The Ouchie of the Week

This posting may contain an image that is slightly disturbing. If you are affected by pictures of abnormally large blisters, shield your eyes.

You may have noticed a weird addendum to the side my foot today. Well, it is official. I have got the biggest blister I have ever had. Sadly I cannot claim to have gotten it in some courageous way like a death-defying feat to save the whales or even climbing a tree to rescue a caterpillar. It came from an attempted roller blade ride to Shore Road (approximately 1 mile away) with one pair of normal socks and roller blades from the thrift store.

I started out, sure I got a few amused smiles--okay a lot of amused smiles. My helmet felt like it should fit when I started but the minute I got outside it promptly determined otherwise. For some reason it preferred to sit on the back of my head (or off) but I pulled it on as quickly as possible.

There was a point when I started going down the hill and decided that I should practice what W suggested. There was a sweet family walking up the hill from below. I stopped to wait for them and the father gave me a sort of worried look and told me, "Just being wary." I smiled understandingly and laughed, "I'd be wary too if I were you." They walked by and I rode on.

It was around then I noticed a small pain in my foot. I rode about 3 more blocks and all of the sudden the pain was excruciating. If I stepped or try to ride at all it felt like a tack entering into my feet (it was awful). I started the mile long trek back to the house and each step was pain filled. I passed a few people and smiled as if nothing was wrong. I tried breathing techniques to quell my attention the pain (you know, like when you have a baby). Apparently I need more practice at that.

A few people gave me really funny looks because I was taking baby steps (they were the most comfortable). An old man walked slowly passed me, that was kind of embarrassing. I just kept on the baby steps until I crossed roads and then I let the pain reign as I raced across.

I took of my shoes the second I got inside the front door and found a blister 1.5 to 2 inches across and an inch tall. In short--OUCH!

I later went to a nearby store and purchased 50 huge band-aids (it takes two to completely cover it). If I ever use those skates again I am going to wear three pairs of socks.


Note to self: Do not buy skates from the thrift store--unless they are brand new.


The oozing part is only a part of the blister. The circled part is how biggish it really is. That white blob is the removed skin, I couldn't bring myself to pull it off. Thank heaven for Neosporin-y anti-everything salves.

Kidlets

Lately I have been striving (somewhat successfully) to enjoy my children more every day and to enjoy all the little things my kids have been doing. I have been impressed by the little things my kids have been doing.

R has started school. He likes it for the most part, but isn't too thrilled with the length (I miss him too so I can't argue with that). He listens well and is quite obedient. He is determined and loves to play any game on the computer. When he was reading to me yesterday I felt so thankful and blessed and proud. Sure he's not ready to start reading professionally, but he is getting better and I can hear the progress.

When I was growing up my parents had me and my brothers read in the car when we went on family trips (you've probably read this before). It always felt like my parents thought I was the best reader in the world and I could almost touch their pride in me. Thanks Mom and Dad! I want my kids to feel that too!

S has been playing with T. She is so loving and kind and they both laugh almost the entire time they are playing. They build castles out of the couch cushions and they tunnel through the blankets. The "cook" yummy food in their kitchen and pretend to eat it. S reads T his favorite book of colors and objects. She shares the telephone when addressed by T (thank you Grandmas for your dear patience in waiting for the telephone transfers). She loves to help with cooking and we've cooked dozens of yummy whole wheat muffins in the last few weeks. She loves to go to the park and makes friends quickly with any girls or boys on the playground. She loves to paint and draw. I am so thankful she is my girl!

T adores W and follows him everywhere. When it comes time for W to go, T will wail for him at the door (until sidetracked). He loves, loves, loves phones. He will spend an hour playing with the same phone. It makes him feel sublimely happy. When I take pictures he gives me a complementary smile. He loves stories and he pushes his stroller any where he can. He says "apple," "ball" "kack kack" (back pack) and a small assortment of other words.

These are just a few of the great things that I love about my dear ones. I am so blessed!

Sky by R

I just found a poem that R wrote last year and I felt like it was so wonderful (it may be the mom in me) that I thought you may like to see it, with his special spelling and all.

Sky

The sky is bloo
anb the clads or wite
and the sun is hot
and i see my shadoe
anh the wind fils gud.

Tooth Fairy

R lost his second tooth last night. In anticipation for the celebrated and exciting tooth fairy he carefully situated the tooth under his pillow during the night.

Somehow the tooth fairy fell asleep on the way and failed to make the proper switch.

Luckily Daddy was there to save the day. He gave her a quick phone call, rushed into the room and told the kids they had to close their eyes so the tooth fairy could come (because, as you know, children cannot see her). Then when they opened their eyes R tore the pillow off of the bed and Ta-da the money was there. That tooth fairy is one clever fairy.


Before this occurred I heard the kids talking together.

R: Do you think the tooth fairy is real? I mean, Santa is real because we see him, but we don't see the tooth fairy. . .

What NOT to say.

Last night I went to GAP to see if I could find a pair of pants that fits. Before making it over to their overpriced pants I stopped to see what was on clearance. It was there I met two sales associates and a woman with her daughter, preparing for another daughters exit to the great unknown--college--in Maine.

Somehow the woman got slightly agitated that the boy sales associate suggested a white shirt with everything (because white seems to go with everything). She wanted a splash of color for her daughter. Finally she burst out, "How old do you think I am?" With a Brooklyn accent the "am" sounded sort of like "yam."

The guy looked at her (he was African American by the way--which I am adding because I found out that between races we have difficulty recognizing facial features and for me--age) and said, "sixty---uhhhh."

The lady said, "Stwop it right there. That is way to old."

Then she asked the other sales associate and me--since I was in the general vicinity. The sales associate kindly said 35. I said 41 (granted I may have given her leeway--you never know if people smoke because that adds about 20 years depending on the amount of time they have smoked).

At any rate she went around guessing people's ages and she guess I was about 5-10 years older than I am. Ugh. Now I remember why we do not EVER talk about people's ages.

Of course she capped it off several times by saying, "But age doesn't really matter to me. Then giving me detailed snippets of her 50+ (which I have nothing against) year life."

Now I understand weight, age, and abilities talks to women --never work--avoid them.

I don't think I'll go back to GAP for awhile.

Albanian Rescue from the Ticket Department

Today was laundry day. So carried 3 very large bags down the stairs and huffed and puffed them into the double stroller and then navigated carefully across the street to the laundromat. This is one of the times I smugly think to myself, "I am so proud of me."

About an hour later someone told me they had to haul their kids out of their house to move their car---and it struck me that I needed to move my car as well. So I ran to the car, passing ticketed vehicles on the way hoping that my car would somehow remain unticketed. I got to the car by which two men were standing. One said to me, referring to the other, "This man saved you from getting a ticket. You owe him $22." Thinking of the price of the ticket (normally $45) I figured this was a fair trade so I said, "I don't have $22 with me right this minute, but I do have $20." The second guy laughed and said not to worry about it.

Then the man that originally spoke said, "Come over here and we'll rinse your car off. He had a pressure washer so that was pretty cool. Then he said, "Are you Albanian?"

Where we live it is most usual to be an immigrant or the son or daughter of an immigrant. It is unusual to be from anywhere other than Brooklyn in the USA. I am asked quite often if I am from Poland or Albania and I always reply that I think my ancestors were, but I am not sure they understand what an ancestor is. So they usual look a little confused and taken aback. Maybe I need to learn how to do speak with a good Brooklyn accent. I have also considered learning the different Russian, Albanian, Arabic, etc. accents so I can act like I blend in and they won't ask where I am from.

Anyway, it was really nice of these people to save us from getting a ticket and to give my car a shower. I was very thankful.

Oh, and my laundry is all clean. . . now to get it all completely folded and put away (the last half of the monumental task).

Saturday is a special day . . .

What could be more fun than spending time as a family. We were trying to find a festival in Red Hook, but ended up going to Ikea and driving around. We pretended we were going on a cruise and drove through the Carribean Princess Cruise parking lot a couple of times. We should have gotten out and taken pictures of us waving at passengers, but they kept giving us the suspicious look so we stayed in the car and took pictures instead. I love being with my dear ones. Each day is a new adventure and I am so thankful to be having an adventure with them--especially my sweet husband that I love profusely! Heaven wouldn't be Heaven without them.

R's happy face about being at Ikea--or something like that makes me happy.

Also, the pictures are blurry because my dear T has a fetish for my phone and will not put it down if he gets his sweet, often dirty hands on it. I think his small, lens size fingertips were all over the lens prior to this picture. It could have also have been that it was taken with a camera phone inside a building.

Apparently he wants a moment at the keyboard and he's sitting next to me saying "Hep! Hep" which means, "Help." He wants to help me. Such a sweetie.

fdhv-- love T

Announcing . . . . . [drumroll please]. . . .

Tiffany and Mike are ENGAGED!!!

Real men are glad to help, whenever and however they can. (Thanks!)

Pictures from the July Utah/Idaho Trip

For those of you not familiar with my dear sister-in-law and her soon-to-be-hubbie they are a couple of the nicest and in my personal opinion best people on the planet (of course, I'm not biased [wink, wink]).
We (myself and my family) are so thankful for them!

P.S. I would also like to note that my bro-in-law Ben also in the picture, is also a real man. He was so helpful when we were in Utah. Thanks Ben! And you should have seen Grandpa VDG loading my kidlets on his shoulders as if they were as light as a feather. Did I mention that we were blessed? That was an understatement, but I couldn't think of a better way to put it.

Updates on Goliath

You know how a few months ago I told you about a guy I keep seeing in my neighborhood that seems to be eight feet tall and also seems to have his own climate. Well today I saw him again and I decided his new nickname is going to be Goliath--not because he's bad, because frankly I really don't know that or not and I don't feel right to judge. That is his nickname because I don't know the names of any other sort of giant-ish people.

Let me give you a short description of the fellow. He is tall, long sandy hair, beard, bushy eyebrows, and has a lack of appreciation for the above head personal space of random passers-by.

Anyway, I was finishing my jog today and walking the last block to my house to cool down when I happened upon this man. I smiled at someone else I was passing and out of the corner of my eye saw the guy. As he passed me leaned down practically into my personal bubble of space and said sarcastically, "How do you like my weather?"

What did he mean by that? How should I have responded? Should I have said, "Thank you for your good weather, good sir. It couldn't get better." or "Your not the one responsible for this fine weather. [I would have sounded incredulous--respectfully incredulous.] Someone much bigger than you is in charge of everything."?

I may have told you before this guy kinda scares me. . . once again I am reminded why.

I am learning that one must face one's fears, mustn't one?! I am truly tempted to say to the guy next time he does something like that, "I'm fine, and how are you?"

Do you think that would rock his giant-sized boat? What is your opinion on the subject?

What makes you happy?

Having fun at the park with my family has always made me feel super glad. :D These pictures were not all taken the same day.

Sugar = ?

New studies, apparently, are showing that we need to reduce the amounts of sugar we take in, by drastic amounts. Sugar is in practically everything we eat and it can impact us exponentially. Insomuch that NYC has a new sign they are posting in many subway trains for 3-month-runs. You can find out more about it by going here (where I got the picture).

Isn't it telling though. How many of us thought those drinks were doing that to us? Doesn't it make you want to hide your sugar soda/drink so no one sees you drinking it? It is very to-the-point.

Good thing this doesn't seem to include candy or pastries or I would think I may be in trouble. How much of that gunk is in my system now? I shudder to think. Dollar store candy, you are the bane of my existence--and teeth.

Realizations of a 10-er-um-twenty-something-year-old

Today the kidlets and I went to the beach. It wasn't just any beach either, it was a pay-$8-a-vehicle beach. It was . . . . drumroll please . . . the Robert Moses Beach. You know it has water when it has Moses in the name right?

It felt like I was 10 again. Let me tell you why. Before we went to the beach we stopped by my favorite dollar store--commonly called Dollar Tree--which for some of you might be incredibly uneventful. Sure, we have 99 cent stores around us (some may argue that we have too many), but their names are indelibly misleading because most things in them cost $1.49. That extra $.50 adds up pretty quick in my mind so I buy half as much as I would if they actually sold things for 99 cents (sad but true).

Back on target-------okay, so I bought about $5 worth of junk food--carmels, jolly ranchers, heart-attack-in-a-bag-bugels (seriously 40% dv of sat fat and you know you can't eat just one OR just one serving), and fruit juice. I forgot to mention I bought sugar-filled cookies and candy--cough--granola bars. Bring on the simple sugars. Needless to say we were all feeling pretty happy.

W was out of school by very rare happenstance and he came too so when we got there I took Tommy and we played in the water then I gave W the babe and grabbed R by the arm and played in the waves (which were delightfully dandy).

This beach is very different from Coney Island Beach because
1. It is much cleaner (bathroom, showers, quick outside shower for your legs and feet too)
2. The sand is actual sand-not mud.
3.I didn't see any glass in the sand (Coney Island has a rich assortment of colors broken into their sand)
4. I actually saw a crab at R.M.B.
5. People had kids and were for the most part modest, which makes it more comfortable for everyone.
6. Did I mention the place was clean?
7. Bigger waves--ohhhhhhh.

You may think I am one of those mothers that delights in sitting and watching my child play in the sand and build sandcastles and cheer them on. I do like that. If I have a good conversationalist with me I could do it for hours watching all my kids build sand castles--if they didn't move from their spot but kids never stay in the same place for more than 10 minutes.

Playing in the water holding R's hand and knowing the others are safe with a responsible adult (like W) is so heavenly. Memories flood my mind with the new ones I make as I feel the water on my body.

I didn't initially mean to get wet, I mean I had on my cute cut-off capris and a hot pink shirt, but T got pummeled by a wave and I had to save him. Since I was nearly half way wet I decided there was no problem getting all wet. I figured with what I was wearing it would look somewhat like a wet suit--at least the wet part.

I got a few funny looks, especially when I was running as hard as I could, stepped in a hole and face planted into the water. It was wonderful. I love playing in the water. Every time I fell and got back up and fell immediately down I could not help but laugh gleefully. I saved the kid's toys several times and must have done so heroically because some of the other mothers were cheering for me (thanks).

Overall it was delightful to play like crazy and to enjoy all the gloriousness of the ocean. Thanks W for letting me play like I was ten and for allowing me to splurge on the candy until Halloween time.

Sisters that live near me I think we should make a Robert Moses Beach day. That way we can converse, watch, and play all we need. It is so relaxing. Ahhhhh.

Sadly I forgot my camera and my phone so I have no pictures, but hopefully a video of us leaving will come soon. :D