its really depressing. If it wasnt for our amazing family we'd be homeless. I feel completely embarrassed and ashamed that I have to depend on other people for something that I should be able to provide for my family. But no, my dumbass went on a joy ride with credit cards and will be spending the next 3 years on a debt management plan paying them back, instead of saving for a house.


I love my children with all of my heart, they are absolutely everything to me. I just wish I guess I had done things in the "right" order I guess, so I could properly provide for them (i.e. have a house for them to call their own) and not worry about having to decide between gas for my car and groceries. I dread the day little michael wants to invite a friend over, or the day I may have to return the favor of a play date, because the house is not our own :(


When I was in high school my genious OBGYN Dr.Angus told me it would be unlikely I'd be able to become pregnant or that I would have a hard time becoming pregnant bc of my endometriosis. So after I had such a hard time with every birth control known to man, I decided to take myself off of it completely. 2 weeks later I tripped, fell and became pregnant with MJ.I still hold that Dr. Dumbass, Chris Isaak and Victoria Secrets owes me back child support .... but that hasn't panned out.


I guess the whole point that I'm trying to convey here is that I feel inadequate bc I don't have everything that I would have expected to at my age. Knowing that I'll still be living with family kills me. But I guess it could be worse, because my family is pretty awesome, even if they do wake you at the ass crack of dawn to bury deceased live stock.

Getting On My Soap Box

My husband has grounded me from watching Nancy Grace along the other laundry list of other Headline News shows, he says its too depressing, and it only exhasterbates my already dibilitating anxiety. I can't help it, maybe its because she's the greatest mega bitch that has ever lived, its part of what draws me to her show. Anyways, the whole 'update' on the Haleigh Cummings case has me in my soap box. If you're not familiar with her case, check out HLN, its on replay. Basically about a year and a half ago, 9-1-1 was called in Putnum County Florida (what is with Florida and missing/murdered children WTF already) when father 27 year old Ronald Cummings came home around 2 am from working at a factory (which initially was confirmed) to 17 year old babysitter/live in girlfriend Misty Crosslen stating some one had 'stolen' Hayley while they (meaning herself,Haleigh and 3 year old brother Ron Jr were asleep in the same room. Misty had claimed that she last saw Haleigh at around 10 pm when she went to sleep, and went on to change stories on which child was sleeping in what bed, and also went on to give an incorrect description on Haleigh's PJ's. A lot of things were not adding up in Misty's 'account' of that night. The Cummings family had a troubled past, and Haleigh's 'disaapearance' was just a tragedy waiting to happen. What gets me is that Ronald (the father) went on to marry Misty about 1 month later, even though her story wasn't making any sense and she was the last one to reportedly see Haleigh alive. WHO THE HELL DOES THAT?!?!? Not surprisingly the marriage only lasted a few months, and the two divorced, only to re unite several months later on drug trafficking charges, surprise surprise. My question is WHY IS THERE NOT A COMPETANCY TEST TO BECOME A PARENT!?!?!?! You need a license to drive a car, a license to own a dog, even a license to catch a fish, but theres no rules or regulations in order to care for a child?!?!?! WTF!!!!! And why in so many cases, does CPS give back these children of violent and drug addicted homes, where abuse has been proven, being an abuser does not stop at 'oh I promise I'll never do it again', I may be completely out of line here, but in my opinion, once an abuser, always an abuser. These poor children do not have a chance, there are so many families out there who would love to care for these children that are abuse and neglected, but the parents use them as a pawn to gain whatever advantage it is they're getting. It absolutely boils my blood. Poor Haleigh is believed to have been thrown into a river with alligators, and they're still debating on whether or not she was dead when she was tied down with cinderblocks. She was a poor defenseless 5 year old little girl with special needs, and she had the unfortunate luck of being born into the situation she was. Our children are our future, when will we as a society start putting more value on their precious little lives

(http://www.orlandosentinel.com/news/local/breakingnews/os-haleigh-cummings-dead-20100415,0,6269630.story)

"And you take me the way I am..."

Sometimes the people who mean to do the best for you end up doing the worst, not realizing the constant stream of conflicting comments only create a bigger and more complex monster. Ever since I could remember my mother chirps in with the weight comments, good and bad. I honestly don't think she was consciously trying to hurt me, just one of those thoughtless off the cuff remarks. I remember growing up my mother making comments about my short chubby little legs or my butt, especially around puberty (which is a bitch in my family) I like most girls, added some chubbyness on top of my already growing 'ackward preteen' resume. I remember playing by the pool with one of my best girl friends (who happened to be a string bean all through school) and doing a split, "your fats hanging out of the side". When all my girlfreinds took up ballet in JR high school, I wanted to go too, "you can't do that, you're too fat". I wasn't ballet material for numerous reasons, and I'm sure that the required leotard would've been less than flattering, but I was by no means a living breathing weeble wobble. Once the summer before my freshman year of high school rolled around I figured out the magic of calorie restricting, I was never good at math, but I knew that if I kept my daily caloric intake around 500 and did that same amount of crunches, I know longer was the proud owner of the ackward preteen chub.

Through out my freshman year I did not crack 100 lbs, hitting my lowest point at 86 lbs. It sounds horrifying, but given that I'm very petite I was able to hide it easier. Through out high school my weight yo yo'd going from my lowest of 86 lbs to 125 lbs when I graduated, which is considered healthy for 5'4". The boyfriend I had in high school was not particularly helpful to my weight obsession, I suppose when you take on unhealthy habits or lifestyles, you in turn attract unhealthy people. I had dated him for many years, when we started dating I was still in my very thin stage, and once I became with in a 'normal' weight range the comments from him would start. I have a lot of food allergies (which probably only exaserbates my anxiety with food) and had a very limited menu that I could eat from at the lunch room at school, which mainly consisted of chips and a drink. We would be sitting with my friends and when I went to open my bag of chips, he'd snatch them away from me and say 'you don't need to eat those'. Eventually we ended up sitting by ourselves during lunch ... gee I wonder why ....

After highschool we broke up, by my relationships with men that were less than healthy seemed to be a running theme. It wasn't until I met my now husband that I can honestly say that I'm in a healthy, loving and supportive relationship with someone who is my best friend. My poor husband knows that I'm sick, but I don't think that he knows what to do with it. I don't know what to do with it. I don't think that I look particularly sick, but my anxiety around food and eating is over whelming. Combined with various life threatening food allergies, and now a choking episode every other time I try to eat (going back and forth to boston trying to figure out if its eosinophilic esophagitis or very aggressive acid reflux), trying to eat is torture. I eat whatever I want, but I torture myself mentally over it and go to the gym every day that is physically possible, and when I don't I get physically ill. I obsess over what size clothes I am, which every woman knows is a losing battle because most companies have different ways of cutting clothes, so you might be one size in one store, then 4 sizes bigger in another. How good I feel on any particular day depends on how fat I feel.



I don't think I need to state the obvious here, That dress is a size 0 and its baggy ... not attractive


I don't think that I fit any one particular eating disorder category, I'm in eating disorder pergatory. I don't binge, I don't puke, I eat very little, but I don't consciously restrict, and I'm obsessed with the gym. I just absolutely adore the feeling of being tiny. I think a part of it is a control issue, I've had so many (non related) health issues, and an anxiety disorder, that being able to control my size is one thing that brings me comfort, and getting any type of therapy or treatment to me means taking away my security blanket.

I have two beautiful children, my son is four and my daughter is 10 months. I gained 50 lbs each time, and for anyone with a eating disorder the comments of "OH.MY.GOD.YOU HAVE HOW MUCH LONGER LEFT?!" "ARE YOU HAVING TWINS??" isn't exactly reassuring. When you lose all the baby weight and then the back handed compliments start coming in ... "you look great, just don't lose anymore weight" .... nice. I was able to stop my weight obsession cold turkey when I was pregnant both times, I think I felt safe because I had carte blanche to gain weight with out too much self hatred and guilt, because after all, I was growing a human. It's always been one or the other, either I look a little chubby or "are you eating""what is it your eating" ... when people start harassing me about my diet I just shut down, its kind of like a double edged sword, I always want to be the littlest one, yet I don't want the comments that go with it.






I know how harmful my mothers comments were to me, and I consciously don't pick at myself or make negative comments around my children, and I tell both my children that they're gorgeous every day. My daughter is very very tall, she's 10 months old and has been wearing size 18 months since she was 8 months old. I've gotten after people, particularly my mother, about comments like "beast" and "giant" .... no she's a 'supermodel' or just plain old 'beautiful girl' will do. I know that I will never ever ever make comments about my daughters body, and will not stand for anyone doing it either. My mother and grandmother are always very critical of their own bodies, and when some one you love and look up to says bad things about their own bodies, as a child, you think they are perfect, and you came from them ... so you think ... 'if they think they're fat and ugly, I must be too'.

So whats the moral of the story here? I'm not sure exactly. I know that I'm floating around in eating disorder pergatory with my 'security blanket' of body image obsession, yet it can make me so miserable. I know I'm going to fight like hell to make sure my daughter knows how gorgeous she is, and to make sure my son treats every woman with dignity and respect, and love her for who she is. Now I'm at my pre baby weight, but my old clothes aren't quite fitting the same and my body has changed ... lets just say that losing a total of 100 baby lbs can cause some sagging ... and drooping ... *I feel pretty**oh so pretty* ....so now besides the numbers on the scale, I have a whole new area to obsess about, and unfortunately the only way to fix those particular problems I'd have to visit Dr.Nip/Tuck because no amount of excersize can get rid of extra skin.




My husband, my best friend, my heart



I go through highs and lows of my own self image, if I make a conscious effort to compliment myself and try to feel good, then I do feel better, but it is a lot of work after almost 20 years of self loathing, and sometimes my efforts get lost between working a full time job, doing laundry, cleaning the house and changing diapers. Am I better than I was, yes. Will I ever be 'cured', probably not. It's like recovering from any other 'addiction' whether it be drugs,alcohol, etc, its an on going effort, some days are better than others. My husband and babies keep me from falling off the edge, because I know that they need me, even if I don't think I'm all that important, at the end of the day my husband needs his wife, and my babies need their mommy.



It's never too early to tell her she's beautiful, just the way she is

March Madness

After a week of "vacation" I'm back and catching up from this 'March Madness'. After MJ's birthday and our trip up to Boston, it was time to plan the next event, Mýa's baptism. Everything went well, it was a whirlwind, but everyone had a good time. My cousin Melinda flew up from Raleigh for the even, serving as Mýa's godmother, and my brother Chris was Mýa's godfather. We had her Baptised 03/21 at The Cotuit Federated Church by Pastor Nicole LaMarche. The Baptism was party of the church service where everyone welcomed our family and Mýa to the congregation, which was really nice. We were given a certificate of baptism along with a pink rose and hand knit blanket from the church's quilters guild, which was really sweet and thoughtful. Apart from MJ being his spastic ADHD self and almost knocking over the stand that held the baptismal water (I believe it's not officially holy water), it went off without a hitch, Michael & I were of course mortified at his behavior but everyone thought he was hysterical. Ha ha... We all shared cake following the service with the congregation, and then the family went back to our place for pizza and play time.