Okay, lets get one thing straight from the beginning. What tops the UGLY list immediately and without question would be my hair which my five year old described as “old” not understanding that I am trying to grow it a bit so that it can be cut in a decent style today, when I visit the hairdresser! My coiffure is reminiscent of the crown King Julian wears in the Madagascar movies…you parents will know what I am talking about…so while my older daughter asked me if I would be putting up a photo of my hair, I respectfully declined and lied about the camera being full.

my startled look as I plough through laundry jungle to bathroom mirror!

An ugly and bad combined: a big shout out to Cialis and Levitra for choosing to advertise before the watershed!!! NOT! My children and I were in the living room some time after 6:30pm: Little one coloring in, older one reading, Mom being her Crackberry self (actually still trying to figure out how the thing works) when I switched the television on to Charlie Gibson’s “World” news. My eleven (soon soon to be twelve) year old looked up to listen to all that was happening. Then the ads came on and wham bam thank you ma’am, the Cialis ad quickly followed by Levitra. I continued to look at the Blackberry buzzing in my hands for some unknown reason when this young 11 year old voice asked me the question: “Mom, what is an erection?” 

Holy crap…is what I was screaming in my head but calmly looked at her and explained the term. She is eleven, she got what she needed to know from our little discussion. So the talk is starting in baby steps…I am not completely sure how I will be approaching this all – having a tween is a first for me. So it should be an interesting journey to say the least.

Time for a good (or an ugly, depending on your point of view)…With Mother’s day coming up, my youngest is very enthralled by a day just for mommies. She figures she could get in on this action too, after all she is a mommy to eight teddies, four dolls, two penguins and six rocks…However, her main focus has been me…great!

“Mommy, it is going to be Mother’s Day soon…I have decided to give you a make over. I will do your make up and your hair, it looks old. I will also let Daddy buy you a new dress. You need a make over, you look like a maid…”

Now I am trying to see the brighter side of that remark, the only “maid” she knows is pre-FairyGodMother Cinderella…she was pretty in her rags according to the book’s pictures…..?

Last time I wrote on this blog, the candidates were still going hell for leather in their campaigns. Sarah Palin was still gracing us with her gaffs and supplying SNL with great footage. Obama was holding onto a good lead in the polls and while I was hoping he would keep them, I was so wishing for the whole election thing to be over already. I had had enough…enough of negative ads, and especially enough of Elisabeth Hasselbeck shooting her little republican mouth off at any given opportunity (usually at a GOP rally).

The week before Halloween, the Angel Maker took a turn that devastated me. She is one of the bravest persons I know on God’s earth and her zest for life is a lesson we would all do well in learning. I love her dearly and I want to tell her that just one more time.

I got dental pain. I have a crown that I was told in December 2007 that I need to replace in January and although it was always in the back of mind to do, other things always took preference and I never got around to doing it. So I figured that I had better get this ass into a dentist’s chair. I went to the emergency appointment and after enough Novocaine to deaden the mouth of a small elephant, the dentist said, that he could not understand why I was in so much pain, after all, there was little decay and the tooth was not in that bad a shape. I went home with the new temporary crown and enough vicodin to last me the week. The pain got worse. I went back to the dentist the next afternoon to be told that it was blocked sinus and that my teeth, where I was having the pain, were fine. I was put on antibiotics and more painkillers. Nothing helped and after three nights with no sleep, on Sunday I asked Hubby to take me to the ER. Got it all diagnosed there and then. Trigeminal Neuralgia. A nerve pain like no other. Funny that, both the ER doc and my GP turned and told my husband, “People jump off bridges because the pain is so bad!” Really? I AM SITTING RIGHT HERE IN THE ROOM WITH YOU!

So I am off the painkillers and on anti-seizure meds which takes away the pain but leaves me in a bit of daze for now. Apparently, I might get used to it…or not. But now I am having problems with my speech and trust me when I tell you that that is a first. I have NEVER had a problem getting any words out of this mouth. But all is much better than it was…what I have has a name and there is a plan of action.

Halloween was better than I expected. We went Trick or Treating and the girls had great fun dressing up and getting buckets of candy! If bail outs for Wall Street could be done with candy, I reckon AIG would come a-knocking on our door. On the Saturday we had a small Halloween Party at ours and all our guests dressed up and it was great fun. I had no idea what I wanted to be…Hubby was of course the Angry African. I sat looking at my pics from my MRI and decided that a Cat-Scan would be it. Dressed in my best kitty kat outfit armed with a pic of my brain scan on my back, I entertained.

Hubby was in NY for the week and the girls pulled together to make the week easier for Mom. They did a great job and the military operation in our house ran smoothly. All dinner was eaten, dishes washed and children bathed by 7:30pm. Early beds for all and the week went off without a hitch. My landlord came for a visit which produced a little anxiety because we have a cat (sssshhhh…we actually have three) and we got permission for a dog. What is the difference? I think a cat is easier and cleaner anyway. Miss Fifi Petunia is now the official cat because he saw her and I think he liked her (he took a photo of her to show his kids) but the other two (who were feral when we adopted them as kittens) were no where to be seen. So we have one official cat and the other two are Illegal Kitti-grants. I cleaned and tidied the house before he arrived so that everything looked relatively fine for his visit and so now I have a tidy house.

But with all this happening I took a lesson tonight from my youngest. Life is life and you need to roll with the punches and enjoy the sun. Throughout dinner she laughed, she ate all she could (she critiqued my meatballs with the fine tuning although without the swear words as only Gordon Ramsay could), enjoyed her dessert and proceeded to eat more dinner. All the time laughing and enjoying being with the family – dancing in the kitchen to the 80’s music on the radio. So tonight I will go up to bed to find the same things I have found on my bed every night since I got ill: one of my youngest most prized soft toys, a letter, a drawing, a small pillow for my head, three flowers and a necklace she made me. She puts them down every night to brighten my day and make me sleep better so that tomorrow starts on a good footing…

And it will…Obama is President, Sarah Palin has gone back to Alaska, I no longer take vicodin, Hubby is back from NY and today I baked chocolate cupcakes with cream cheese filling.  Things are looking good…

Ingredients:

A whole chicken

1 bottle of marinade (the sweeter the better, it burns better with more sugar)

1 straw hat

A gas grill (no need to check the gas, it is all part of the recipe method)

Crappy weather

Method:

1. Take the chicken out the deepfreeze at 2am that morning, after a dinner party. Assuming that it will defrost by 10am later that morning in time for lunch.
2. At 10am check the chicken. Note that it is still frozen. Try to shove the huge (extra meaty) chicken into the small microwave to defrost, realise it will not fit and return it in the bowl to the kitchen sink and run cold water over it, thinking of course that will work.
3. At 12 noon, attempt to remove the frozen giblets from the cavity of the still frozen bird. Realizing that will not work, accept that roasted chicken lunch will now become roasted chicken dinner.
4. Make cheese sandwiches for lunch.
5. At 2:30pm, go to the local horticultural gardens for a bike ride with family. Admire the flowers, the gardens and the three legged squirrel hobbling across the green grass with a piece of breadroll in its mouth.
6. Return home at 4:00pm and realize that the frigging bird is still frozen and no amount of tap water is going to get it to defrost before 4:30pm.
7. At 5pm listen intently to the Hubby who says that he will BBQ the chicken – “How hard can it be?”
8. Read up on the Internet how to spatchcock a chicken (IE take out the spine and break the breastbone in order to lay it flat on the grill). Remove the spine, but forget to break the breastbone.
9. Marinade the chicken – note that on the bottle it says to leave overnight in the fridge. But seeing as there is not another night left in this weekend, you figure, fifteen minutes on the kitchen counter is just as good.
10. Hubby throws chicken on to grill.
11. Flames reach the heavens while scorching Hubby’s straw hat in the process.
12. Turn chicken frequently (and with difficulty) while the sweet marinade burns and blackens the skin – never mind, call it Cajun.
13. Eventually realize that the breastbone was not broken, so cut chicken into two halves. It is no longer spatchcocked, it is now cocked up.
14. Look to the heavens while the rain clouds spit down on your culinary adventure.
15. Adjust the flames knowing that they are already on their lowest setting.
16. Laugh with wife.
17. Turn the knobs of the grill fruitlessly while the realization hits home that the gas has run out.
18. Wife needs to turn on the oven while placating the children that daddy has NOT burned the chicken but that indeed that is how it is meant to look and that the recipe calls for half the cooking to be done on the grill and half in the oven.
19. Serve with love and embarrassment remembering to remove the incinerated skin first. Divert attention from the meat with attractive Parmesan Broccoli and garlic bread.

[Although the chicken was angrier than the African, the dinner was delicious but this is a once in a life time recipe, it self destructs as you go along!]

Incinerated Chicken on the grill

Incinerated Chicken on the plate

Well, I have put Monday in the recylcing bin and I have raised myself from the floor and dusted myself off…ready to face the rest of the week. A week busy with school starting again for my eldest daughter after twelve weeks of summer vacation. A week busy with my youngest baby starting kindergarten – a day that will bring tears to my eyes, joy to my heart and a previously unknown quiet in my house in the morning…

So while things are chaotic in the run up to the big day, I just sit back and smile at my job because I know I have the best job in the world…

Quit Complaining...it could be worse

Roseanne Barr on top form...

These last few days I have had Mad Cow Disease. And if you know me, you KNOW, do not pick a fight with me now or say stupid things that are going to piss me off. Not if you value YOUR sanity and peace of mind.

So let’s see what has pissed me off in the last few days. Yesterday I read that Roseanne Barr took a dig, no sorry, let me rephrase that, broadsided/viciously attacked Jon Voight, Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt and their children, on her blog, Roseanne’s World. From the start, let me tell you that I have been an on-again, off-again “fan” (I use the term loosely) of Roseanne Barr. She laid into Jon Voight and called Angelina “evil spawn”, Brad “vacuous” and their children “dunces”. She pronounced that they only give $3 million to charity as though to show that “they give a crap”. Now I am not fond of celebs especially those who are cause celebs for the sake of PR. But I ask you Roseanne, where were you that Christmas day when Angelina and Brad helped out at a shelter in a Central Americancountry – no doubt stuffing your face with the food you can afford with the money you make. Or maybe that is your problem – your little well of riches running dry? So the program you had on television about one of the most dysfunctional, overweight and disrespectful families is no longer paying dividends. That family might have been fictional, but you, Roseanne seemed to fit right in – like a duck to water. And answer this, Roseanne, how much have you given to charity?

While bitching that Angelina Jolie has not endorsed any one candidate yet, has raised some eyebrows considering her known liberal tendencies, blasting her for not doing so is a case of the pot calling the kettle black – in Roseanne’s case. Do we announce our support so that we can say we did so – I see on her blog, Roseanne is selling Gore/Edwards T-shirts – the best ticket in her mind. Ah, yes, lets support an adulterer. That is so much better than not having yet endorsed someone. If Roseanne was giving away those T-shirts free, I would not wear one that supports a man who cheated on his wife while she was suffering from cancer – using her illness to get a sympathy vote – and Angelina is evil?

Say then what you will about grown ups – but where does Roseanne get off calling the kids dunces? I am sure that all good parents think the same – say what you will about me, but don’t touch my kids. Pick on someone your own size! Oh and I am sure Obama loves being supported by a crazy woman who picks on children. Gees, and I thought I was a mad cow! But at least I don’t have methane gas emanating from my mouth…

Today was my youngest child’s birthday. She is a whole five years old…FIVE! She is my baby girl…and I can not believe that she is starting kindergarten this Fall. She is such a big girl and yet she is still so small. But the diva in her was well and truly in residence today – not in a bad way. “I am the birthday princess today!” was the most used statement. Those were the first words out of her mouth this morning when she groggily opened her eyes. She said it again with a smile when she walked down the stairs and saw the presents in the living room and the huge helium singing Disney princesses balloon. That is the day she wanted – a day of Disney Princesses. All of them: Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Belle, Snow White, Jasmine (her favorite) and Ariel. Birthday Princess was just a little upset though that Mulan was not included in the princess lineup. Not my fault that one and probably a topic for a whole other blog.

So Hubby took the day off from work to spend it with the family. Talking of family, our immediate family is thousands of miles away and so we have to go the extra mile to make days like birthdays a little more special – to be honest though, even if the family were living next door, we would still go that extra mile! The girls had their swimming lessons today and Hubby went with to watch. Oh my goodness, the girls swam like dolphins, showing off all their learned aquatic skills to the proud father standing broad chested on the shore of the pond.

Swimming was followed by an unprecedented week day hour or so of Wii. At this stage mom retired to the master boudoir complete with eye mask and ear plugs and rested for a while. We went after my nap to Birthday Princess’s daycare for her party there. She was joined by two former students, my eldest and the Hubby. We had cake and juice and then it happened. I have heard rumors of this happening before but have never witnessed it with my own eyes and today I had that experience. But first, the cake was delicious – vanilla cake decorated to perfection complete with the Disney Princesses dancing around the frosting between the gorgeous edible flowers (Mulan was missing again – do I see a pattern here?)

And then it happened…

C.I.H.

Cake Induced Hysteria…

Symptoms: 

• running giggling uncontrollably around the tree
• running laughing playing catch
• running chuckling during a game of duck duck goose
• waving gymnastic ribbons in a frenzied run around the lawn

Something interesting though…the symptoms affect all people of different ages. The kids were between the ages of 2 and 11 but there was one grown up who was wildly affected: Hubby…

Hubby ran with the ribbons…did his best to imitate the Olympic gymnasts who will wow us all in a few days…he grabbed the little flags and “flew” across the yard…that action even made the Blue Jays sit up and take notice…oh the acts he whipped out were many and varied…helicopters (he lifted himself off the ground much to the delight of the children) – I can not even remember all them. All of them induced by cake!

The girls sat down to dinner tonight and we did the usual questioning: what was your favorite part of your day?

Birthday Princess went first: “Opening Presents and daddy coming to watch my swimming!”

Eldest daughter was next: “Birthday Princess waking me up this morning so that she could get to her presents and dad coming to watch my swimming!”

Then Hubby: “Watching the girls swimming and playing outside in the garden with the girls and their friends during the afternoon party…”

And me? My favorite part of the day…it is difficult to decide but probably two bits. One was watching the Princess’s face as she opened her presents from all around the world. And second…Hubby playing in the backyard…Today let me tell you, there was nothing angry in this African!

…but not buses that you would think…not the public transport buses…not the red double decker buses I  so loved to see in London…not the yellow school buses…Not those buses – those are just fine. Except of course for that one red double decker in London that soaked me by deliberatelydriving through a puddle at the side of the road causing a tidal wave of grimy city street water covering me and my white trousers one summer…yes…Mr bus driver…your laughing face I will never forget.

But aside from that bus, I have no other qualms about buses. Except that one illusive bus that seems to target one place and only make one dramatic stop…my house. I try to keep my house clean and tidy…I really do try but just when I think I am winning the battle this bus stops by when I am not looking and delivers a blow to my house equivalent to a small atomic bomb. I have gone from clear dining room and clean table to a paperwork nightmare. I work through the paperwork and find foam stickers all over the phone bill and a little stick princess drawn neatly in pink and purple on the car insurance document.

So I went downstairs to the playroom in the basement. I thought that this past weekend I would spend some time, a few hours or so, cleaning up and sorting out our own branch of Toys ‘r’ us. Everything back in its own container. I was doing well. Some of the toys were sorted and we made a pile for charity and a pile for keeping and the pile for disposal. I moved containers and vacuumed. And then while sweating in the humidity of the day I moved this little container in the very far corner of the basement…the one section where there is no carpet and there it was…staring at me from the dark corner…I could hear it laughing at me while the music that filled my ears was reminiscent of the Bates Motel. Mould…yip I said it. MOULD! I stepped back gasping for air. OMG I have NEVER had mould in my house but I was armed. I marched upstairs and grabbed my spray bottle of bleach.

M (I can’t bring myself to say the word anymore) was waiting for me at the OK Corral laughing at me as I slowly walked forward my eyes fixed on its little green spores which my by now X-ray vision could see in the dark. I flicked the switch on my torchlight and made contact with the dark monster which squirmed in the bright beam. My palm was sweaty as I reached for my weapon. I lifted the bottle and pushed back the trigger. M was no match for me…I drenched it and then waited patiently for the small spot to dry. The next step was my trusty hepa filter vacuum dream machine which made M shake in fear as it was sucked into the sealed container and disposed of.

“I’ll be your Huckleberry!”

Confident in my ability, this Wyatt Earp slowly walked through the rest of the room and found no more. Clearly my reputation preceded me. Harriet had then phoned me about an unrelated topic (her almost six year is getting a BIG tooth!) and upon hearing my story offered some more heavy weapons in my battle. About three hours later I plugged the dehumidifier into the wall and fired it up. No more humidity! What a relief. The machine worked long and hard all night and by morning, the playroom was a totally different place – mould free and clean smelling and DRY!

Of course, that took care of the green bus downstairs but oh the first floor was hit today and with a force! The devastation was widespread – as far as the eye can see. A broad path of destruction that when I looked again had moved upstairs like a stealth hurricane…

So tomorrow is my daughter’s fifth birthday but I will NOT allow her to have a birthday in an untidy house. So wish me luck as I venture off and tackle this horror…oh the horror! I might not be as skilled as Martha Stewart (or an employer of many staff like her) but I can sure as bob dismantle a bus in my sleep…

  Now that is the kind of bucket I am talking about!

I turned 38 last week. Thirty-eight! I have since had a chance to reflect on my somewhat superficial and partly unattainable bucket list published earlier. Let me revise and summarise:

1. Drink champagne in Luxembourg.  Can actually check this off. Although I want to do it again (and planning to spend my 40th birthday in Luxies), I have done so twice already.

2. Go on another African safari. Basically the same as number 1. Have done it before, want to do it again (with a bit more luxury) but can check it off.

3. Learn to ski in Bamff. Seeing as I now have not one but two bum knees, apparently I have to shelve learning to ski or snowboard. But I still want to go to Bamff.

4. Have a (bit) part in the stage production of Grease. Who the hell am I trying to kid or impress here. I can’t sing to save a canary and can barely dance anymore (at one stage I could, you know!) so let us just scrap this completely…

5. See all my friends and family from around the world in one place at one time for a big party! This one is not completely do-able. I can see my friends and family and have a party but not all at once. So I will amend this to friends/family for the party, preferably both groups but different times and different parties will be fine.

6. Live in Tuscany. Ah, a dream for sure and one that I will just have to keep dreaming…if it never comes true…the idea of living in Tuscany will be enough to keep me going…

7. Balance my check book! AH HA! Check that off big time. Did it not once but twice so the first time was not a fluke!

8. Learn to surf (I know, I will have to overcome my fear of the ocean and sharks first!) Okay pal, forget that – with the news around of shark attacks and that video footage of the surfer desperately paddling away from a shark, this item on the bucket list is a gonner!

9. Learn to cook authentic Italian food. I have learned to cook about four dishes so on my way there – consider it checked…

10. Have a dinner party at home with John Travolta, Rubi Wax, Graham Norton, Bill and Hillary and John McEnroe as my guests (of course I would either cook my authentic Italian food or get a caterer!). Hey, no one can say I am not a dreamer – dreams are good you know – it is like a movie in your head…but lets face it…ain’t never going to happen!

11. Leave a legacy for my children… working on this one but it is top secret and I will not divulge anything yet…check back in three years or maybe thirty!

So I still have to think if I am going to add anything more and will write a completely revised list but frankly I am not in the mood for a bucket list but I have another list I think I want to write… it is my F%$#@* List (rhymes with bucket you idiot!). So here goes!

My F*&^#$ List:

1. I am not going to iron anymore unless it is something someone wants to wear now and it comes off the hanger or shelf creased! Life is too short to spend it behind an iron!

2. I will no longer give two hoots about the fact that my boobs now seem to be quite at home around my waistline! Bras are there for a reason and that is to uplift me every day. Hubby loves me and as long as he does not mind it will not matter (but you won’t catch me going to any topless beaches!).

3. No longer will I be concerned about doing housework on a weekend…that is my day job during the week and I will not take my work home with me on weekends!

4. I will go to my ballet class once a week and dance with the fifteen and sixteen year olds in the class and not worry what they think of the old duck at the barre with them. What I have forgotten they have yet to learn and while I can no longer jete across the room or do a triple pirouette, I know that once, twenty years ago, I could do it.

5. Scooping litter is a thing of the past. I have bought an automatic litter scoop and now will sit back and watch the scoop do the poop! The cats are thankful too – it scoops every ten minutes or so!

6. As summer draws to a close, I have only but a few weeks left to get over another obstacle…it is time to walk from the beach chair to the water’s edge proudly to go for swim and not try to cover up until my shoulders are submerged under water – which makes for a tricky task keeping the towel dry! If you don’t like what you see, stop looking!

7. I will not mope about not seeing the last Bon Jovi concert or stress about wanting tickets for another…dancing around in the kitchen on a Saturday morning to “You give love a bad name” in my PJ’s is enough for me!

8. Lastly (for now) another thing about housework…instead of trying to be supermom and supermaid all rolled into one neat little stress ball, I will deligate more…

There you have it…my bucket and f*&^$# list…all rolled into one…oh bollocks…have to iron Hubby’s shirt before work tomorrow!

Forgive me Father reader for I have sinned lapsed. It has been three weeks since my last confession blog entry…

It has been hectic these last three weeks. We went away to Pennsylvania for a weeks vacation and the week prior to leaving was busy. We had swimming lessons, sorting out the basement, getting the cats sorted and getting all our stuff ready for our road trip. We left the Sunday morning two hours behind our schedule but we did not care – we were on holiday! That is the first great thing about a road trip – we had no deadlines – no having to be at the airport at a certain time, no rushing along making tensions rise and making the trip unpleasant for all and sundry. The girls were excited and although the trip was going to be long…they did not care in the slightest – we were going on holiday!

In order to make the trip easier for all of us, we borrowed the portable DVD player from Harriet and it was a wonderful rescue. We only needed it about four hours into our trip when the young one was finding number plate spotting a little boring. We knew she had stuck it out as long as she could, when she said, “I am trying Mom but it is difficult if you can’t read!” So she chose a movie and settled back into her booster seat for the remaining bit of her trip. The eldest daughter was clearly thrilled with getting 28 different states in the trip down to Pennsylvania.

We stayed in a small town called Riegelsville – an small it was. There is one traffic light, one general store, a hotel, and antique dealer and a post office. We had no TV, no phones and strictly speaking no Internet. Actually I became a bit of cyber squatter – someone in the area had a wireless Internet connection and at about 10pm every night, I would log on, download my photos, email my family and log off. So no time to blog and besides, I was on holiday and so was my brain.

We spent a wonderful five days in Bucks County. We explored small towns, ate out at lunch and dinner times, we played games, the kids played in the garden – we laughed, never cried and laughed some more. I saw the happiness in my children’s eyes that we so often miss in the hectic running of our daily lives. Our lives are so hectic that we forget to sit back and listen for the laughter. Even being on summer break at home, we have schedules – orthodontist appointments, swimming lessons, camp, doctor appointments, grocery shopping, waking up at a specific time – the kids laughed and played and for five wonderful days were free of time limits and boundaries and they loved every minute of it. Now, don’t get me wrong, loose routines are things I firmly believe in so that we can have control over our lives but just for one week, it was just spectacular not to set an alarm clock, not to have to worry about being some where on time. We were in control.

So we visited Easton, Frenchtown, Milford, Lambertville, New Hope and of course, Philadelphia! We saw Independence Hall (impressive for us foreigners!), the Liberty Bell, took a horse and coach ride through the streets and, my personal favorite, the Museum of Art. Not just for the Art – I had a more important mission in mind. I WENT UP THE ROCKY STEPS! I watched Rocky I in 1979 when it finally hit the shores of South Africa and watched every Rocky movie since. But that scene in the first one when he runs up those stairs is just one of those iconic moments in movie history. At the bottom of the steps, there is the bronze statue from the movie – erected in all honor as though Rocky Balboa was indeed a real person – a real son of Philly. Now tell me, in your travels, how many bronze statues are up in cities and towns of a fictional character in a movie – would be interesting to know that!

I turned 38 in Pennsylvania and being there with my family was the best present I ever could have asked for. My husband and my children were bugging me about getting me a present and right up until the day, I kept on saying “I have got everything I ever wanted…right here in this week.” To me, it was one of the best weeks of my life ever…

Our road trip home was eventful because we took the scenic route. It added about six hours onto our travel time but the girls were having a blast in the back of the car. We got home at 8pm, ate some dinner and got into bed – so sad for being back in the hustle and bustle of our lives but happy for the rejuvenation that we all experienced – Hubby and both the kiddies – even the four year old!

But on my trip, I learned that cancer had returned to a dear friend of mine and this time it is a bit worse than it was before. My family were lying sound asleep upstairs and I sat watching the sun rising over the fields and thanked God about lucky I was. I had just finished reading the Last Lecture and I think the knowledge I gained from the book and the experience of the week away, has really given me a different perspective. My heart was broken when I heard on Saturday morning that Randy Pausch had died – someone who had touched the lives of so many he did not know, and I cried for someone I had never met.

So we had two quiet days at home and today we hit the ground running again…and tomorrow we will again be caught up in all we have to do but somehow it feels a little different and everything just seems a little less urgent…

This summer is turning out to be everything I did not expect it to be. I thought we were going to have a quiet 12 weeks. Actually, I was worried that we were going to have a quiet 12 weeks. My older daughter is doing film camp towards the end of the month; we are going to Pennsylvania next Monday for a week – a break I am really looking forward to. No phones, no schedules and no televisions – although i am not too sure if my kids are going to fall for this part of the vacation. But I am willing to buy them off with a visit to the Crayola factory and maybe a trip to the zoo!

But back to what has been happening since we went on our break. I signed the girls up for swimming lessons at the pond. It is the most cost effective value for money swimming lessons I have ever come across. The instructors are all super with the kids of all ages, and both my girls look forward to learning the tricks of being bouyant in the water. My youngest has her lesson at 10am and my eldest has her lesson at 11am. We arrive at 10am and set up camp for the morning. Put out mom’s beach chair, lay out the towels, and put on swimming goggles. My younger angel runs to the instructor and then plunges into the water showing no signs of the fear that gripped her earlier in the season. When her lesson is over, my elder daughter and I take her back to her daycare (which is currently like camp). We leave our chair and towels there so that when we return for the next swimming lesson, we still have our little spot in the shade.

There is one big tree that provides shade all morning until about 1:30pm. A spot in the shade is at a premium by 11am so if you can get there when we do and secure your spot, you are set. Because swimming lessons run for three weeks, the same moms and dads arrive every day at the same times to bring their young ones to learn to swim. Like me, many use the lessons as “time at the beach” which lets the young ones enjoy being in the water under the supervision of a well qualified instructor (you see, I am no big swimmer and it has to be REALLY hot for me to actually get in!). Everyday we greet each other politely when we arrive when the gates open for lessons (the swimming public are only allowed in a half hour later) – each of us knowing where our regular spot is and where everyone else sits.

And what from the road running by looks like moms and dads sitting on the beach watching their children swim, has practically taken on a life of its own.

There is “Don’t touch the baby” Mom who herds around her children (especially the youngest daughter) so that other children can’t touch them. I actually overheard her tell her son not to play with the sandcastles another child built – complete with bridges – because “…you don’t know who built them and where they have been!”

“I need public recognition” Mom is there too. Everything she says to her kids is extra loud so that we can hear everything. “Yes, darling, of course you can have your organic, fair trade, local farmer’s market strawberries, while I eat my organically grown whole wheat pasta salad with sprouts,” she enunciates while frowning heavily at “I don’t need sun protection” singed mom who is scoffing nibbling on her M&M ice cream while her son downs a soda in almost one swoop.

There is “silence is golden” dad who has not said one word to his little boy that has not come out as a whisper. Mind you, he is rather good looking and well built so we don’t need him to talk. I saw “Don’t touch the baby” Mom give him the once over when he planted his towel and bag in the middle of us. Brave man! Another dad arrives – I think of him as “ultimate sunblock 500″ – I think he uses about one can of sprayable sunblock a day. With the layers he puts on himself (and I assume his children too), they must be protected to the hilt. I sunblock my children too with nothing less than 75, but layered to the point of your skin actually turning blue, is taking it a little too far. I make sure that if I arrive before him I am not sitting downwind…that spraying sunblock can sure travel…

Me? I sit on my beach chair reading “The Last Lecture” drinking my water quietly while I watch my children frolic. I occasionally arise and go stand in the water, chat to one of the other moms I do know and when my eldest daughter is done, just before we leave for the day, we go and buy some slush. I am sure though that in the other parents’ minds I too must be an oddball. “She speaks funny and sits all day” Mom – that’s me!

An tomorrow this beach bee-itch will be back, in my usual spot, looking for the usual suspects…