FOUND SOME!

While browsing the internet (and yes narcissistic self searching for my blog) I ran across THIS:

Yes, what you see there is ACTUAL Velcro Wallpaper! I was giddy with excitement when I saw this! I found this at this blog here: MUST CREATE! DIY Velcro Wall In this she uses strips of velcro to create a geometric pattern on her wall, to which she attaches lightweight boxes, applying the attaching strips on the back to hold them to the velcro wall.

I'm drunk with possibilities.

THEN I found this:

I've died and gone to heaven. They even make KID SIZED body suits!

Though the company from the site in the above pic is in Arizona, I'm pretty sure I can find it in L.A. But now this means it wasn't an original idea of mine. I'm not too sad though. At least now I don't have to wonder what it would be like.

I'm renting THIS for the 5 year old birthday party. SO.TOTALLY.COOL.

I'm going to sit back, and finish my coffee with a satisfied smile.

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Sniffles, sneezes & snuggles.

The little one, who is now nearly 18 months old, has been battling his 5th cold/flu/cough/bronchial whatever since birth, This time the wheezing was worse than it had been in the past. I gave him his albuterol, but could not find the aero-chamber with child mask to administer it. PLUS to get one you have to have a prescription. So, while I'm working on fixing that, in a pinch I was at a loss as to what I could use.

I fashioned a ziplock baggie into a mock aero-chamber and here's how we did it:
Cut a slit leaving 2/3 of the bottom open.
Place inhaler in ziplock bag.
Daddy holds squirm monster steady.
Grandma  holds bottom opening of mock aero-chamber over baby nose and mouth.
(Be sure there is a small opening in the zip top part of bag for this to work. YOU MUST HAVE AIRFLOW THROUGH THE CHAMBER!)
Mommy, holding inhaler in bag, and holding bag upright, depressed the inhaler fully 3 times as he fussed and screamed in protest sucking in the medication into his lungs.

Done. And it worked. Almost immediately we could hear him breathing better.

This is NOT something I'd recommend, as it took three of us to accomplish the task.

Let me tell you that giving him the medication this way was better than him going into a full blown asthma attack. And I'm glad my husband is an RN that he was able to supervise the whole thing. I've already got a call into the doctor for a new prescription.

Let me just say, that it's always fun giving him his medicine.

OK, I lied.

It's like wrestling a slippery octopus with ten ton legs in a vat of jello. He's squirmy, kicks hard as he can and spews pink/purple/red medicine back in my face. AWESOME.

So this time, I tried another tactic.

M&M's.

Me:  You want some candy?
Baby E:  -nods head-
Me:  Then you need to take your medicine -holding up syringe with Tylenol & cough syrup-
Baby E:  [WHINE!!!!] -shakes head- Nuh uh!
Me:  Then you don't get your candy...
Baby E:  [whine...] -shakes head- NUH uh!!
Me:  You want CANDY?? [shaking the LARGE bag in front of him]
Baby E:  -nods-
Me:  then... take your medicine. -holding syringe up to him again-
Baby E: -shakes head, crying loudly- NUH Uuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh!!!!
Me: *sigh* -holds bag away from baby- then no candy...
Baby E: -nods head, shakes head, cries-

This went on like this a few more times till FINALLY he relented, let me lay him back as he gurgled down the unsavory pink slop with just a bit of protest, nearly gagging (as he always does when he's fighting me screaming to NOT take it) but he did it.

And he was rewarded with giant sized bag of the little colorful candy delights.
-WHEE!-
Which he gleefully dug into. Of course I went and got a snack bowl from the kitchen and put some in there for him, rather than let him ravenously consume the entire giant bag, but I wasn't going to make him wait for a bowl just then.

The good news is, this morning he woke up feeling much better, all smiles, grins and giggles as we snuggled down to our morning boob feeding. When he was done, he rolled over me and slid down the side of the bed to the floor and toddled off to say good morning to his older brother and gank his brother's chocolate milk.

Awww isn't he an angel of sweet buttery goodness? When he's mad, however, watch out!

(He must take after his mother...)




(No, really...)




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You never realize the value of something so small until it's gone.

Sounds all esoteric and stuff...right?

We can't find the baby's binky. LORD HELP ME he's a screaming pile of turd at the moment because we cannot locate it. His brother's spare will not do. He's had enough of the breast for the night. Currently being consoled by grandma, while I dig through the trenches of the war zone, aka the playroom. I can hear the little voice from the older one's bed "He's too loud! I'm trying to sleep!" Too bad he's only 4 and I cannot shoo him out to help me dig. 

Trains, track, trucks, cars, blankets (from today's fort) and no relief in sight. 

Having successfully escaped from Grandma's clutches, one hopes he can be lulled  by a little TV as a distraction... perhaps he'll drift back off to sleep and I can resume the search.

Time to pull out the big guns and get the large broom. Here's hoping!


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I need a little coffee with my creamer...

Sunday mornings around here are typical, kids jumping around in my bed till I will myself out of it. Cartoons in their room with the sounds of their gleeful laughter and play, the smell of freshly brewed coffee, the anticipation of something delectable with the creak of the  plastic pastry box. This time of year is especially my favorite. I love Autumn. The air smells different, feels different, it's breezier, crisper, the sun shine has moved a bit to the far side of the house with the tilt of the earth. The stores are already stocked up for the holidays, and the commercials are bombarding their viewers with the latest, greatest sale. I personally enjoy the promise of roasted this and baked that and the delicious smells of love that emanate from my kitchen. I love cooking with the windows open while the breeze blows through and steals the tantalizing scent of whatever exotic or traditional dish I'm cooking.  The timing suits me fine too, things have settled down to a manageable pace finally. The buzz and hubbub of summer is done and it was a great summer too.

I've got a lot to plan for the year ahead as I'm prepping to get my 4 year old enrolled for kindergarten and get the baby in a day care for a couple days a week. I still have Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah and Yule to prepare and budget for. I've got my husband's special Over-the-Hill/All Hallows Eve party to plan and just daily stuff to schedule too. In this house we celebrate as much as we can. Life should always be a celebration, especially since we had gotten so used to it being full of stress and angst. I already have gift lists to write and edit.The 4-year old has been asking for "A Thomas Toy Box, with track and a round house" THAT set runs nearly $300.00, bless his little soul, he's still young enough to love what I get him regardless, but I am thankful I've taught him early about kids who have nothing. So donating his old toys to make room for new ones is perfectly acceptable to him, thank GOODNESS!

I'm all about tradition and staring new ones. Creating memories. If I don't get holiday cards out, I don't panic. I may sound organised, but as long as we're doing ok week to week, I don't stress about much else. LOL! Tomorrow starts a new week, yesterday the new month. Time to get ourselves and this home in tip top shape!

I love this time of year. Now for some coffee, well... like the post title suggests, a little coffee. :)

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Sometimes it takes a bit of courage...

While I initially intended this to be a more humorous blog, I feel the need to post something rather... deep and important to me in my parenting journey. I feel almost guilty for jumping right into something "heavy" but there you are.

When I had my first son Ben, I really didn't have a lot of time to think through the whole parenting process. He was born with Down Syndrome, which we were NOT AT ALL prepared for, but I dove right in to managing his care and daily routine with not much fuss. In fact it seemed to come quite easy to me, all the scheduling, back and forth to appointments, setting up a regular routine for each day and each week plus the daily domestics that came with marriage and motherhood. Surprising to me now, is how quickly I adapted back then. I'm not sure what it was, whether it was my need for recognition from my (now ex) husband as being a valuable contributing partner, or seeking approval from my mom for being "the best" mother and wife, or if it served a deeper need to be competent in SOMETHING because I chose not to finish college with the  demands of a special needs child. This would be a first for me looking for a reason why I was such the "super mom" but I don't dwell why, I just did what needed to be done and loved and cared for my son in the process.

Losing Ben less than two years later to Leukemia was a beyond a difficult blow, but even then I managed to keep a positive outward appearance on all accounts, whether dealing with friends or strangers. Family was a whole other issue. I had my relationship challenges with my husband, the strains of childhood hurts with my mom, and a sister that didn't ever quite "get" me but always seemed to try and change me or fix me. There is a lot more communication between my mom and I and my sister and I, still a lot to work through, but it's not as strained most days they way it used to be. Ben's life and passing did a lot for re-evaluating my relationships with my family, and paved the way for healing between us. I struggle daily with chronic pain, chronic fatigue and depression due to my Fibromyalgia. I was diagnosed less than a month after he passed. Recently, I'm also suffering from anxiety from post traumatic stress.

There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of him in some way or another, be it a passing thought or an all consuming one. The wounds of loss do eventually heal but the scars never go away, and there are days that the memory of him is sometimes more painful than the event of losing him was. I'm now the mother of two more glorious boys, ages 4 and 17 months. If Ben were still alive he'd be 14 now. My two younger boys have brought so much joy back to my life, but with the joys come the stresses and physical strains. It's been a rough few years. The Fibro makes motherhood more of a challenge than it is, and I still stuff away a lot of heartache with cynicism and food. Lets face it, food is an easy bearer of comfort, and when I had nothing else, food never let me down. Of course, I'm now peaking over 240lbs. Yes... I'm appalled at that number. UTTERLY appalled. Exercise is my friend and foe, as it helps where it should, but I'm also out for 2-4 days unable to do much but care for the boys. My laundry suffers, my housework suffers, but I push through for those kids because that's what I need to do, it's what a mom should do and I do my best.

I wake up every morning, thankful for the sleeping angels, who will wake to be rambunctious imps and who will run me ragged by the time I have to go to bed. I have little or no complaints about being a mom, because it was what I always wanted. I just hope that I can do right by my boys, and raise two loving, caring, compassionate, strong minded, independent thinking and responsible men who will blaze a trail and make their positive mark on this world. That's what I pray for and dream for and hope for...and everything that goes with making that happen.

Sometimes it takes a bit of courage.

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Hand puppets calm the savage beast...

OK, off the wall thought for the day: who knew sticking a pair of eyeballs around your middle finger and flapping your fingers together to form a mouth talking would keep children so enthralled? TV has come a long way since I was a kid. All I can say is, I am thankful there are things on TV that are educational and entertaining that I can occupy my boys for an hour so I can take care of stuff around the house, dinner, work... etc.

But that is beside the point. This is my crazy life, if I can't share the latest crazy with you then... what's the point of blogging? And this blog is about to take a more somber turn...

I've had a lot on my mind lately, what with the kids and family but also with the drama that I'm not rid of yet. I'm referring to a comment someone made on my other blog, that I moderated,  that left me wanting to share a bit more of my life with my readers. People want to share, people want to be heard. Not everyone has to agree or has to like what I share. Not everyone is going to be nice. But when you use my blog to stalk, intimidate, threaten, harass or insult me, I draw a line. THIS is why I moderated my comments. I have that right. For the most part, if you are being critical or judgmental, whatevs, I'd let that comment through. Honestly, what is the point of offering up my view if I'm not willing to have a healthy debate or discussion. Again, the point of it is to be thoughtful, not just an asshole. I can be an asshole too, but I choose to try and put forward thought inspiring material, or at least something to garner a giggle or two.

So, that being said, I have this other blog: The Source Gathering, which can be found here: http://sourcegathering.blogspot.com It is more about my spiritual journey and transcendental viewpoint as opposed to my personal family blog here. Now because my blogs are linked to my twitter account, I keep my twitter account as public rather than protected, and due to this I was subject to a personal flame on my last post there. Good thing I have my comments moderated. Anyhow, the diatribe wasn't even worth posting not just because the grammar and spelling were SO bad, but the author felt necessary to make personal digs against me, my family and my kids. Rather than address them and ranting on like a Tasmanian Devil on 20 pots of coffee, I think I would rather just address certain things here, to the rest of you, my readers (which as of this typing is not much, lol, but I hope my subscribers increase!)

I'm Iranian-American, born in Tehran in 1973, when the country was on the brink of revolution, and we managed to escape with our lives in late 1978. I then lived on the east coast in Long Island for a little while, until my dad felt his "gypsy blood" (or was it wanderlust? LOL) calling, and he took a job overseas and moved the family to Dublin Ireland in August of 1980. We stayed in Dublin for nearly 5 years, until we moved to Southern California in late 1985. I have lived here since then, moved from the foothills of Los Angeles, to the San Fernando Valley, to the Inland Empire, and then back to where I started (sort of).

As I teen, I was never truly happy here, because I felt such a strong connection to Ireland and the friends I left there, but I made the most of it here. Growing up had it's challenges and I spent many years searching for myself. I've made a home for my family, I finally settled down, second marriage, a total of three kids, the first of which watches from above now (miss you Ben! <3).
I'm still figuring life out, but not because I'm some slum crass idiot that can't get her head out of her ass, but because I believe life is a journey not a destination. I've had a few bi-encounters in my 20's. I had an open relationship in my 30's but it was a rough break up, and I hurt for a while. I'm monogamous now. I'm married, second time around, and most of those nine years have been happy. I've found peace with him and I'm constantly reminded that I have a really good man. Do I believe in Soul Mates? Not really, I think everyone you meet has something to teach you about life and about yourself. So in essence you meet many soul mates in your life time.

I've had many life experiences, some good, some not so good. They have formed me to the person I am, and I am pretty happy with how I turned out. I've met many people in this journey, some memorable, some I wish I could forget. I've made some poor choices in friends (too many times!!) that left me with a few bitter enemies. There are friends that I wish I never hurt from my thoughtlessness and stupid actions, then there are those that I wish I would have dumped at the nearest turn when I felt the first inkling of their deceit. I want to think the best of people and that has gotten me into more difficult situations than I care to count or remember.

I've been called self absorbed, a bad friend, a life wrecking whore, a bitch, a stalker, a thief, a C U Next Tuesday (ahem!) a dispotionate pig (whatever the frack THAT means...) and a few other choice phrases. I'll admit, in retaliation to being personally attacked, I've done some pretty petty things in my day, but I have NEVER, EVER gone out of my way to screw with people's families, friends, jobs, or lives. What I said and did was stuff that stayed within the realm of the internet, (emails, blogs and such) basically childish verbal lambasting, but it was all over and done with once it started. I have apologized when I have done something wrong and didn't mean to intentionally hurt someone.

I have been accused of lying however I do not like lies, nor do I like to tell them. I will not and cannot abide by people who lie, especially constantly. I do not lie as a rule. I don't make things up, I don't embellish, I don't fluff anything. I may OMIT something, but I would not cover it with something else. As me a question and you will get an honest answer, if I feel you deserve an answer. Bully me and I'll tell you to stick it where the sun don't shine. I've made many mistakes. I am human. Shit happens.

One defining moment in my life happened about 5 years ago. I did the one thing I swore I'd never do. I slept with my best friends husband. It was such a STUPID, stupid decision on my part. I always thought women like that were trash and thought I held myself to a higher standard. But as pedestals are often lofty, and my criticisms of others were harsh, I fell off mine (rightly so) but I hurt a dear friend, whom I loved beyond words or reasoning. My only excuse was lame at best. No amount of regret erases what I did and what's done has been done. I had tried to tell her how sorry I was, but she was so mad at me, I don't think she really heard, or wanted anything from me at the time especially not an apology. I didn't blame her, even now. What I ruined, I will never get back.

**For what it's worth, I'm sorry for not telling you and for not talking to you about what was going on first. I thought we were so close, immune to boundaries of flesh and jealousy. I was wrong, I was stupid. I take full responsibility for my actions and my inaction, for this I am deeply and wholeheartedly sorry. I mourn the friendship we had, lost to betrayal and hurt and stupidity. But I have to say this, after you left, I never stole anything from you, not in real life nor cyberspace. I have not "stalked" you, if I happened to come upon you online, I went another way. I cared enough about you to let you go, and let you be. I hope you were able to heal what I hurt. I hope you are healthy, happy, content... I am sorry that I ever made your life unbearable or painful. :( I regret the pain I caused, but I don't regret the friend.**

It's too easy to look at my mistakes and feel like I am a bad person, but I'm not. I'm just a person, stumbling through life, sometimes not knowing what the best course of action is, and often making the wrong choice. But that's the beauty of life, we're resilient beings, we will bounce back. Things change, but we can learn and grow. I'm more humble than I used to be. I'm not invincible. I roll with the punches better than I used to. I hope I am able to teach my children to stand up and do what is right, to learn from the mistakes I made, to make their own and learn from them and to be better humans and offer something fantastic to this universe.

I'm just me. And despite the stupid things I've done, I'm changed and I've started to like who I've become. To others, I may be defined by my past, but to me, I've yet to be defined by my future. This post could easily fit on my other blog, but it's here because it's specifically about me and my crazy life.

If I try to hide my truth, then people will expose it thinking they have hurt me. So I savor my lessons, and put one foot in front of the other. I look to my children who bring me so much joy and I think, it's ok to be imperfect, because nobody is.

I live my life whole-heartedly. I make no bones about the mistakes I've made, and I don't go around harassing people about theirs. It's taken courage to post this, but I'm hoping that rather than see this as what that commenter called "...an attemp to find a reason outside yourself and your failures in life. And another lame attempt to make it "spiritual"..." I hope you see it as just another soul, trying to make a positive dent in this world, and sharing my life so it might benefit someone someday.

And with the happy screeches of the kids watching a movie ("Bolt" I think it is..) I'm going to go join them, hug them, love them, teach them right from wrong, independant thought and how to be inspired, maybe play with goofy hand puppets and toys and put a little joy back into my day. I hope my words reach the ones they are intended for.

Now back to your regular insanity! :)

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"I live in Africa but please rent my house!"

This last month has been a stress filled house hunt poop shoot. Seriously.

If it's not for Craigslist massive amounts of scam postings, it's for landlords that just don't reply back quickly and then they've rented the place without even contacting you. I know it's a tough market, what with all the people losing their homes. Of course, our credit SUCKS. No evictions, but still sucks all the same. And frankly it's our own doing.

A lot of the late payments could have been taken care of and the things that have gone to collections have sat on the back burner since my husband was out of work over a year. It's been a tough haul for us.

BUT, we've got a couple that look promising, that seem will be willing to work with us, deposit being a lot more and a possible co-signer needed, but we've got that covered for the most part.

The challenge is, not going crazy in the process of all this, and managing my family in the mean time. It's hard to keep that sense of calm an order when you have less than 300 sq ft. in which to fit a family of 4 with 2 dogs and 5 cats. (don't get on me about the cats, that is a whole other issue!)

But in all this mayhem, the baby has started to crawl, well drag himself to where he wants to go, the 3 year old has increased his vocabulary along with his art of whining when he doesn't get his way. [sigh]

They are both FINALLY over that icky cough, as am I and hopefully through all this moving mayhem we'll stay that way. I'd like to be in our own place before the Xmas Holidays, I just really like a tree again in my home. We've not had a full size tree in our house since 2004. Sucks... I'd like a full tree this year. Even if I decorate it with 99 cent store holiday baubles.

But really, if I must go see your house (wait, was that a 3 bedroom? No? and it's an apartment?) while you are in Africa... thanks for the web link to gowestafrica dot org but I won't be clicking on it. (and don't any of you EITHER.. probably a phishing site or some other crap) Do I disturb the tenants and tell them that you are trying to get money from people to rent it? or Do I just call the listing agent and let them know you're scamming on the property?

Anyway, beware the Craigslist scams, google phone numbers, cross check EVERYTHING including email addresses and do your homework. It's a pain but it's how it is.

Side Note: Do these scams actually make any money? Or are these people just stupid and bored??

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When it rains, it pours!

So the baby and the 3 year old have been battling coughs. I took them to the doc a week ago monday. Visit was uneventful, except that the 3 year old had ear infections in both ears. No other symptoms... no ear pain. The doctor turned to me and asked, a little surprised if he had given any indication of pain or discomfort. My reply was when the lightbulb went on "OH THAT'S why he's been such a cranky whiny pain in my butt." That went over like a lead balloon, but my mom snickered. Priceless.

So in the car on the way home from the appointment, I call back to the backseat and asked "Hon does your head hurt?" the answer very sweetly "no" Me: "Does your ears hurt?" him: "no" Me: Does your neck or throat hurt?" him: "no mama"

The next thing he said nearly made my mom pull over to laugh her ass off. This little voice in the back seat pipes up with: "My hea awe bedder, my eaws awe bedder, my net awe bedder! Mama I awe BEDDER!" The smile on his face was infectious. And we laughed heartily, but always turning to him and saying "That's really good sweetie"

All I can say, is here we are, over a week later, kids are getting better, but due to the rain, and lack of sleep, I'm sitting here with a sinus infection. Bleh. He still hasn't said his ears hurt.

I'm not awe bedder yet. But if he hugs me and tells me I'm boodepull again, I'll melt, and it will be all worth it.

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