I think I used to know that girl

My mom is out of town so I was lucky enough to cook Sunday dinner for the fam. last night. It was good. I love to be able to do that for my family and am happy that they came over and Haley brought dessert - even if the icing slid off of my cake and no one elses.

Haley wanted to borrow some DVD's that were in my boxes of old school stuff that didn't get flooded in the basement. Finding the DVD's meant finding an old photo album that I'd actually been thinking about just the other day. The photo album is photos I took pretty much in 2001 and most of them in black and white. I might have thought I was Ansel Adams at the time but in looking at the pictures last night - I wasn't anywhere close.

The album primarily contains pictures from the road trip Haley and I took in the summer of 2001. We wanted to go to a concert, were at the time on a Barenaked Ladies Binge, and they just happened to be playing in Holmdel, NJ so we decided to pack our bags, hit the road and go on a grand adventure. And oh what a grand adventure it was. It was an "On the Road" ala Jack Kerouac style but also sort of like Jackie Kennedy and her sister Lee going to Paris, but we went to New York (and New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, and a bunch of other states...even Delaware but that was on accident.)

I knew that this picture was in my album, and that's what I had been thinking about the last little while.

It might be a little vain, but this may be my most favorite picture of myself ever! Thanks Haley for taking it of me on the top of the Empire State Building. The picture has got me reminiscing all night and most of the day today about that time in my life...which right now feels so far away that it maybe never happened, it could have just been a dream.

I don't just love that picture because of the fact that I'm nearly 50 lbs lighter than I am now, or that my hair is blowing so dramatically in the wind, or that I'm standing on top of the world, but I love what it stands for. I feel like that image defined me - who I was then. That girl was bold, brilliant, brave, and full of adventure (or at least as much adventure that I've ever been prone to enjoy). That girl was smart, funny, talented, fun to be with, talk to, and be stuck in a car with across an entire country for thousands of miles of adventure.

The problem is, somehow...I've lost that girl. I'm not her anymore. I think I want to be, but the means to finding her again seem to be beyond my grasp. Yes, life changes. We grow up, become "adults" and accept more responsibility than we ever dreamed of. The thing is, that picture was taken about seven years ago exactly, and seven years doesn't seem like that much time to have lost her - that girl with the spirit and life. It's like when Peter Pan lost his shadow and he tried to get it back on with soap and he had to have Wendy help him sew it on because silly Peter, you can't put your shadow back on with soap.

How do I get that girl back? Who can help me "sew" her back on?

I have a great life that I truly love. My monkey means the world to me! My husband, when we can actually figure out how to get along, does, too. It's really sort of a dreamy situation - stay at home working mom with a husband who earns a good wage and I still get to try and be creative and fulfilled and raise a happy and aware and kind little boy. So, what's the problem, right?

I don't know! Any of you out there on the Internets that ever read my blog have any ideas on how to find the you that you once were who is now lost and gone, hopefully not forever?

I'm open to suggestions.

Choose your Adventure, here are your options: A, when it rains, it pours; B, bad mommy; or C, Quarantine

A: When it rains it pours
This week has sucked. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. No more cruising blissfully, rather, remotely aware of the potential for turmoil, disaster, frustration, and a mild case of heart-ache. Flooded basements, fragile relationships, sick baby.

B. Bad Mommy
My little monkey has been "off" for several days. Not his chipper, banana eating self, but not too ornery either. My mother warned me on Sunday that she didn't think he felt well. I ignored her. He's had a touch of a fever off and on all week, I've ignored that. Too busy being grumpy, picking fights, vacuuming water and "flinging poo" to realize that the boy needed some intervention. He had a terrible night as did his parents. He had a slow motion morning. He woke up from a nap with such a high fever that he was completely fire truck red. As all bad mommy's do, I panicked, called my mommy, threw the kid in a tepid bath tub, forced multiple nearly frozen drinks down his throat and got him in to the first available doctors appointment.

He's sick.

C. Quarantine
My sweet monkey has an ear infection. Crap. He also has a mouth full of sores ala Hand, Foot and Mouth. Double Crap. We're in isolation for the next 7-10 days...no other small kiddies around us - probably got it from the grocery store cart on Tuesday night.

We have children's Tylenol, Motrin, Benadryl in rotation an on standby. We have ear drops and antibiotics at the helm. We also have one pathetic, sad, forlorn, tired, and a tad bit guilty mommy.

Disaster

A couple of years ago, when we were finishing our landscaping. A literal butt-load of dirt was ordered. It got delivered to the street in front of our house. The next day we got a notice that if the dirt wasn't moved, we'd be fined $1800 by the city. Upon that notice, Ross left me alone with the dirt to go to a church meeting.

I cried, said some bad words, and called in the reserves. My family, my neighbor, and some good friends came to my aide and we moved all the dirt.

Last summer, a hose was left on all day long. It flooded our entire basement. I called in the reserves, and then came to our rescue.

This morning - the same person who left the hose on last summer did it again. It was left on all night long. I had a flood in my basement this morning. It wasn't as bad as the flood last year, but there were still a few spots that were so deep my feet were completely covered in water.

The monkey and I were left all on our own to clean up the mess. So, after some crying, sobbing, panicking and muttering unmentionables under my breath, I did the only thing I know how to do - I called in the reserves and they came running - with wet vac's and pool pumps. Five hours later after a lot of vacuuming, pumping, sweating, heavy lifting, and slushing around in nasty, stinky, dirty water, we've got most of it out of the basement. It's still seeping in, but the worst of it has been dealt with.

Thank you reserves - you know who you are and I am forever in your debt.

The hose? It is now in the garbage never to be seen again.

The culprit? Perhaps some concrete goulashes are in order.

True love...even if it will be short lived

The set-up. I used to get my hair cut by the same lady that did my dad's hair. She wasn't very nice or friendly, but it was the only person that I figured could cut my hair. Yes, in Utah I realize that's a funny thing because if there's one thing we've got enough of in this state it's hair stylists. This one time I dyed my hair red and when she tried to make me blond again, huge chunks of my hair fell out.

I digress.

Once I got married I quit her - well, and she retired. Anyway, I started going to Romela, the wonderful, political, fun, Iranian-American who has been cutting the hairs of many a family member for 20 + years. I look so forward to going and getting my hair cut every 8 weeks that I can hardly stand it sometimes. She calls me Honey, doesn't mind it when I bring Elliott and I just love it.

Years ago, Romela introduced me to my true love - a special hairspray that loves me back. It blends with my hair perfectly, isn't sticky or wet, or clumpy and one bottle lasts me literally months. I fell in love with first spray at the salon and went right out to the fancy "salon product" store to get me some. I've used it for years.

Alas, after the Monkey was born in January 2007, I went to purchase a new bottle of my fancy (and expensive but oh so worth it) hairspray at the "salon store" and *gasp* was told by the clerk that it was discontinued! I nearly broke down and cried. Never in my search for hair products had I found something so special, so wonderful, so...me!

I've spent the last 17 months desperately searching for a product that could equal my beloved and discontinued spray and have found nothing. Just last week, while suffering from crunchy, mildly frizzy, humid, wet-look California hair, on the shuttle bus I was complaining (yes, something I do regularly) to Ross about my hair and how I wish I had my magic spray.

Lucky for me, Elliott and I needed to go to "the red bulls eye" last week for some supplies. And lucky for me we just happened to be wandering through the "products" section and lucky for me, I spotted it hidden on a shelf.



I was so excited that I nearly screamed. There were four of my beautiful bottles of hairspray on the shelf - deeply discounted. Not wanting to appear foolish or desperate, I only purchased two of the bottles. After a lot of thought through the evening, I went back the next day and bought the other two...someone must have been looking out for me...hair gods, I thank you!!!!

I've had good hair days ever since.

17 months

Even though I think that my monkey is entering the "terrible two's" a bit early, and he's been whining for days non-stop, we've had a good month and I still like him.

New Foods:
steak
hamburger
hot dogs
cold pasta salads
he at a radish and will pop cherry tomatoes like grapes
Italian ice with soft serve
popcorn

New Words:
airplane
garbage
dirty
baby
helicopter (in his version of sign language)
belly
boobie
pee-pee (he tells me after he's gone - too bad he doesn't tell me before he goes)
truck
grandma
grandpa

New Activities:
Peeing on the edge of the bathtub before getting in almost every single morning
dancing to "once there was a snowman"
baseball games - and he enjoyed it
throwing temper tantrums
sleeping on the floor
trying to do a headstand
laying on the landing
singing to himself
watering the flowers
watching and talking to his reflection in the stove door
sitting in a booster seat
making messes
throwing everything that can be thrown and some things that shouldn't
waving bye-bye to everyone
eating a whole banana and holding it himself without any help
brushing teeth several times a day with a big toothbrush, not a baby one
sneaking up behind me, giving me hugs and then coming around to my face and giving me sweet kisses

And...you're a really groovy dancer.