As I'm making food for tonight's get together, I'm reflecting back to the last day of 2007, just a year ago. It totally seems like a lifetime ago! God, was I a mess...

I was in the throes of germophobic anxiety and was sitting at home with Thing One and Thing Two, trying desperately to avoid the rampant Norovirus. I stayed in my pajamas all day and Lysolled things that may have come into contact with the infected outside world (even though I hadn't left the house for nearly a week)! The thought of being totally alone at midnight was too much to bear, so I kept my then four-year-old up until the ball dropped so I'd have someone to kiss. Unfortunately, by midnight, she had already been dog tired for over two hours, was crabby beyond belief and refused to plant one on me! She was asleep by 12:02. What a way to ring in 2008!

I've never been much of a New Year's Eve party person, so this New Year's Eve I'm spending it just how I want to - laying low with close friends, playing some board and card games and being happy and comfortable. I'm glad to say that my germophobic tendencies have all but disappeared, and although I won't be licking any raw chicken in the near future, I intend to enter 2009 a more well-balanced, clear-headed, and content girl!

Cheers!

I've been MIA a little bit. There's been a lot going on in my life (as there is in everyone else's) and I've not taken the time to get on here. It's been a whirlwind in many different ways and here are some things I've taken out of the past few weeks - wisdom, if you will!

1. Worrying is a waste of time. Really. I've spent enough money in therapy trying to believe it, but it's finally beginning to sink in. There's just so much I can't control in my life that I'd rather spend my energy on the things I can make better.

2. People are inherently good. Go ahead, call me Polyanna. I believe that, even in light of what the past 6 months have brought me.

3. Word Twist on Facebook can get you out of just about any emotional funk under the sun.

4. There are times where you can't do anything but throw in the towel. Throw gently.

5. Fun is underrated.

6. Being nice gets you further. And you can feel good at the end of the day that you played fair.

7. Friends, old and new are not just nice to have around, they're as necessary as water and sunlight! Thank you to my understanding, supportive, unconditional friends!

8. Technology is cool. Bluetooths rock, even if I look like a yuppie! And... Santa should be bringing me an iTouch for Christmas since I've been really good! You reading, Santa??

9. I don't need any more striped shirts.

10. Raw eggs will prpbably not kill me. Especially when mixed with Gin in a Velvet Tango Room cocktail. The jury is still out on cookie dough.

I have to preface this entry by explaining that my brother is special-needs, or as we commonly (and maybe politically-incorrectly) refer to as "handicapped". It's been a part of our life and we're not overly sensitive to it. We love him to bits and accept him and sometimes use humour to cope the ignorance of others. For example, my parents were tempted to buy a shirt for him that they found in a store that read, "I'm the bad thing that happens to good people". I can just imagine the looks we'd get if we took him out in public in that shirt! Anyways, my brother has been a great tool in teaching my kids to be accepting and understanding of people's differences. I never really thought about how it was perceived by Thing Two until she came out with a slew of funny questions:

Last Summer:
Thing One: Are dolphins or Grady Sizemore handicapped?
Me: No. What do you mean?
Thing One: Well, Uncle Matthew is handicapped and he doesn't talk. Dolphins don't talk and neither does Grady Sizemore, so I thought they might be handicapped too.

Last Week as we're getting ready to go to my brother's birthday dinner:
Thing One: Is this going to be a handicapped birthday party or do we get to eat cake?
Me: No, we get cake. What's a handicapped birthday party like?
Thing One: One where you just eat applesauce and peanut butter*

*My brother is allergic to just about everything under the sun and his favorite snack is peanut butter and applesauce!

This was meant to just be a "from the mouth of Thing Two" post, but as I'm writing, I feel compelled to mention how much I love and appreciate my little family. My mom and dad are the best role models when it comes to giving selflessly. A lot of kids like my brother live in group homes because they require so much care, but my parents both work and share the responsibility of caring for Matthew like it's second nature. You never hear them complain or act like martyrs. He's their son and they do for him just like I do for mine. The difference with mine is that one day, they will grow up and leave home to start their own lives. My brother will always be like a child for my parents to care for, but they do it happily. I remember my mom once saying something along the lines of her being so thankful that Matt was born into our family, so he could get all the love he deserves. And I think that love has shaped him into the sweet and lovable little guy that he is. I wouldn't trade him for a million un-handicapped brothers!

I keep everything. I don't like to label myself a "packrat" because of the implied disorganization. I don't have everything cataloged, but I'm organized. I can tell you exactly where the kids' dried up bellybuttons are or where the empty first can of beer I ever drank is. Yes, I kept the kids bellybuttons, and the bandaids from their first shots, and my positive pregancy tests (nasty!) I also keep the usual things, like hospital bracelets, cards, concert ticket stubs, and crafts that Thing One makes. In my defense, I've actually met one other mom who kept her kids bellybuttons, so I don't feel too creepy.

I did NOT get this sappiness from my mom. She throws out everything. If I have any mementos left over from my childhood, it must be because my dad pulled them out of the trash! I had a beloved bear that I slept with every night when I was little. He was aptly, if not creatively named Mr. Bear. He was crocheted and full of stuffing. As I snuggled with him every night, the crochet sticthes stretched and the stuffing became dense and settled at the bear's feet, leaving the rest of the him all limpy. If I didn't mention it already, I loved, loved, loved that bear. One night when I was going to bed, I asked my mom to bring me Mr. Bear. Unfortunately, Mr. Bear had apparently bought the farm and was no longer with us. By this I mean she thre him away. To this day, when I razz my mom about it, she says, "well, it was falling apart." Well, yeah - because I loved the hell out of it!

I really owe my mom a nice post, because anyone who reads this is going to totally think she's horrible! She can't be judged on this one incident. Seriously, my mom is the best. She's sweet, loving and nurturing and one of my best friends - she just doesn't share my nostalgic tendancies!

I'm not sure if the stuff that Thing One says is only funny to me, because I'm the mom, but I've been saying for years that I need to journal them so I don't forget any of it! So if no one else gets a kick out of it, at least I have record of it. She makes me laugh so often with what comes out of her mouth. I'm going to start with a couple of recent ones and add things as they pop into my memory.

Let me preface this by saying that Thing One is a goody-goody and never swears. She's sqeaky clean, that kid.

Thing One to the new hamster: Good morning, little guy. Aren't you a cute little bastard?!
Me: What did you just say?
Thing One: I said "bastard". Am I not supposed to say "bastard"?
Me: No, you cannot say that. It's a bad word. Where did you hear that?
Thing One: I don't remember. I just know it.

You have to know that she had the tiniest, softest voice and she was talking all high-pitched! Hysterical!


Yesterday was a day I really could have used a "ME DAY". Obviously, that doesn't happen much these days and I'm generally not big on needing a whole lot of alone time, but for some reason I was feeling a little bit fried. So, I take a break from cleaning to go to pee. Is it too much to ask for 60 seconds without interuption? Apparently so.

Thing One yelling from the living room: Mom, what does V-E-R-Y spell?
Me: Very
Thing One: What does S-M-A-L-L spell?
Me: Small
Thing One: What does P-I-N-E spell?
Me: Give me minute. I'm on the potty.
Thing One: But what does P-I-N-E spell?
Me: I AM ON THE POTTY.
Thing One: Can't you just tell me what P-I-N-E spells?
Me: NO. YOU NEED TO BE PATIENT. I AM TRYING TO GO POTTY!
Thing One: Yeah, well I'm trying to learn to READ!

Good Lord. Calgon take me away!

Well, I had a date last night! Okay, so it was with my dad. Whatever. Still a date. He even paid for my pizza and concert ticket! Going to shows together has become our "thing" and I love it.

We went to see RAIN, the Beatles Experience for the second time this year. AWESOME is an understatement! I wish Blogger had a thesaurus feature. The first time we saw them back in early spring, I was completely blown away. I actually had to remind myself that I wasn't really watching the Beatles. I was careful not to be one of those screaming fans that tear at their hair and pass out. They are just amazing. From the sets, to the costumes, to the mannerisms, and of course the voices, they really have it down. The energy at those shows is contagious and there's just something so magical about the music of the Beatles. Seriously, if you're even a mild Beatles fan, you have to see this show. Love it, love it, love it!! Can't say enough about it.

Among the many things I'm paranoid about and obsess over, my car is at the top of the list. I always think it's on its last leg, even though it hasn't even reached 70,000 miles yet. It's a VW Jetta, so theoretically it should get at least another 70,000 + miles. Thankfully, I have the most honest car mechanic imaginable. I need more than one hand to count the times he's sent me away without a bill, telling me that there's just nothing wrong with it. But don't you hear that squeaking, rumbly rattle? No, that's just the sound that cars make when they're running. Ah, I see.

Now, my mechanic - as honest and reasonable as he is - is also slightly unorthodox. I really don't care where he gets the parts for my car so long as everything works properly. That being said, since he first started doing my brakes he hasn't been able to figure out the "code" needed to reset my brake light. So.... my brake light on my dash is ALWAYS on. I hate it and it totally stresses me out. How I am supposed to know when my brakes are really bad? Just recently, my temperature gauge light has also been going on periodically. My washer fluid is low, so that light is on. My trunk which needs to really be slammed to close, has been slightly open for days so that light was lit up as well. When my gas light went on today, I thought my head was going to explode!

Now that I've all but beat the crazy germ phobia, I feel another type of irrational fear sneaking up on me! Hmmm, what will cost me less? A monthly car payment for a new ride, or weekly therapy sessions? A new car would certainly be more fun...