Because I Said So!

If Anyone Asks, Tell Them I'm Hungover

2011-11-10T12:36:00.001+10:00

I'm home sick. I ~~hacked~~ coughed all night and ~~annoyed~~ kept honey up, but he didn't mind because he loves ~~watching~~ me ~~sleep~~. Ha ha. That's what he says, but I know it sucked because in the middle of the night he was on the recliner and when I opened my eyes to look for him, he quickly tucked himself back in bed beside me. He's my hero. Anyone who still wants to hug me despite my incessant coughing and whining is definitely worthy of honor. He's so kind I even let him put Vick's on my chest twice and reassured him that "yes, I feel much better now." Pfsshh, I don't even know why those doctors bother going to medical school! Ancient Chamorros used Vick's to cure everything from canoe sickness to hepatitis and they get no credit.

I've been sick for eight days now. I've also been going through some female stuff and getting dizzy a lot lately. We thought I might be pregnant, although that is impossible. Not impossible like resurrection, but impossible like trying to bake cupcakes and remembering you're out of eggs. After we ruled that out (whew), we thought it might be the flu. We're half right, the doctor gave me some antibiotics, antihistamines and steroids and told me to stay home for two days. I have bronchitis, which is a relief. Eight days in mom years is like being diagnosed with a terminal disease. Lord knows, I'm more like my mom than I want to admit. My sister and I laugh about it a lot. That awkward, clearing your throat, fake laugh when one of us stops real quick because it's scary how true it is.

I have an appointment with my gynecologist next week to unravel the mystery of my ladypipes. The girls have been real nice to me since I got sick. It's so funny how kids get all cuddly when you're sick. Like they finally realize you might not be around forever. I've been feeling like that about my dad lately, but that's better saved for when I can actually write about it without feeling like I've been hit by a truck.

That was Monday, my trip to the clinic, and I didn't take my doctor's advice. Big surprise. So naturally, here I am on Thursday after a horrific night of coughing fits and vomiting, blogging about it as if you asked. In case you wondered though, it sucks to be sick. Sick leave is wasted on the ill.

Haiku. God Bless You.

2011-11-09T21:29:00.000+10:00

Sommer hugs for free
wraps joy from small arms tightly

around your waist, heart

Sometimes good things fall apart so that better things can come together

2011-11-09T19:21:00.000+10:00

Like me and plans, I'm big on them. Routines and plans. I like everything neat and tidy and according to schedule, but lucky for me my best ideas don't always go the way I hope.Take for instance the time we decided to ride donkeys up to the Taal Volcano in the Philippines. I did all the research, found the paid tours and we plugged "volcano" into the week's itinerary. Nice and easy like that, not ever thinking torrential rains would flood Manila and we'd have to wait days to even drive to Tagaytay. When we did finally get there, it was rainy and gloomy, like my outlook. The fog was so thick it was hard to make an outline of the volcano through them. Darn.

Left with no other options, we decided to drive around and tour the town. I had read somewhere that nuns make ube in Tagaytay. It was supposed to be special because they used the proceeds to put poverty stricken women through college. So, off we went on a search for the Good Shepherd Factory through steep, winding roads, stopping people on the street to ask for directions. After finally reaching the factory we happened upon a sign on the side of the road for something called a zipline so we stopped to ask questions. No one wanted to do it, I mean strap yourself to a harness and get hurled through the air? No one except me and Hope! And then Donny! Hearts pounding, we made our way into the gates.
What a surprise. There was a park nestled in in the middle of two mountains and you could "fly" between them, through the forest! Hope, Donny and I got to zipline through the mist, way above the canopy of the Philippine jungle. Hope and I held hands and I knew we'd never forget that day. Halfway in the air we let go, screamed and listened as our voices echoed through the trees, right into our memories. But that wasn't the end of it. While waiting for our complimentary Zipline photos, one of the government tour guides asked if we were interested in a boat ride on the lake. We shook our heads. Then we waited some more. Then we started asking questions again. Safe boat, restaurants nearby, come down and see for yourself. Hmmmm, since all of our other plans fell through, we decided that we might as well make the best of it. The weather was clearing up and maybe a boat ride would be fun.

So we drove down more winding mountainside to Taal Lake. The lake was massive and still, and we were just the opposite, a small boat full of laughing tourists, giddy from soaring. Much to our amazement, the other end of the boat ride brought us to Taal Volcano and horses! The very thing we wanted to do in the first place was waiting to happen if we would...if I would just be patient and let life's course just do it's thing.
The moral of my story is that I may not always be able to control what happens, or even foresee it and that's totally ok. Everything in my life that has happened these past few years has been huge, but it's taught me that I'm not always the best judge of what's good for Boni. I can only change me, my outlook on things and my response to things. I cannot change what happens to me. Talk about a
gratitude entry for the evening. Thank you Lord, for everything you've given me, my husband, my children, my career, my friends, my family, my life. None of these things were in my planner, but all of them are better than what I could have put together on my own.

Happy Halloween!

2011-10-31T08:22:00.000+10:00

Zombie

Jellyfish and Swagger Nerd

Nerd

In the mood to play with food

2011-10-30T22:18:00.000+10:00

I had plans, big plans. I had a whole lineup of Halloween treats, plus kids costumes, plus my costume. Grrr...I always do that, make big plans and end up completely exhausted. Lucky for me, I have a honey who loves my many zany ideas. He remembers every "kick" I've had lately. Like the cupcake kick, the pie kick, the limoncello kick, and the time I was totally obsessed with green tea. So while we cut and taped, mixed and baked he prepared a nice healthy turkey lunch and tuna dinner to keep us energized.

Sommer wanted to be a rockstar. Then she wanted to be Lego Princess Leah. Then she wanted to be a nerd. Finally, yesterday (yes, two days before Halloween) she decided on being a jellyfish. Dozens of curling ribbon and bubble wrap strips later, she's got her wish.

I usually make Hairy Armpits (graham crackers, peanut butter, Nutella and chocolate sprinkles) for Halloween, but this year we had to choose something healthy to bring to school, so the girls and I made some Witch Fingers with a shortbread recipe (no leavening agents) that is absolutely fantastic. I smell like cherries and almonds. The house smells pretty good too.

I've made Graveyard Pudding every year since I've become a mom. Peyton wouldn't pass on it this year, even with a Healthy snack rule at school. She insists that her teacher will forgive it this one time, for this very special occasion. I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear that. Or make this.

Honey and I prepped some pizza dough and pepperoni & olive pizzas decorated like little mummies. They're in the fridge waiting to be baked tomorrow morning and I'm sitting here tired and hungry. I'm a hungry mummy. That's a bit of Halloween humor. You can laugh.

The finest inheritance a parent can give his children is his time.

2011-10-24T22:09:00.001+10:00

For my children:

You may not be able to leave your children a great inheritance, but day by day, you may be weaving coats for them which they will wear for all eternity. (Theodore Cuyler)

There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots, the other, wings. (Hodding Carter)

You may give me nothing during your life, but you promise to provide for me at your death. If you are not a fool, you know what I wish for! (Marcus Valerius Martial)

A person can recieve nothing except be given him from heaven. (Holy Bible)

Sometimes the poorest man leaves his children the richest inheritance. (Ruth E. Renkel)

An infinitude of tenderness is the chief gift and inheritance of all truly great men. (John Ruskin)

I would rather make my name than inherit it. (William M. Thackeray)

Surprises

2011-10-22T20:54:00.000+10:00

Usually I come into my office and find things I need to sign, things I need to read or the occasional student with a note tucked between two very sweaty hands. Last week my days were filled with sugary treats from a staff I've come to appreciate more and more. It's pretty hard to think of yourself as a "boss" when you work with a stellar group of folks who don't give you anything to boss them around with.

I love that word "team"

Two mini cupcakes didn't even make it to this picture.

Chocolates. Need I say more?

The hug that came with these were just as sweet.

Thank you!

Limeapalooza

2011-09-26T22:07:00.001+10:00

What would you have done with all this citrusy goodness?

If you answered this, you're absolutely right. Local lime meringue pies with perfumy zest added right in the filling is incomparably delicious to any other citrus pie I've eaten or made in my life. They're also the best energy efficient pies because they only take ten to twelve minutes to bake. Take that CUC!

Ingredients: 3 limes, zested and juiced, 2 cups of sugar, 4 eggs (yolks, tempered), 2 tbspns of flour, 2 tbspns of butter and 1 1/2 cups of water make the silky filling. Egg whites (of 4 eggs), 1 cup of sugar and a tspn of vanilla make the meringue. Help from four daughters makes it extra delicious!

Trust me, it's good enough to tame even the hungriest bunch!

********

When life gives you limes and you've already made pie, you don't come up with more corny cliches - you make more delicious concoctions. I made Limoncello for the first time the other week. Technically, I shouldn't call it that since I did use limes, but limecello sounds funny, so we're sticking with it. There are literally dozens of recipes out there and they all say the same thing - authentic limoncello takes no less than 40 days. Ha ha, 40 days. Who are we kidding? Giada De Laurentiis is Italian and a chef and a judge on Food Network and she says 4 days is ok. I like Giada.

You'll need a really sharp peeler or paring knife and about ten limes. Peel the limes, making sure to not include any pith (white thingy). See the picture above? I had to scrape the pith off. That's stuff might look innocent, but it's bitter and nasty and will ruin your beautiful drink. This is the most time consuming part and you'll need patience, but you'll smell really good after, so it's a fair trade.

Place your peels in a glass jar and fill it with a bottle of the strongest vodka (good vodka or Everclear) you can find. Leave the jar in a dark place like your pantry, in room temperature for about four days. If you aren't in a hurry, go ahead and let it steep for 40. It's your drink, not mine. After you steep the rinds, it's time to add the second part of the ingredients. The sweetness. Who called my name?

Combine 3 cups of water with 2 1/2 cups of sugar. Let it boil for about 5-7 minutes, or until you have a nice simple syrup. Cool your syrup completely and then add it to your lime infused vodka. Control your urges to try any and let that steep overnight in room temperature.

The next evening, strain the mixture into another bottle. You can use a cheesecloth or coffee filter and a funnel. You can make candied peels out of the leftover rind, but that's another recipe, so just dump em. But, wait! You can't drink it yet. Let your limoncello chill in the freezer for at least 4 hours or overnight. It won't freeze and will be good for about four months. In Italy, limoncello is shared super cold and after dinner as a sort of digestive, but I just like to bust out the shot glasses and "Cheers!"

Peanut Buttery Pecks

2011-09-11T15:15:00.002+10:00

I had a weird dream this afternoon while napping. My son was five and sitting on the couch playing with a toy. He had his head down concentrating on a bent wheel of a plastic truck while the other kids (who weren't even born yet) scampered around the house. I woke up and felt an instant pang of longing. The old days weren't all great, but the kids had good childhoods full of rice krispy basketballs, puppet show parties and cardboard playhouses. I sat for a while and wondered why the dream made me so sad. I didn't want to go back or even relive those moments. Then it hit me. I wanted to hold that little boy again and smush my face into his warm cheeks. I miss the feel of chubby armed hugs around my neck and sticky peanut buttery fingers in my hair. Sigh. We can't ever go back kid and peanut butter will never taste the same again.

Love Letter

2011-09-11T10:42:00.002+10:00

Dear Life,

Your most endearing quality is your endurance. You do not buckle in frustration when the last eggs fall and crack on their way to the mixing bowl. You do not stop, even for the rain that looms on your way to the beach. When I think of how unyielding you are to whatever comes your way it makes me feel like I too can endure. My enduring feeling looks like a plank on a withering rose bush, supportive and strong. Like how Peyton never gives up on homework she can't understand, a furrowed brow, determined to get it. It smells like the morning after a storm, mixed with sadness but bright with promise. I am grateful for each new day and hopeful about every new step as I endure.

Love,

Boni

Garage Sale!

2011-08-24T17:12:00.000+10:00

Tony needs rent money.
Hope needs braces.
Peyton needs glasses.

I could get a night job, but after 6pm my vocabulary consists of "lol" and "he he he".

I could sell off my whopping 12 Onepass miles.

If you got cows, I got cheap sakati.

Anyone wanna buy a left kidney?

You Can Never Have Too Many

2011-08-15T21:44:00.001+10:00

Interests

Especially if you're me. I spent a few years loving green tea Kit Kat, a couple of weeks obsessing over what to make with my first ever bag of matcha, but two yogurt smoothies and one cheesecake later I'm done with it. Maybe. Some green tea crepes, I think would be nice. Until my essential oils arrive. It's all spurned by stuff you can't find on Saipan. And boredom.

Vacations

I never had vacations before. Heck, I never even used to take a break. Why didn't anyone ever tell me they were so fun?

Snacks

If you don't believe me, take all the snacks out of your house during summer break. Enter havoc.

Books

"Can I go to work with you tomorrow, mommy?"

"I've got meetings all week baby, sorry."

"But I need something to read."

"Pey, did you even read the ones I just bought you?

"Done, mommy."

"Already?"

(Not that I'm complaining)

I Love You This Matcha

2011-08-14T22:11:00.004+10:00

I had planned on resting today, even took my medicine for this icky flu, but a nagging desire to bake a matcha cheesecake came over me, and who am I to deny desire? So, Nan and I made a quick run to gather our ingredients and I spent yet another afternoon this weekend barefoot and in the kitchen. Here's my recipe, adapted from this recipe, that worked for us!

Crust recipe:
6 tbs cubed and cold unsalted butter
1 - 2 tbs caster sugar (I just used regular granulated)
7/8 cups flour
1 1/2 tbs cocoa powder

* Use a food processor or hand mixer to combine all these ingredients until you get a gritty texture. Be sure the butter is cold so that you don't end up with a muddy mixture. You want it to sort of look sandy and feel dry to the touch.

Press the crust mixture firmly into the bottom of a lightly greased pan (9 inch is good) and bake for about 25 minutes at 365 degrees.
Cool the crusts before adding cheesecake filling.

Cheesecake batter: Preheat your oven to 360 degrees.
16 - 18 oz. cream cheese
1 can sweetened condensed milk (14 oz.)
2 large eggs
3 1/2 tbs matcha (green tea powder)
1/2 cup of chocolate chips (white or milk)
1 tbs unsalted butter

Melt butter and chocolate first and set aside.

Use a handmixer to beat the cream cheese until it's soft, then slowly add condensed milk.
Add the eggs one at a time.
Combine a cup of this cream cheese mixture to the chocolate mixture and save it for later. This will be what you use to create the swirls in your cheesecake.

Add matcha into the remaining cream cheese mix. We put ours in a tbs at a time so that you don't get dark green spots. Whisk until all the matcha is incorporated into batter.

Pour your batter into the cooled pan and use a spoon to drop dollops of your chocolate mixture randomly into the pan. Use a butter knife to make pretty swirls. You might want to drop the cake pan carefully on the counter a few times to get trapped air bubbles out. Wrap the sides of the pan with foil to avoid the cheesecake spilling over while it's cooking. Put your cake in a water bath (I just added 1 1/2 cups of water to a large pan) and bake for 40 minutes at 360 degrees.

Super Important: As soon as you take your cheesecake out of the oven, run a butter knife along the edges of the pan so that it won't crack as it shrinks. It'll start shrinking almost immediately and if you don't do this, it will just stick to the edges and look like an earthquake hit it. Cool it on counter and then refrigerate. Try and keep yourself from eating it before it's cold.

This green tea cheesecake is Peyton approved!

What's My Retirement Plan? Pajama Blogging. That's not very grown up, I know.

2011-08-09T16:28:00.000+10:00

I'm thinking about retirement. Not because I'm 40. Just because I can. Not because I'm unhappy. Just because I can. Not soon, but in time because I can, I can, I can. I can be anything I want to be because I already did what I had to do. So now the possibilities are endless, or at least more varied, like M&Ms. Did you know M&Ms now come in Coconut?

I could make organic snacks. Dried okra chips and avocado smoothies.
I could create the island's first margarita scented anti-bacterial, non-greasy mosquito repellant. Who wants to smell like Happy Hour? Oooh, me, me, ME!
I could open a Halo Halo shop and put all kinds of local yummies in it like bocayo, mango balls and lemmai bits. It would be a Håfa Håfa.

Or, I could blog in my jammies allllll day long and no one would know. Except you ;)

Sweet Sixteen

2011-07-25T22:12:00.001+10:00

You were born hungry and cried on cue, 6pm every night without fail. Your voice would carry through the house demanding that everyone stop whatever they were doing to hold you. You didn't need to do that because we were all in love the minute we laid eyes on you. Beautiful little girl.

The day I knew you could read we were driving from Hesperia to San Diego. I heard a tiny voice in the backseat repeating words every few miles. It took about three "Holiday Inns" before I realized you were reading signs and billboards out loud. You always surprise me.

When you had to have your tonsils and adenoids taken out the entire family came to the hospital. I got up to walk you in the operating room, so small, with your hospital gown and pigtails on, waving to everyone like you were in a parade, and you said to me that you wanted the nurses to take you in. You've always been fearless.

You never needed a song to sleep, a thumb, a binky, you were so self-assured from the start. I wanted to be just like you when I grew up. And yet you feel so deeply, throw caution to the wind so often without a thought and only because you want so passionately. I watch you carefully because you are so headstrong and trusting and wonderfully embracing of everyone you meet. I can't believe you're sixteen and on your way out of my arms and into this world's. I think of all the things I'd like to protect you from and how trusting you are, so forgiving of everything and I sometimes am afraid you'll break your own heart. Then I remember the little girl who dislocated her elbow and bit her lip as the doctor snapped it into place, waiting until we got to the parking lot to let tears stream down her face and cry my name and I know that no matter what happens on the outside, you'll need your mommy. I'm so proud of you, Hope and I am amazed at the young woman you've become. Sweet can't even begin to describe you.

Big girl shoes, ready for the world.

Makes Scents

2011-07-25T18:52:00.001+10:00

New car smell is totally overrated. If I were in charge of "new" smells at a candle shop, I'd aromatherapize these:

new purse
new shoes
new baby
new day
new love

and my new favorite "new" smell...

New Office

My Pretties

2011-07-04T18:34:00.000+10:00

Oh, nothing. Just showing off. Aren't they pretty? Can you believe how they've grown? Hope, Peyton and Sommer

Today I Am Seven and I'm Clever As Clever, I Think I'll Stay Seven Forever and Ever

2011-06-22T08:26:00.001+10:00

Dear Sommer,

The day you were born I was sitting in a Principal's Meeting, counting my contractions on a napkin in the Aqua Resort. I thought you'd take your time, like your brother and sisters, so I wasn't too worried, but everyone around me clung to my notes. Eight minutes became five and five minutes became three. I don't know why I was so calm, but I figured I'd prayed for a calm daughter, one that would cling to me unlike her independent and strong willed siblings who I encouraged to speak their minds and explore their surroundings. I remember asking God to please make this baby want to hang on to my skirt and cry for me when I leave for work. I even prayed you would have trouble getting out of diapers and giving up your bottle.

At two minutes I sent a note to the Commissioner. I am in labor. May I be excused? To which my colleagues promptly slid their chairs back so I could make my way out of the room. I drove home, belly bumping the steering wheel, tensing then relaxing as I planned what the next few hours would be like. You were not calm, and probably never meant to be that way. You were in a hurry, scooting yourself into my life with the same vivacity you have now. I walked into my room and packed my bags, ready to take a shower. I phoned my secretary, standing in the middle of my bedroom and made out two sentences, "I'm in labor, I'm getting ready to . . ." when my water broke!

Having done this three times before, I soon lost all composure and started to realize that in a matter of minutes I would be in excruciating pain. Nix the shower, I grabbed the most absorbent thing I could find, Peyton's Pull Ups and put on the the loosest outfit within arm's reach. I remember Peyton watching me, "Pull Ups are for babies, not mommies!" she scolded.

The normal eight hour labor I anticipated took about 30 minutes with you, little girl. I remember the mid-wife telling me, as the epidural needle hung from my spine, that I there was no time for the medicine to kick in, I needed to lay back and push. You came into the world demanding a dramatic entrance, and that you got.

Seven years have gone by and I've watched you with amazement. You are none of the things I prayed for, and everything you were destined to be. Last night when you said, "I wish I could be a Scientist, then I would make a machine to rewind my day back to my birthday party" I wished it could happen too, so that when time flies like it does now, I could rewind my day back to the first day I met you.

Love,

Mommy

Who needs paper and pencils when you live on one great big beautiful canvas!

Lemon SupHerb Chicken and Other Lessons

2011-06-14T23:56:00.000+10:00

Ever want to eat roast chicken, but not the same old roast chicken? Ever scour through pages and pages of recipes, but not find the right one? This was me last night until I decided I was going to make whatever I deemed delicious and be happy with it. After all, this was dinner, not Iron Chef, Battle Chicken.

That's how my Lemon SupHerb Chicken was born!

I couldn't really tell you what the ingredients are merely because they came to me like a flash of culinary genius inspired by hunger pangs. Here's what I can tell you. In a small bowl, mix about three minced garlic cloves and about a teaspoon of finely minced ginger with 1/2 a tspn of rosemary, half a lime, a dash of sesame oil and 4 teaspoons of extra virgin olive oil. Add a teaspoon of unroasted sesame seeds and rock salt and pepper to taste.

Paint your chicken massage oil all over half a chicken and stuff the bits and pieces of garlic and ginger under the skins. Bake for at 350 degrees for 15 minutes under a tin foil tent and then for 10 more minutes with the tent off. You'll want to bake this on a roasting pan because it'll produce about a cup of juices which you could or couldn't make into a gravy. I did, but the gravy went to waste because seriously, this chicken rocked.

Serve this with a baked potato coated with minced onion and olive oil and covered with foil.

I love that our children want to cook with us. They learn a heck of a lot more than how to make food, although most of the lessons are simple ones like how to squeeze a lemon over your hand so seeds don't fall in. For me, it's a battle against instant gratification that I want them to win. It's easy to plop an instant meal on the table and call it dinner, but there's so much more satisfaction in taking time to create something healthy and delicious for the ones you love. When the girls see their meals on the table, they beam with pride.

They've learned that some things take time. A wholesome meal, a relationship, a thriving career, a strong body and mind, a well lived life.

Article first published as Lemon SupHerb Chicken and Other Lessons on Blogcritics.

This Ain't No 30 Minute Meal

2011-06-11T22:39:00.001+10:00

I am no longer surprised to hear myself say I love to cook. I cook because there is nothing more satisfying than watching my family eat something I created with love. Some of the greatest conversations I've had with my husband and children have been in the kitchen making a meal. My new passion is finding healthy meals. Okay, it's more of an obsession. After cutting all the fried, saucy, fatty stuff and more than 500 calories out of our diets, eating right and well has become a major priority. Here's one of my husband's favorite dishes, albondigas soup, made with taste and nutrition in mind. Enjoy!

Albondigas Soup

Ingredients for meatballs:

1/2 lb. Lean ground beef/pork

1/2 lb. chorizo (peel casing off and break apart)

Minced garlic (2 cloves)

1 beaten egg

1 carrots minced

1/2 cup uncooked rice

1/2 tspn. salt

1/2 tspn. pepper

1 tspn. ground cumin

1/2 cup chopped cilantro

Ingredients for soup:

Low sodium chicken or vegetable broth 1 carton (6 cups)

1 small onion chopped

3 celery stalks chopped

1 cup diced tomato (I like fresh, but canned is ok)

1 tspn ground cumin

1 tspn oregano

1/2 cup cilantro

1 tspn mint (you can use mint from teabags)

1 large zucchini or 1 cup peas (we like peas)

salt and pepper to taste

Directions:

1. Combine all meatball ingredients and roll large meatballs between your palms tightly so they don't break apart in the soup. A good size for a meatball is about a small orange or a tangerine.

2. Heat broth, onions, celery, tomatoes, cumin, oregano, mint and cilantro in a large pot.

3. Bring the soup to a boil and slowly drop the meatballs in one at a time. If you're afraid they'll fall apart, you can simmer some in a sauce pan so they're more solid, especially if your soup doesn't cover them completely. I usually do this with half of them, while the other half are covered in the pot before dropping them in.

4. Return to simmer and let cook for 10 minutes.

5. Add zucchini and cook for 10 more minutes. (I've never added this, but it's in traditional Albondigas, I've always wondered if kundot (squash) would work).

6. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

7. Put the peas in right before you serve them. Don't worry about the raw rice, it will cook nicely inside the meatball.

Good ol' Cheesecake

I love dessert, but I am also intimidated by baking. As of lately, I can make a mean lemon meringue, awesome pumpkin shortbread, fresh fruit ambrosia and a pretty good homemade gingerbread. This cheesecake is my first merely because it isn't the no-bake, let's mix up some cream cheese and whipped cream kind. I aced that and all I needed was a 2nd grade reading level. I love cheesecake, but only the good kind and I wasn't too sure if I could do it. Which of course meant I had to try.

Ingredients:

8 oz. cream cheese

1 1/2 cup sugar (1 cup tastes just as good)

3/4 cup lowfat milk

3 eggs

1 cup sour cream

1 tspn vanilla extract

1/4 cup flour

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 360 degrees

2. Mix cream cheese and sugar until smooth.

3. Add milk and eggs one at a time. Add sour cream, vanilla and flour until smooth.

4. Pour in premade crust or crush 15 graham crackers and mix with 2 tablespoons of butter and press into a pan.

5. Bake for one hour. I don't know how to prevent my cheesecake from cracking, but some say covering it with a bowl or leaving it in the oven to cool before putting it in the fridge help. Whatever, it tastes awesome so I'm not worried about looks too much.

Next time: I'll add less eggs and cook it shorter. We thought about topping, and put some strawberries on the girl's slices, but decided it was perfect just the way it is. I rocked the cheesecake!

Get Registered

2011-06-06T19:44:00.000+10:00

I sign up for notifications all the time. I know when there's a two for one sale on hand sanitizers and when I can get free shipping plus a really huge discount on wear-to-work outfits. Every night at about 6:00 pm, I get a ScreamFree Parenting tip and Aeoropostale never let's me forget when "the last day to save!" is.

Probably the most important thing I ever signed up for though is the Sex Offenders Registry. Why? Because we've gone too long relying on that creepy feeling. Because parents deserve the information. That's right, we deserve it. When something out there has the potential to devastate those you love, you deserve to know in advance. And because sometimes the people in charge wait for bad things to happen before doing anything about it. It won't take the place of responsible parenting and it certainly is no guarantee my children will be completely safe, but this notification...the one that I just opened that says:

You have registered to receive e-mail notifications for Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands when a registered sex offender moves into your area.

makes me feel better equipped to protect my children. It takes a few of the boogie men out of the shadows for me. It isn't perfect and definitely uncomfortable to look at, but it's less painful than knowing too late.

Stranger Danger

2011-05-28T16:13:00.002+10:00

I remember the night I lost Ton Ton for three minutes in a Vons in California. He was maybe 3 years old and it was the first time in my life I felt like screaming, crying and passing out all at the same time. I imagined the worst, my little boy in the back of a van on his way to Mexico, never to be seen again, and when he finally came running up behind me I wanted to drop to my knees and sob. When I moved home I felt relieved to be in a place where kids could grow up freely and without fear. Raising a child on Saipan would be safer, and stranger danger didn't exist here. That's a myth we all perpetuated for decades and few of us dared to challenge. Strangers are all around us, some we know, others we don't, many we can't ever be sure of.


If you hear or see anything, please call 911 or Crimestoppers at 234-7272

The recent happenings and the disappearance of two young girls who brought an island together to pray, stand and search has brought a new awareness to our small island community. As we continue to hope for the return of these young children, taken in the wee hours of the morning, let us also band as one in the fight to keep our children safe by openly discussing the perils that lurk in our midst.

Tips for talking to your kids about strangers taken from McGruff.org, mychildsafety.net and mightymommy.com.

A stranger is anyone you don’t know. Even if someone is pretty or looks safe, that person is still a stranger.

Never go anywhere with a stranger or get in a stranger’s car.

Never take food, candy, or any other gifts from a stranger.

Do not pet a stranger’s animal, even if you are invited to pet it.

You are a kid. A stranger should not ask you for help. If a stranger asks you for help, get away from him as fast as possible.

Always stay away from the doors and windows when someone comes to visit and let an adult greet the visitor.

If anyone ever makes you uncomfortable in any way, tell your parent or another trusted adult immediately.

If a stranger tries to take you, yell “No!” and fight as hard as you can to get loose. Run to a public place and keep running until you find an adult who can help you.

When you are in a public place, always stay with your parents. Never wander off by yourself.

These tips are from McGruff.org, mychildsafety.net, mightymommy.com and childsafe.org:

You can't tell the good guys from the bad guys by how they look. You are responsible for keeping yourself safe when you're by yourself.

You are responsible for taking care of yourself, not for grownups. Adults who need help should go to another adult.

Instinct is nature's way of talking to you - listen to that inner voice.

If a stranger grabs you, do everything you can to stop him or her from pulling you away or dragging you into his or her car. Drop to the ground, kick, hit, bite, and scream. Do whatever it takes to attract the attention of others who can help you. If someone is dragging you away, scream, "this is not my dad," or "this is not my mom."

Switch Weekends

2011-05-23T00:01:00.000+10:00

Morning. Slept in accidentally, but enjoyed it immensely. The best part was having coffee on the patio with my husband and waking up to the day slowly, while the kids were still fast asleep. Everything seemed light and fresh, happy and unhurried as if Sunday morning was dancing a waltz with us. Even the oranges we laid out for breakfast tasted extra sweet.

Noon. Laughter temporarily interrupted by a work text. It'll have to wait. Tomorrow comes all too soon and the worries of Monday are inevitable, but not on our Sunday. The children joke, laugh, sing and tease. My husband squeezes my hand. Wade reads the lunch menu to me. I think about him and Sommer, barely out of diapers when we first met. I squeeze back.

Lemon meringue pie. Nan and I carefully read the recipe, cutting the sugar in half, mixing, and measuring. It's been measuring and mixing for a long time, but today things are smooth. Maybe today she won't think of everything she's been told about me; I don't think about that standing shoulder to shoulder cooking with my daughter.

"Good night, we love you" we say and turn the car around to fetch the girls. "Hi girlies, we missed you" we say as hugs and kisses come flying. It's not a typical family and it isn't always perfect, but it's ours and we wouldn't change a thing.

"When are you and Wayne having kids?" It was asked of us just the other night and we smiled as we answered. I think about that question, posed all too often, innocent, but loaded. Then I consider all the conversations we've had about the possibility. But...we have kids, eight of them. We may not be able to sit and share stories about labor, teething, or learning to ride a bike, but we have plenty of others. Sharing a biological child is not validation for our marriage. "Wayne and I have kids," I answer. We know enough about growing up in blended families to be sure that good parents are not made of mutual DNA.

Evening. The girls want a sliver of pie before bed, but settle for sleep instead. They had a great weekend, we did too. Everyone's home now and settled in for the night. "Would you have it any other way?" and we think of the struggles but agree, "No." How else could we realize how lucky we are to have one another?

This Dance Ain't for Everyone

2011-05-15T14:52:00.001+10:00

"Have you ever gone down a road, far down and wondered, maybe it wasn't what you want?" That came straight out of poor confused Dex's mouth in Something Borrowed. "Um, Dex...do you mean like marrying the best friend of the woman you really love, even though you don't love her, yet continuing to string the other woman along because you don't know who you want more?"
And Darcy and Rachel. Tsk, tsk. Don't know which of you I'd rather have as a BFF. Center of attention Darcy who takes what she wants regardless of who it hurts, but is so transparent at least you don't have to second guess her or Goody Two Shoes Rachel who can't stand the thought of hurting her girlfriend, but not enough to stop sleeping with her fiance'. I spent three quarters of this movie feeling sorry for poor Rachel with the flawless skin and luminous victimosity while wanting to scratch Darcy's eyes out for being so crass and selfish. That's probably because people like Rachel get away with things solely on the basis of having big puppy dog eyes and looking deceivingly torn. In the end, everybody thought they got what they wanted though. I would have saved my friendship, but that's just me.

I Know What I'm Gonna Look Like When I Grow Up Mommy

2011-05-10T19:54:00.001+10:00

"Miss your bubby?" I asked the girls on the way to school today. It had been a quiet ride and I wanted to break the silence. In fact, the house was a bit quieter since Tonton left. The two short weeks he spent at home prompted the sound of sisters giggling as they once again shared a room and laughter as kids jammed Rock Band each afternoon their brother picked them up from school .

"Yeah" Sommer answered, "I miss him a lot."
"It's hard to imagine growing up and one day not living with each other, isn't it?"
"I'm going to visit Tony, Hope and Sommer all the time when I leave home" Peyton said. "Ahem, what about us?" I joked, pretending to be crushed. "I'll visit you every day" Sommer squealed.

What will it be like? Will they come every weekend to play Scrabble and accuse us of cheating when we beat them? Will I bust out the good wine and ask them to help me learn how to use the latest technology because "I don't know why they have to make it so complicated nowadays!" Will they sit at the table smiling at us bouncing babies on our knees cooing, "dance, dance, dance"? Will they give us instructions on how to care for our grandkids, warning "whatever you do, DO NOT give them sugar!"

Kids get older, but some things never change

Spontaneous hugs and kisses from sweet girls who want a hug back and even from 18 year old boys who just want you to know they love you "one more time"
Presents made by little hands that knock on your bedroom door too early in the morning, excited to see the excitement in your eyes.
The sound of anything followed by the word mommy.
Hearing the words "I love you" before or after any other words are uttered, and sometimes when you least expect it.

I remember playing the "I love you" game with my dad growing up. Me: I love you. Dad: I love you more. Me: I love you more because you only loved me for part of your life and I've loved you from the day I was born. Dad: I love you more because you've only loved me for part of my life and I've loved you all of yours. Now, we all do this with our children and with one another. Text to my sister Bet: K, see you soon. Love you. Text from Bet: k, love you more.

Mother's Day 2011 with half of our children. It was the beginning of a perfect day on a perfect weekend. Or, as Hope put it, "some of the best weekends we've ever had."

Hope Floats Poetic

2011-05-04T00:25:00.000+10:00

Mom? You aren't listening.

"You said that you hope the teachers like this because you worked really hard on it and it makes you emotional thinking about it"

Wow, that makes me want to swing in a park eating strawberry ice cream.

"You're funny, Hope"

And I cut like a ninja.

You Too Can Have A Killer Prayer Life

2011-05-02T23:54:00.000+10:00

Hey God,

I just wanted to say, um, thank you. . . for all the silly prayers I made on my knees, begging and pleading, that you saw fit not to answer. You're a pretty smart God, and for someone I've yet to meet face to face, you get me. Sorry for the whining. Next time I'm on my knees begging for some totally self destructive "whatever", could you just gimme a sign, like a flash of light or something so I don't have to wait too long? Because I'm pretty impatient too. But I guess that would sort of defeat the purpose of knocking some sense into me right? And no, I'm not praying for patience, because I know that's easy yet not fun. Anyway, thanks also for saying yes more than no. Sorta means I'm praying for healthier things now right? I know there's no guarantee you won't say no again, but I'm ok with it. Really.

Love, Bon

Three...two...one

2011-04-30T10:03:00.000+10:00

I have realized lately, that I'm always holding on for something to be done. It's become my coping mechanism for handling multiple tasks without freaking out. I stay calmer when I know that things don't last forever. For instance, I'll start a project or commit to something and think the whole time, "three more weeks and it'll be over." Everything ends, eventually. The weekend's over, accreditation's done, my sister's married, my son's a man and I am 40. Then I'll move on to the next thing and in no time the days will flicker, like lights before the power goes out, and that too will pass, with or without me thinking about it. Tomorrow becomes 30 minutes from now so quickly. The future is a memory waiting to happen. It's a good thing and a bad thing.
Do this. Wherever you are, consciously decide to remember every detail about the moment. What you're wearing, the way your skin feels in your clothes, the smells, how you feel . . . and try to imagine it as a memory. Poof.

It makes me all warm and tingly inside

2011-04-29T17:51:00.003+10:00

Sometimes I just can't believe my eyes. I mean, I can believe what I'm reading, but I can't believe that people say the things they do. The Governor said, in today's paper, that taking away Educational Tax Credit benefits is a great idea?! Then he goes on to say that just because the they're taking money that businesses choose to donate in order to augment the sad reality that schools aren't supported enough, "PSS should not place additional burdens on the central government during these difficult economic times." Right. Who needs snotty little kids whining about being in hot classrooms and not having enough crayons? It's not like the government is responsible for them anyway. Public school schmublic school. Who needs education? Pffshh...

Vintage CorningWare...I'm Speechless

2011-04-26T20:21:00.001+10:00

My mom came over with several pots of orchids for our yard last Friday. Yes, that was nice, but if you know my mother she is always giving me some quirky garage sale find she managed to hoard for years, just waiting for the perfect time to surprise me. "Hmmm... Good Friday, I think Boni could use another Southwest deviled eggs tray."
Her favorite presents are old dishes, magazines with living healthy advice about 20 years too old or ginormous tapestries mounted on gold plated frames. It used to bug me, but now that I've found mismatched kitchenware to be chic, I gratefully accept all things as long they aren't from China. My mother dislikes anything from China, even though everything comes from China. Except fortune cookies. I get those on the internet for cheap. I kinda like that there are hints of her everywhere now. It kind of reminds me that I though I try to put everything in neat little piles, not everything belongs that way. Like life.

Mommy, Does the Easter Bunny Have GPS?

2011-04-18T20:22:00.002+10:00

There are things I do as a mother to create little memories for my children. Things like making cookies for Santa, turning graveyards into chocolate pudding and playing Easter Bunny once a year. This year, the Easter Bunny isn't coming. The girls will be somewhere else when they wake up Sunday morning. To me, it feels like the secret hiding places in this house will be crying out for colorfully wrapped, sugary sweet happiness packaged in cellophane and the sound of children searching for another memory. In reality, I'm having a harder time saying goodbye to the Easter Bunny than the girls are. It has a lot to do with having to say goodbye to what I thought would never end. I never thought there would come a day when I wouldn't have my children around. Or a time when I couldn't be the one tying bows on their baskets, watching them giggle and awe at what I'd crafted for them with my love.
I could be selfish and give away hints that I'll miss them. Manipulate them into staying so that I can watch them hunt for baskets. Steal opportunities for them to grow. Cheat them into loving me more. This is sounding more and more ridiculous the more I think about it. More than my mommyhood, what I really want is for my children to love. Not just me, but themselves and everyone lucky enough to share their lives with them.

"Train up a child in the way that she should go, and when she is old, she will not depart from it." Proverbs 22:6

Aiden on a jellybean high

Hope and Nanny helping with the Easter Cupcakes

Happy Birthday Honey Buns!

2011-01-29T09:32:00.000+10:00

Even though dad got first dibs at your birthday, way too early in the morning, leaving me to miss you for the remainder of the day, Happy Birthday my love, love, love!

How to Make New Year Pop!

2010-12-31T18:10:00.004+10:00

First you start with treats. We chose M&M's, stick treats, and rainbow lollipops. You can add trinkets, toys and anything else that's fun. Since this is the last candy the girls will eat this year, we went craaazy!

You'll need wrapping paper, cardboard tubes, ribbon, confetti, scissors and glue. We just rolled the wrapping paper off their tubes and used the cardboard. You'll want to score the tubes down the middle, but not cut them all the way. You could also just use two tubes and hold them together with tape.

Tie one end with ribbon and try to look like you're having a blast even though your mom is making you do this when you'd rather be chatting online with your friends.

Fill the tube with confetti because it really isn't New Year's Eve if you aren't making a mess.

Tie the other end of the popper with ribbon. Make sure it's real tight so that it "pops" when you snap it in half.

Be sure to tie them tightly so confetti doesn't fall out. It should look like a long piece of candy, with curly ribbon at the ends. Pretty huh?

Yup, it's that easy!

When your mom isn't looking, stash some extra candy in your purse. When she asks why there seems to be missing candy 1) look innocent, she'll forget all about it in a second 2) blame it on your sister, but choose wisely which one you blame.

This New Year's craft idea is brought to you by Sisters Who Do Cool Things.

When everyone's screaming "Happy New Year!" and popping fireworks and champagne, we're going to be popping open candy covered confetti awesomeness. Or, was it confetti covered candy fabulousity?

Sommer would like to remind everyone to please be responsible and clean up after yourself. It's a great piece of advice for making stuff and for life!

What I Got For Christmas

2010-12-27T18:33:00.000+10:00

I got some really expensive gifts this year.

I witnessed my children enjoy giving more than receiving.

I was asked to make cookies from scratch because "that's what we always do" and I realized that the traditions I worked so hard to build have been etched in our hearts as well as our home.

I saw my children teach and share the same things I taught them.

The people I love surrounded me for one more year.

It's more than I could ask for and nothing I could ever deserve.

Because Everything's My Fault :)

2010-12-26T18:13:00.002+10:00

Sommer Kalani

I'm ready to go to the party now!

Sommer, we're not going to a party.

But, you said we were going to grandma's.

We are, but to just to visit.

So....

you made me do all this for nothing!!???

You BETTER Warch Out!

2010-12-11T11:59:00.001+10:00

When you live in the islands, every holiday is like being thrown into a vortex. I mean, let's be honest, what really belongs to us? Constitution Day, Covenant Day, Commonwealth Day, Citizenship Day. All we got's the four C's, folks. Every one of them is about being lucky enough to crash someone else's party, but I'm not complaining.
Growing up I always liked celebrating Easter even though I didn't see a real white bunny rabbit until I was in college. And Thanksgiving? Good Lord, thank God for textbooks, because I always thought that Plymouth Rock was somewhere near Naftan Point, just beyond the cliffline. Turkey came in sealed plastic containers by the slice for me. Who knew they were actually really big chickens?

Our children are much more fortunate, they don't have to endure the crazy stories our parents had to make up to explain why we were spraying snow on our windows when it isn't even cold outside. "Cause nai, we're gonna pretend there gots snow so Santa Claus can climb down our chimney and give you plenty pressen." Oookay... if I tried telling that to Sommer today, she'd make a beeline for Google Search and expose my ignorance. But seriously, I love Christmas in the islands and things changed after a while. Songs were translated into Chamorro and Carolinian, some were localized like, "jingle bells, coconut shells, sticky birds all the way!" Pretty soon we started making sandmen instead of snowmen and yesterday I even saw an office decorate their palms with ornaments. The spirit of Christmas is not snow, boughs of holly (whatever that is) or mistletoe (that's when your fingernail on your feet are very sharp, no?). The spirit of Christmas is giving and sharing; and if you're lucky enough to receive, appreciating everything you're blessed with. For me and my family, it's remembering that long ago a King was born and even though we botched it all up, He came for us in the humblest of circumstances, while we were all yet sinners, and that gift can never be refunded, re-gifted or rejected.
P.S. I still think a Chamorro woman wrote Santa Claus is Coming to Town, because who else likes to yell, "You BETTER warch out! You BETTER not cry!"

The Same and Brand New

2010-12-02T20:41:00.002+10:00

I didn't take any pictures of our Thanksgiving dinner because I was happily and busily making it this year. We spent the night with my parents and my sister's family laughing and enjoying the sound of children squealing in delight. It was a marathon cooking adventure that brought out mostly winning recipes and one that flopped horribly like a big chubby man in a red suit diving off the bantalan. The winners: Rosemary Citrus Roasted Turkey, sage and feta mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, Italian sausage and sourdough stuffing, pumpkin shortbread squares, cranberry orange relish, tequila sangria with fresh fruit and candied yams all from scratch. Loser: butternut squash soup. It was such a culinary mess that my dad actually said, "Don't ever make your pumpkin soup again for as long as you live, but everything else was delicious." You can always count on my dad not to sugarcoat things.

Favorite quote of the evening:

Me: Sommer, please change the channel. That cartoon is inappropriate.

Sommer to Savannah: Hey Nannah, wanna watch Food Network?

Favorite dish of the evening: My first ever shortbread squares. Mmmm...

Favorite comment of the evening: I love you mom. You're my hero. (Hope)

Favorite memory of the evening: Sitting around the Scrabble table drinking sangria and knowing beyond a doubt how blessed I am to have such a wonderful family.

We had just enough to supply a perfect breakfast the next day, then it was off to work, home and Christmas tree ornament hunting. The girls and I decided on some sparkly red apples, crystal green grapes and shimmering plum pomegranates. Decorating the tree is a big deal in our home. There's the village, the Nativity, the stockings to hang, the garlands to string and the tree to decorate. There's a routine we all depend on like having to add something new to the village and making sure no one mistakes the shepherd boy for a wise man, but this year was markedly different in a couple of significant ways. Tonton wasn't here with us and we all felt his absence despite anyone mentioning it. The music didn't seem to make us giggle as much or sing as loudly and each of us kind of took turns sitting down for a bit looking disoriented. "What's wrong Peyton?" "Uh, I don't know. I just wanna watch." We hung up one less stocking on the wall. We'll send one less letter to Santa. Sigh...

It was also new and promising. Hope and Peyton arranged the Christmas village all by themselves and it looked awesome. It actually looked like a completely different village, which reminds me of the proverb about entering the same village from a different bridge. It's all about perspective, I suppose. I am happy to relinquish my village architect duties to our beautiful girls. Ahhh...and so we're ready. Christmas is on it's way. Amidst the frenzy of mad dashes to on island and online stores for just the right gift, I sit calmed and comforted, content in knowing that all I need is never more than an arm's length away. We'll spend some of it in the snow and some of it in the sand. Every year will be the same and brand new, familiar and transformed, just like each of us!

Facebook: I love you, I hate you

2010-11-11T11:58:00.000+10:00

Ambivalence: having simultaneous conflicting feelings towards a person or a thing. Facebook: an anomaly; not really a person or a thing, but sort of a person and a thing.

Why are people so drawn to Facebook? To connect with family and friends near and far; to satisfy deep seeded narcissism; because High School sucked for them or rocked for them and FB is page closer to unachieved popularity; or because hey, everyone could use more friends?! Why do I have a Facebook account? The last question is the easiest to answer, so I'll start there.

I like FB because I can connect with my friends. We can hang despite the fact that you're in Fresno sitting in a boardroom and I'm on Saipan lounging in my pajamas. I choose everyone I friend, but on FB the word "friend" is loosely defined.

My friends are any one of the following:
1. A person who I have a relationship with such as a sister or a colleague. You may be someone I regularly hang out with and you hold a special place in my heart. I want you to know when I finally perfect that pie recipe or when Sommer writes a letter all by herself. I also want you to know when I'm not feeling so hot because you always come through with just the right words.
2. People whom I am somewhat familiar with, who I occasionally spend time with and who I am always eager to communicate and share my life with.
3. People with whom I am acquainted, respect, appreciate and would like to get to know better. I have always thought you were witty, talented and kind. I like your posts and I am not reluctant to comment on your page.
4. Those who I don't mind sharing my life with, but I only know through other friends and accept or invite into my life. I spend time on your page sometimes because you have a really great way with words, I'm interested in your life and if we had more time, I think we could be great pals.
5. Friends of friends I don't know too well, but don't currently have any reason to distrust. Hey, if Ana says you're cool, you're cool with me.

These "friends" of mine are part of my social network and have access to my life like no one else in the world. Trust is a big part of my FB experience. I trust that my friends are genuinely interested in my life even though I know there is a always an element of netstalking going on. Which brings me to my next topic.

If you are not my friend on FB, it is also for specific reasons.
1. You haven't asked me or I haven't invited you. This may be because we haven't found one another or just don't have the nerve to request friendship. It's cool, I feel you. Rejection sucks.
2. It's not you, it's me. Either way, we can't be friends. You've asked or I've asked, but there are doubts. I don't friend students (and others) because it's simply unprofessional. I love my students, but I am not their "friend". Teachers, administrators and school personnel are role models and advocates.
3. I do not friend people who only friend me so that I can supply ammo on Mafia Wars. I also do not friend people who supply ammo for haters. Haters need love too, but not on my page. If I wouldn't invite you to a dinner with my family, or make a plate of food for you to share, I probably wouldn't friend you.
4. I didn't recognize you! Sometimes I need to see a face, sometimes I don't remember the face. It's cool too if you didn't friend me because the profile pic of tambourines and legs doesn't ring a bell and when you tried to look through my other photos you weren't allowed to view them. Vice versa. When you only post a picture of your cleavage, I have to admit my photographic memory fails me. I'm more inclined to remember your hair. Sometimes your request stays on my page for months until I finally realize that, OH EM GEE.... that's you? Confirm!
5. DUH, I BLOCKED you or you BLOCKED me! We just not that tight, yo. If I blocked you it means that you are not welcome to be part of my everyday life because I do not trust you, because you are toxic to my emotional health, because you have no business sharing even mundane moments in my life and did I mention I don't trust you. Not to be harsh but, get over it. Blocking you also means I don't care to be part of your social network, so don't worry. I may have decided to block you because I don't spend any time thinking of you and feel it unnecessary to know what goes on in your life. No hard feelings. This should save you the trouble of lurking on my page to figure out if I'm snooping on yours so that you can post some cryptic status about how I care what's going on. I'm all for building your self-esteem, but trust me, I don't care.
6. You're a stalker and you give me the creeps. Ew

With all that said, I go back and forth about Facebook. I love it because it's great to be on top of all my friend's lives and it's also great to be able to share mine. With FB, no birthday goes uncelebrated, no joke is ignored, no request for a ((hug)) goes unnoticed. It's the FB drama that turns me off. Venting is one thing, but psychoraping people with your status only makes others look stupid and I hate watching people look stupid, friend or not. Ouch.

If you're wondering why I'm blogging about Facebooking, I think you'd agree. This would make a ridiculously long status.

Who Moved My Chi?

2010-11-10T14:38:00.001+10:00

Not sure where to start this one. It's ironic that in the middle of one of the busiest months in my life I feel awkwardly bored and unproductive. I'm scribbling this while taking a break from excruciatingly drab academic writing and in the middle of what I suspect will be the flu (A-a-achoo. Bless me). Yet, I feel ... blah.
Maybe I feel overwhelmed, not bored. There's so much happening all the friggin' time that I don't know where things begin and where they ought to end anymore. Looking at the fax brings heaving convulsions. I'm dodging deadlines I didn't even know existed. Yeah, I really enjoy it when the Hallway Neatness Compendium was due yesterday and I spent all week compiling The Campus Earthworm Demographics Chart.
Wondering how my son is and when I'll be able to see him has become a daily obsession. It's almost like being pregnant again, except he's outside my body and getting reamed by some drill sergeant because some clowns decided to steal donuts from the mess hall. Sucks.

Perhaps I feel blah because I can never get my mind to quiet down long enough to focus on one thing. My mind has been interrupting a lot and it's getting pretty annoying. Like this morning, when I decided that I had to call in sick. My body said, "don't even think about getting up" and my mind answered, "remember the report? who's gonna do the orders? how can you lay in bed all day long and feel good about yourself? Lazy bones!" You can't win with my mind.

Faves

2010-10-25T18:13:00.000+10:00

Favorite quote of the weekend
My son: "I won, I won!"
Me: "Hey! Wait a minute, we won, remember?"
My son:"Oh...yeah...thank you, mommy"

Favorite sound of the weekend
From my girls: "Mommmmyyyy!!! We missed you!"

Favorite text of the day
From dad: Love you forever, more than a circle

Favorite chat message of the night
From honey: Hey there _________ .

Just Encountered

2010-10-12T20:34:00.000+10:00

A happy marriage is a long conversation which always seems too short. ~Andre Maurois

I have a great marriage. I'm so amazed how even saying that makes me smile. I remember not being able to even think that; how saying it out loud left me empty, like an imposter with a thousand lie detector wires springing from my body. So, when Wayne said he wanted to go to ME I thought two things. One: "Where in the world did this man come from?" And, two: "Should we do this?" The first time I went to ME I was trying desperately to glue something back together that was never fastened properly to begin with. I foolishly wondered if doing this again would jinx an already beautiful relationship, but as I looked into my husband's eyes I knew I wanted the same thing.
We set our plans out carefully. I asked again and again, "Do we have a plan B?" , and he reassured me again and again that we'd thought of everything. Still, I had a gnawing feeling that something bad was coming our way. As the days passed, my worry diminished and I was beginning to look forward to a weekend alone with my lover, my friend, my husband. On Friday, hours before we were to leave, the plans started to crumble. We'd been sabotaged, predictably, I thought. As I prepared to concede, Wayne reminded me how eagerly we waited for this weekend together and the importance of it all. We made our way excitedly, but each visibly worried about children and their broken hearts. It was hard to listen to the disappointment, but we were parents and not opposed to gathering 8 or 7 children. We knew deep inside that this request could not be expected from anyone else without leaving us preoccupied with worry.
At the site, my heart beat loudly in my chest, like the raindrops on a tin roof. I could feel the hard lump of suspense well in my throat and hear the sound of voices getting louder, like the roar of waves on a windy beach. Up until this very moment I had been focusing on everything that didn't matter. I returned the grip of my husband's hand on mine, looked into his eyes, watched his smile creep all over him, and miraculously felt everything disappear as we walked hand in hand. There were angels everywhere and it was overwhelming.
I recall looking at Wayne every now and then, watching for signs of fatigue because of the intensity of what we were experiencing. Our muscles ached, our eyes became weary, but we pressed on, driven from within. At the end of it all were discoveries about one another, ourselves and our spirituality.
Two days later, the marriage I thought could not get any better did and the man I knew I loved for so many reasons also became my hero. The God who promised never to leave me was not only there all along, but found His way into the most intimate parts of our relationship.

Pink Stilettos Come To Mind

2010-09-25T13:41:00.000+10:00

Singing in the car "."..and he said someday I hope you get the chance to live like you were dy-y-ying. Got me thinking, what would I do if I found out I had years, months, weeks, days?

I'd do stand up comedy and laugh at my own jokes
I'd walk the catwalk in stilettos
I'd learn how to scuba dive and capture images of all the animals no one ever looks at
I'd paint pictures on the streets of Paris for free and give them out to total strangers
I'd home school all my kids while we traveled the world in search of folktales
I'd be a teacher again, and teach for free
I'd write and write and write and never stop until everyone I love has a book of their own
I'd make all of you video cards so I'd never have to miss a birthday, graduation, wedding, birth, flat tire or heartbreak.
I'd stop every morning to give thanks for another day, no matter how short
I'd forgive. And forget. Forever.

I'd never make my bed, worry about those last ten pounds, complain about standing in line or care about singing off key ever again. Most of all, I'd never forget to say I love you.

Mom: What would you do, Hope?
Hope: I don't know, yours sound so much better. Why can't you do those now that you're not dying?
Mom: Sometimes, I guess things have to happen to make you throw caution to the wind.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and I'm reminded not that I've been blessed to have been spared, but that I can't take anything for granted. I remember the battles of those I loved who have lost their battle against cancer and those still fighting. I pray that those of us who have survived or continue to get "good news" each time we seek a new exam will be given the opportunity to share our lives in meaningful ways.

Breast Cancer Prevention: online at Feel Your Boobies and on island at Pinktober!

You got me all Googly eyed

2010-09-24T17:17:00.001+10:00

I never thought the day would come when someone would Google "Saipan Budweiser consume statistics" and get my blog, but here it is! I'm at your service, and I know who drinks Bud, where you can get it and even how to make a fancy mosquito repellent stand out of an empty Budweiser can. Not.

Other popular Google searches that made their way here this week: pugua, how to revive a rosebush that was improperly cut, pteromechanophobia, hot sexy babes with hot sexy jobs, Chamorro miss you and my fave, stupidest things to think about. I was just kidding about the hot sexy jobs. I wanna give a special holla to my peeps reading from Hungary, Morocco, and Nigeria. The three of you keep me writing all this crazy stuff, so here's to you! I have one crazy stalker who keeps reading the same thing each week, maybe three times a week. You need help my friend, or a cold Bud.

In other news: eBlogger just upgraded their image upload tool, which rocks, because the old one really unrocked.