tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76754119148073064692024-03-14T09:55:38.506-04:00Chey'sA family blog. With margaritas.Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.comBlogger221125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-22571434612751315072012-05-24T09:25:00.000-04:002012-05-24T09:25:38.539-04:00Spring!!I've said it before and I'll say it again, Spring is my favorite time of year! Watching the world around you come to life day by day reminds me to wake up and find my new beginnings, blue skies, and a spot of sunshine to call my own. :)<br />
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My girls are growing and changing every day and face each new change with open hearts...what more can I ask for?<br />
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Last night, Abby passed that milestone that we all dread........that's right, she got a phone! All day she waited for that trip to the store for the big purchase.<br />
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The doors of Best Buy opened with a "Whoooosh" of air and she stopped, touched my arm and sniffed.<br />
"Do you smell that, Mommy? It smells like responsibility.....and phones."<br />
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We all age, change, grow. And if we're really really lucky, wishes do come trueCheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-14735854056419907342011-10-27T23:23:00.001-04:002011-10-27T23:30:30.417-04:00PromisesPromises are facinating, magical things. Some people dole them out like candy on Halloween and think nothing of taking them back. Others, like me, tend to hoard them. Not because we don't want to give them, but because we know their true worth, the <em>value</em> of a real promise is incalculable. For someone that believes in promises, it is hurtful to not keep them. <br />
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I broke two promises last week.<br />
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The first promise was one that I made 16 years ago. It hurt a lot of people when I broke that promise and I am enternally sorry for that, and I hope that someday they will see it as I did, a promise that was being kept at a terrible cost.<br />
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The seond promise I made less than a year ago. It hurt to break it... god did it hurt. I hope someday it will be understood that the intent behind the promise was made whole-heartedly, the most perfect promise I could give, but in keeping it, I chained myself to a life that could never be mine. In keeping that promise, I only hurt myself.<br />
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Promises, like space, and time, are strange.Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-90679678966427084702011-09-14T21:22:00.000-04:002011-09-14T21:22:30.351-04:00Open House and an Epic FAILThis morning, as I dropped Abby off at the school, she turned to me, green eyes shining in the morning light, smile as bright as can be, blew me a kiss and said, "Oh, Mom, the School's Open House is tonight. Bye!"<br />
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I watched her bounce away as I mentally rearranged our evening to attend the Open House. <br />
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Today, picking her up from school...<br />
<br />
"I'm really looking forward to meeting your teacher and seeing your classroom."<br />
"Yeah, we don't need to stay for the Presentation, though."<br />
"What? Why not? I like hearing about the class plans for the year...."<br />
"No, it's okay. I told Mrs. Sandburg that you wouldn't be staying for the Presentation."<br />
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Blank look. Crickets chirping.<br />
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"Why would you say that? You know I always enjoy the Presentations!"<br />
"No, you think they're boring. Last year you completely phased out."<br />
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more crickets...<br />
<br />
"Baby, it wasn't <em>me </em>who almost fell asleep during the presentation last year."<br />
"Oh, right. That was Daddy. Oh well."<br />
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I stared at her, almost laughing, until it occurred to me...<br />
<br />
"Baby, did you tell your teacher <em>why</em> you thought I wasn't going to stay for the presentation?"<br />
"Yeah, I told her you thought they were boring."Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-73758145531303154382011-09-06T22:40:00.000-04:002011-09-06T22:40:01.370-04:00Back to School, One Last Fair, and Opening Your EyesMy baby is a Kindergartner!! Eve was ready, LL Bean backpack slung, pink plaid dress perfectly pressed and a good night's sleep behind her. My incredible, wonderful, amazing 5 year old heading off to the first year of many in her world. I think it was easier for her that she was able to ride the bus with her big sister, making the cavernous vehicle not-so-scary.<br />
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Abby has, for the first time ever, given over from the time honored tradition of a skirt for the first day of school. My girl has gone to the "cool" side and wore what I would normally consider "hanging out" clothes... a t-shirt and shorts with sneakers.<br />
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This year, for the first time, the dogs didn't accompany the girls to the bus.... the last dog passed away in the Spring and no one has had the heart to bring a new puppy to the house. Back to school pictures without the dogs... strange times. <br />
None so strange as the fact that I am not living at my house anymore.... I drove back there to take the Back to School photos for continuity and family tradition. Most days I'll be driving the girls to school. I'm still trying to get used to the fact that my home is not my home. I imagine it's going to take a while, with everything in flux.<br />
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Our last day of summer was spent at the Woodstock Fair... cows, horses, draft pulling contests, bunnies, rides, fair food and the company of great friends. I can't ask for more than that. :)<br />
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Tonight I'm finally slowing down after getting the kids settled from their "first big day of school" and getting a bit of time to catch up and watch a movie. The selection is "Star Dust."<br />
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Star Dust is written by Neil Gaimon, who is an author that I've actually quoted on this blog before. I love his work, tho occasionally the dark side of it can be a bit disturbing. <a href="http://www.endicott-studio.com/cofhs/cofinstr.html">Neil Gaimon's Instructions</a><br />
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One of my favorite quotes from Star Dust reminds me of that moment when you kiss someone, not just anyone, but that one perfect person. The person for whom you open your eyes to <em>see</em> them as you kiss. And that moment, that very moment, they open their eyes too. And all of the love and all of the passion is staring right back at you, and there is no coming back from that... that seeing into another person's heart and soul.<br />
Great moment captured by Neil... makes me want to ask him, who was she? And did he cross the wall for her?<br />
<br />
<em>"They kissed for the first time then in the cold spring rain, though neither one of them now knew that it was raining. Tristran's heart pounded in his chest as if it was not big enough to contain all the joy that it held. He opened his eyes as he kissed the star. Her sky-blue eyes stared back into his, and in her eyes he could see no parting from her." </em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>— Neil Gaiman (Stardust) </em><br />
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Pictures of the kids and the fair forthcoming... too tired to load them up tonight... But peace and good dreams to all the parents who bravely brought their babies to school this week, and to those that relished in the tradition of crisp, blue Fall Fairs, and to anyone who has looked into the heart of the person they're kissing and gotten lost, blissfullyCheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-2556327863493142042011-08-29T23:59:00.000-04:002011-08-29T23:59:01.445-04:00NothingI remember a song from "chorus line" where Morales sung that, much to her utter dismay, she felt nothing.<br />
I reached out today to help someone I've loved and felt... Nothing.<br />
A sad song... A sadder feeling. <br />
<br />
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So many roadblocks are in place right now on the roads and we're living in darkness from the storm. It's one thing to live it. It's another to feel it. How very very sad when a storm hits and hurts so close to home. And then it's just nothing.<br />
<br />
Moving on gets easier and harder. Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-88064259882297121592011-08-24T00:07:00.000-04:002011-08-24T00:07:33.232-04:00Shaken, Not StirredShaken. Not Stired.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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My business trips to my client site are generally busy, often exciting and sometimes just plain exhilarating. I love being in the thick of things. When I’m travelling for business, I usually post my status as “being in the Lion’s den.” It is always a challenge and a thrill to be in front of my clients because, lets face it, I’m a computer geek at heart. I love being in front of my computer and listening to music....as much as everyone likes to put me on the front lines with clients, its not my comfort zone, so when I have to do it, it is a challenge. <br />
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I joke with my teammates that every trip has “the story….” And this one is a doozy! <br />
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Me, 26th floor of the Financial Plaza in Jersey City, on a conference call with a SC teammate……..<br />
<br />
“Hold on, the building is shaking…”<br />
<br />
“What?”<br />
<br />
“The building is shaking. What the hell? I can’t work like this!”<br />
<br />
“The building is shaking?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah……..wait, no really, it is……people are running… I think I have to go”<br />
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That is, verbatim, the call I had with my teammate. Being from small town CT, high rise buildings aren’t exactly everyday life, so a shaking building seems slightly plausible to me and an irritating disruption to my work… it wasn’t until I saw people bookin’ out the doors until I realized it was not “Big City Norm.” <br />
<br />
Of course everyone was allright and survived the earthquake. I admit I was a bit confused by it all and briefly considered cannabalism if necessary for survival. :)<br />
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I have a greater understanding of what it feels like to sway like the top of the tallest oak tree and thank God that your kids are far away and safe. <br />
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Cell phones didn’t work. Calls went out to nothing…… only TXT messaging had any results. By the time I reached the ground I had txt messages from some of the people I loved the most, checking in that I was okay. All was well. Shaken, not stirred.<br />
<br />
Okay, stirred. A little bit. <br />
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Now I’m back at my hotel, happily in my jammies and blogging for the memory of the 5.9 quake that covered the East Coast.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirW-Yc6LbeNW7dhPtUZqAce4SjULC2BYv1HfaLRUOjdrM5hXIusbjxShUkn4bGhAbgYowL-cJy6mjmb1_BqiLQ7OyqLZ9J0H92TMXXELraD65N28yaC192UyqTeuYNoUPosg5OrYMW5bQ0/s1600/Mary+at+Torus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirW-Yc6LbeNW7dhPtUZqAce4SjULC2BYv1HfaLRUOjdrM5hXIusbjxShUkn4bGhAbgYowL-cJy6mjmb1_BqiLQ7OyqLZ9J0H92TMXXELraD65N28yaC192UyqTeuYNoUPosg5OrYMW5bQ0/s320/Mary+at+Torus.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-56796864100666032122011-08-09T23:42:00.000-04:002011-08-09T23:42:36.603-04:00Eve turns 5 tomorrow!!!! <span style="font-family: Calibri;">My baby is turning 5 today!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>FIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZWnBTxYpOv0NHqWW5N9e5MDCC0uT6seHhbHIxbRIZw5uJIl-P6XGUpfnUHlGvn0fDYsuL34mUEly0g_c4UmhgSyLXEtphPehrobS5PCqiMHSzqUW8fGUnpy5MojVRVeKt2EawZGPjnL4z/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZWnBTxYpOv0NHqWW5N9e5MDCC0uT6seHhbHIxbRIZw5uJIl-P6XGUpfnUHlGvn0fDYsuL34mUEly0g_c4UmhgSyLXEtphPehrobS5PCqiMHSzqUW8fGUnpy5MojVRVeKt2EawZGPjnL4z/s320/photo.JPG" width="212" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The following statements show she is ready:</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I’m ready for Kindergarten.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can count.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know all my letters and sounds and shapes and I can write them all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not a problem, mom”</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“It is going to be hard though, with all the boys loving me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The boys always love me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its because I’m so cute, isn’t it?”</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“The bus looks cool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But is it dirty?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do I need wipes?”</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">She is ready for the Day Care Party, the Home Party, and the “Super Friend” party.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am doubtful that I’m ready for any of these things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My baby is 5.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So smart and talented and amazing that it takes me breath away.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Happy Birthday, Beautiful Girl!!!!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3KDOD46ncGr1zFftwJjaGODbmjSES2WlrstmSTXiRiJhUmtI61c-NkCOWtmVZ2jCaVIeTIvukJubeGZiwzWxADWrVYCP5guUdXV_RqNvGL67_7ib2YTjY9zrM02l5qbU-2CdEn_JYT-_/s1600/Names+in+Sand.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3KDOD46ncGr1zFftwJjaGODbmjSES2WlrstmSTXiRiJhUmtI61c-NkCOWtmVZ2jCaVIeTIvukJubeGZiwzWxADWrVYCP5guUdXV_RqNvGL67_7ib2YTjY9zrM02l5qbU-2CdEn_JYT-_/s320/Names+in+Sand.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-30391293171460769152011-08-04T01:27:00.000-04:002011-08-04T01:27:45.903-04:00Winning, with Special Appearance by the Spacemonkeys<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Vacation has started!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I haven’t had a real break from work in about 10 months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That isn’t an exaggeration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The last time I took a week off of work was September 2010.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love the company I work for and the people I work with, I love my clients and the work that I do… but I am so ready for a little time off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And its been pretty wonderful.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The strange thing is that I had a hard time logging off at the end of the final day at work, letting go of the stewardship of my job.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seriously, if a person has that hard a time going on vacation, it means they REALLY need one!</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">My last conversation with a coworker before I left was about winning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The exact comment was….<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">“I don’t know what winning is anymore.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Since it was about 15 minutes before my vacation was about to start, I wisely said, “That will have to be a blog post after I think about it for a while.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So my first four hours of vacation was dinner out with Eve, to the playscape, haircuts, and, after putting her to bed, a nice glass of wine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, on to some thinking and research on Winning, since I’m not sure what it is anymore…</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Since I first wrote some of this, we have been to the amusement park, the beach, swimming, the Vineyard and just generally relaxing and being us girls..... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Now on with Winning:</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Definition 1: Winning:<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><em>Gaining, resulting in, or relating to victory in a contest or competition<o:p></o:p></em></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I’m not in competition with anyone other than myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, seriously, am I always trying to beat me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If so, no wonder I’m confused, you can’t win when you fight yourself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it does always make you better! </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Definition 2: Win:<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><em><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An individual victory; To conquer, defeat; To achieve victory in (a game, a war, etc);</em> <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I have no desire to conquer or defeat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you believe you’ve achieved such a thing, you’re foolish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s just a temporary illusion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one wins in war and games are only games until they’ve played themselves out. But the game, oh the game!! Solving problems, managing projects that can't be managed, answering questions that have others cant...... I live for that! Victory over a person, no thanks. Not interested.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Definition 3: Win:<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><em>To obtain something that is wanted<o:p></o:p></em></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I want a lot of things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Happiness and health for my kids is the first thing I have ever wished for, the thing I want the most, but I can’t obtain it, or win it, only work towards it and hope for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are things that I want for me, selfishly and adamantly, but they aren’t always the things that are best for the people that I love, so the things I want are pushed to the side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> But I pray that they find happiness and peace.</span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Definition 4: WIN (Wireless Intelligent Network)) Transaction processing infrastructure for wireless systems</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Arial;"><em>Um, sure.</em></span><br />
</div>Definition 5: Winning: Waking up free, the William Wallace way. FREEDOM!!!!<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><em>Yeah. That I believe in. If you've never felt that way, it's just a movie line.</em></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So what is winning? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is it making the people that I love happy? Maybe... but with all things important, the path to getting there is difficult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like a good friend says, “The sacrifices now will be worth it in the future.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I hope I’m winning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’m still not sure what it is, exactly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">On some days I’m Superwoman, ruling the entire world around me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On other days, I’m just a girl…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(insert Julia Roberts moment here)<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">*************************There are these amazing things that I call SpaceMonkeys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They spin filters…. Not a lot of them and not very well, but they are occasionally effective. So shout out and "Thank you, SpaceMonkeys," for the separation of interests this evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-35100221367945529042011-07-28T23:42:00.001-04:002011-07-28T23:42:42.349-04:00LyricsThere are many days and nights when I can glide by songs and lyrics and not listen to them.. This is not one of those nights.... This is a song I've heard a thousand times, but until I looked at the lyrics, I didn't truly feel it. Don't stop now. I've lost my place. I'm close behind. <br />
Words to live and die by......... <br />
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<strong>Collide lyrics</strong><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><small><strong>Songwriters:</strong> Griffin, Kevin; Day, Howie;</small><br />
</span>The dawn is breaking<br />
A light shining through<br />
You're barely waking<br />
And I'm tangled up in you, yeah<br />
<br />
I'm open, you're closed<br />
Where I follow, you'll go<br />
I worry I won't see your face<br />
Light up again<br />
<br />
Even the best fall down sometimes<br />
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme<br />
Out of the doubt that fills my mind<br />
I somehow find you and I collide<br />
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I'm quiet you know<br />
You make a first impression<br />
I've found I'm scared to know<br />
{ From: http://www.elyrics.net/read/h/howie-day-lyrics/collide-lyrics.html }<br />
I'm always on your mind<br />
<br />
Even the best fall down sometimes<br />
Even the stars refuse to shine<br />
Out of the back you fall in time<br />
I somehow find you and I collide<br />
<br />
Don't stop here<br />
I lost my place<br />
I'm close behind<br />
<br />
Even the best fall down sometimes<br />
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme<br />
Out of the doubt that fills your mind<br />
You finally find you and I collide<br />
<br />
You finally find you and I collide<br />
You finally find you and I collide<br />
<br />
I see it I see it<br />
I've tried not to be it<br />
I run away from you to0 much<br />
It seems that's all I do<br />
<br />
Back at your door<br />
Into your arms on your floor<br />
I run away and I collide<br />
<br />
I give upCheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-81572040210156250102011-07-13T13:33:00.000-04:002011-07-13T13:33:03.890-04:00DiveInteresting how a body can be so tightly wired and wound that you don’t even realize how exhausting it is until the moment it comes undone and you’re left wondering how it happened in the first place.<br />
<br />
<br />
I’m a swimmer. I am at home in the water. From the moment the pool is open or the ocean is near, I swim. For the girls and I it is our summer playground, but this winter the pool was almost destroyed…. 5 feet of snow displaced the water down the liner and collapsed in on itself. I complained every day since June 1st that I didn't have my pool. It was a passing crankiness that I was too busy to focus on.<br />
<br />
So for the first half of summer I stared at the husk of the pool and then just as it was replaced/fixed and perfect, I was on my way out for business in Jersey City. 4 nights in Jersey …… and in the back of my mind I’m thinking of swimming. Diving. PLAYING. I promised myself that I would swim the second I got back home…no matter what.<br />
<br />
Alas, a series of unfortunate traffic and weather events didn’t land me back home until after 9:00 at night on Friday. It was cold and raining. But I keep my promises.<br />
<br />
<strong>Left the luggage in the car. </strong><br />
<strong><br />
</strong><br />
<strong>Walked to the pool. </strong><br />
<strong><br />
</strong><br />
<strong>Hopped the fence. </strong><br />
<strong><br />
</strong><br />
<strong>Jumped in.</strong><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And in the moment I sliced through rain and into the water itself, I realized that I what I had complained about as an irritating inconvenience was actually something that I needed. All that tension and frantic energy just peeled away and let go. And I swam.<br />
<br />
The girls and I spent the entire weekend in the pool.. and I suspect that’s where we’ll be again. The pool, the barn, riding, then back to the pool. Then maybe riding again. Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-26908088039763928942011-07-03T23:56:00.000-04:002011-07-03T23:56:24.992-04:00The Perfect Weekend includes the Perfect PonyMy recipe for a perfect weekend:<br />
<br />
<ul><li>Sleep in late with the girls snuggled in close to me</li>
<li>Pack the blankets, popcorn and don't forget the glow sticks...... because its time for the FIREWORKS</li>
<li>Sleep in late again</li>
<li>Pack the blankets, popcorn, glow sticks from the freezer, a couple of micro-brews and head to the DRIVE IN</li>
<li>Sleep in late again</li>
<li>Try on dresses at a friends house and get ready for the WEDDING next month</li>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div><li style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Go to the barn, ride the trails and spend the entire afternoon in the rain, laughing, playing with the World's most perfect PONY</li>
</ul><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJY6WlTuc4fSvkTgVTaD0RHXFEg-WHnk65s4ccS7WTXp52TObvZPdpXoWx2w8CNbrXtHXkXB5ujNUDQRX0FdorCv-FM7KBattk5OX4maPKDoP7RzOX2iBqrRRsynY4ciyu2JYUqFx2apzb/s1600/AJ+SN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJY6WlTuc4fSvkTgVTaD0RHXFEg-WHnk65s4ccS7WTXp52TObvZPdpXoWx2w8CNbrXtHXkXB5ujNUDQRX0FdorCv-FM7KBattk5OX4maPKDoP7RzOX2iBqrRRsynY4ciyu2JYUqFx2apzb/s320/AJ+SN.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Tomorrow is a picnic at Ellen's and a lot of housework, then fireworks bound again, maybe, depending on how much I can withstand gravity.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-36743648200124278482011-06-26T22:54:00.001-04:002011-06-26T23:02:29.877-04:00Warrior Dash 2011Warrior Dash!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br />
<br />
8 weeks ago, I got it in my head to run the Warrior Dash. A 5k race with outrageous obstacles, including a military climbing wall, mud pit under barbed wire and a wall of fire, it sounded like fun. I wasn't sure I could do it, so in order to make sure I did I followed a careful plan:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjmFT2c7mbMVOUlbarh6eOE8sTnDhhb2h4lHNsCd8CHUD11mBSXbEf9ihkvZRXhQXS8tpbCp1_pB4RAwDsJTvCWuM1yMncnn6ctONw4KGrKFSASHIOXzZ3o0Dtul-eg1pMP4snDwKx-NHN/s1600/Before+the+Dash.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjmFT2c7mbMVOUlbarh6eOE8sTnDhhb2h4lHNsCd8CHUD11mBSXbEf9ihkvZRXhQXS8tpbCp1_pB4RAwDsJTvCWuM1yMncnn6ctONw4KGrKFSASHIOXzZ3o0Dtul-eg1pMP4snDwKx-NHN/s320/Before+the+Dash.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>1. Conscript a friend to do it with me. (misery...company)<br />
2. Tell other people about it. (with so many people cheering you on, its harder to bag out of it)<br />
3. Run every day, no matter what (even when you don't have 5 spare minutes)<br />
4. Hire a personal trainer to MAKE you push it every step of the way<br />
<br />
And I am happy to say that after 8 weeks of listening to me whine about it, my friends and family can say that they have survived the Warrior Dash with me!!!<br />
<br />
And there is photographic evidence!!!! <br />
Before the race, after the race...covered in mud, at the post race celebration with the Xena runners and my friends.... even surrounded by a group of Spartans complete with swords..... it was a great day<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Y_qQsBQ8NjQRbzSVGtu-aq6izDD_FDlvSI-ySmj3pdjR2ysHr5vxp0GRyX0h7Lky0yAYM1jXtL5xO1yIHKWCaB4w0y8WvMO0RzcIP_tXjJEKqEljM2cn2aGq9V7hwqNgeYs26mtWM4UA/s1600/Muddy+after+the+DAsh.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Y_qQsBQ8NjQRbzSVGtu-aq6izDD_FDlvSI-ySmj3pdjR2ysHr5vxp0GRyX0h7Lky0yAYM1jXtL5xO1yIHKWCaB4w0y8WvMO0RzcIP_tXjJEKqEljM2cn2aGq9V7hwqNgeYs26mtWM4UA/s320/Muddy+after+the+DAsh.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4GzuJSuFdd5IUe18BTDrg7Mf6IZpLRD-PoEZcOu0etrMYjt3n84Ya6NUAKGkl95owb2yc53megdRPJFvcBewOUnwDdIYeOa7Ok7jTZjqSgIABozArq1s7w2tx4AoPEMJ8B6JaVSeHwsqe/s1600/Warrior+Girls+and+Boys.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4GzuJSuFdd5IUe18BTDrg7Mf6IZpLRD-PoEZcOu0etrMYjt3n84Ya6NUAKGkl95owb2yc53megdRPJFvcBewOUnwDdIYeOa7Ok7jTZjqSgIABozArq1s7w2tx4AoPEMJ8B6JaVSeHwsqe/s320/Warrior+Girls+and+Boys.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfHRNO2pcy0UcaMLaxJ6RHq9rY4ofn-VMggYHDZgs3u9eE_tF8rgkZBer8xsEwqIZiCwN_seUwk8MWz2SeRLxChtrTZ4SYv4QxtuJjyahUBypTcRTm9MwtANVc21hIFAXmiupR5vpsZcLo/s1600/After+the+Dash.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfHRNO2pcy0UcaMLaxJ6RHq9rY4ofn-VMggYHDZgs3u9eE_tF8rgkZBer8xsEwqIZiCwN_seUwk8MWz2SeRLxChtrTZ4SYv4QxtuJjyahUBypTcRTm9MwtANVc21hIFAXmiupR5vpsZcLo/s320/After+the+Dash.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY5k90d6uRnJNAaPI7MHdRiEqQFD243MKmFcUf1gPs3zsNoWFFi9l5cKARhGvZzwpwHF0ydbluj9uoj8wWnXwn-grPSOW8JbAEjXsQwubEbM9_oeR9IUs3kIvKm3z9wod3YWsbiCwWSFQM/s1600/SpartanS%2521%2521%2521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY5k90d6uRnJNAaPI7MHdRiEqQFD243MKmFcUf1gPs3zsNoWFFi9l5cKARhGvZzwpwHF0ydbluj9uoj8wWnXwn-grPSOW8JbAEjXsQwubEbM9_oeR9IUs3kIvKm3z9wod3YWsbiCwWSFQM/s320/SpartanS%2521%2521%2521.JPG" width="191" /></a></div>Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-6805325744646136112011-06-13T22:35:00.000-04:002011-06-13T22:35:39.854-04:00Last NightLast night at home.<br />
<br />
Last night I tuck my girls into the beds I chose for them and the fluffy blankets we picked out together.<br />
Last night I hold my old cat in my lap while trying to type.<br />
Last night I hear the wood frogs in the vernal pool out back and see the fireflies congregate under my ancient Rhododendron. <br />
Last night I sit in the recliner and watch my perfectly perfect fireplace roar. (yes, I turned it on just to watch it, in June)<br />
Last night I take a wine glass down from my beautiful cabinets in the kitchen I designed myself.<br />
Last night I sit on the porch and listen to the bats overhead and watch Orion travel across the sky.<br />
Last night I wonder just how big the Hosta will grow by the next day.<br />
Last night I stand in the hallway and watch my girls sleep. In the rooms they came home to as babies. In the rooms they learned how to clap, walk, laugh, talk, shop, roll their eyes and sneak cheetos after bedtime. <br />
Last night I pass by the spot where I got the phone call that my father had died.<br />
Last night I walk by the place where every Christmas tree in my children’s memory has been, and all the laughter and squealing that comes to mind with just standing still in that spot.<br />
Last night I walk by the place in the garden where my pets are buried. <br />
Last night I hear and feel and smell and taste my home.<br />
Last night in the home that I made a home.<br />
<br />
Leaving your home is one of the hardest things in the world. No matter that the decision is right. It is hard.<br />
When I return after tomorrow, it will be as a guest. It will no longer be my home. <br />
<br />
There are some amazing things in store for the future, but for tonight, I’ll watch a favorite movie on the TV and soak up what I can of this old house and the ghost of the family that lived in it. I hope it finds peace.Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-17677459914258737312011-05-27T22:42:00.000-04:002011-05-27T22:42:21.635-04:00ChangeSpringtime has always been a time of change, from winter’s cold and bleakness to a sudden dawning of black and green and hesitant new life. Nothing ever amazes me more than that first day in spring where there is a haze of green over every hill and valley in my drive. The leaves aren’t out yet, the trees are still bones reaching for the sky, but there are signs of life, growing and promising that perfect promise of what is to come. It isn’t beautiful but it holds that promise that beautiful is <i>coming</i>. I am grateful always for summer, but nothing holds happiness like that day of promise after winter.<br />
<br />
This winter was the hardest I have ever remembered. There were times that I just didn’t think it would end but it did. I was back to work full time after so many wonderful years home with my girls. I missed every second away from them at the same time that I grew accustomed to being the overachiever at my career, all over again. My mother endured life changing surgery without me by her side and all of it was a part of my daily, changing, chaotic life, separated from what I loved the most. <br />
Change came so fast and furious that I could not adapt and just kept swaying with every blow that came. Get up, try again. Get up, try again. And always do it better and faster than those around you.<br />
<br />
In the time that I refocused on me, in order to change the world around me, my kids and my family also had to refocus their lives. It wasn’t easy on any of us, we all had to grow and change and it was *<i>hard</i>.* We won and we lost and we grew and reformed.<br />
<br />
In the past year I’ve lost friends that I loved. I found new friends and lost still others. When I reach for them and they aren’t there, it hurts right down to my soul. I’ve won and lost and grew and reformed. And I miss them with every breath, even if I don’t talk about it. <br />
<br />
Today my mother had a health scare that I’m still not prepared to deal with. We have time, but that time is finite. I know it, but knowing it is more than I wanted to know.<br />
<br />
Tonight my girls are away. It is something is very very hard, but that change is here now and knowing is, again, more than I could prepare for. They’ll grow stronger for it. But my home is empty without them. I cannot fill it myself.<br />
<br />
I find myself alone for the first time in years. I won, I lost and I am finding that I have to remake my life again in a crazy search for a summer that is there, just beyond reach. <br />
<br />
This year is like one very long spring. There is a haze of green over everything….. it isn’t here yet, but there is a perfect promise that it is coming. Spring showers, May flowers. And then a summer spent with those that you love the most.<br />
<br />
I miss what I lost. I’m grateful for what I had. I’m terrified and overjoyed and broken hearted and empowered by what is to come.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aog11k2_gTE">For Good<br />
</a>Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-58011147619467166782011-02-04T22:43:00.002-05:002011-02-04T22:52:09.884-05:002011 Father Daughter DanceThe girls look forward to the town Father Daughter Dance every year. The entire production, from new dresses to fancy shoes and accessories, is planned for weeks. <br />
<br />
This year, Abby kept her eye on the "high heeled shoes" and didn't give up until she got them. Despite our predictions of a broken ankle in the first 10 minutes, she not only kept the shoes on all night, she also proved that she can walk, run and dance in them. The best moment was when she arrived home, mincing along the hallway saying "My feeeeeeeet!" There is a price to pay for dancing all night in fabulous heels. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr1iab8pTS5u2g1w6cSVBLRrjrCBFmNO-H7NOYaYEXd9LivoZRkCW98x8VOu92qwvVxOKRdCR-ceqwv80_QMRTcbF2isdL4EBeAOqpSctfeZw5hYLZYvT0dJWC1VDrukEs-spRQXr_8O3R/s1600/IMG_0125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr1iab8pTS5u2g1w6cSVBLRrjrCBFmNO-H7NOYaYEXd9LivoZRkCW98x8VOu92qwvVxOKRdCR-ceqwv80_QMRTcbF2isdL4EBeAOqpSctfeZw5hYLZYvT0dJWC1VDrukEs-spRQXr_8O3R/s320/IMG_0125.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Evie opted for the "Belle of the Ball" look with the most beautiful dress and lasted most of night before announcing that it was time to call Mommy because she was ready to go home. She got to see her friends Ave and Skye at the dance and the played and giggled.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcrb_wQoAhnv3oNRBFf02nBmImJV1R39AMrREKJSub52oMVIk7WcfiTmcX5ajskW9y_nTQ48x2kQASdow3EocflRS-FQJdD50fQwOV9GXt75p2Fd2gIVNZ_zWXaK8LXcgIXGmgpWa9p6iL/s1600/100_8416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcrb_wQoAhnv3oNRBFf02nBmImJV1R39AMrREKJSub52oMVIk7WcfiTmcX5ajskW9y_nTQ48x2kQASdow3EocflRS-FQJdD50fQwOV9GXt75p2Fd2gIVNZ_zWXaK8LXcgIXGmgpWa9p6iL/s320/100_8416.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
David was able to chat with the other dads, dance with his girls and ejoy a special "Dads Only" night on the town.<br />
<br />
I enjoyed my two hours at home, with the surround sound at 70, rediscovering the pure joy of dancing, singing too loud, and cleaning at the same time. Fun <i>and</i> productive!Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-16464264367760050192011-01-26T20:49:00.000-05:002011-01-26T20:49:43.077-05:00The Roof, The Roof, The Roof is Under Water!I love the rain. I sleep in peace when it rains. <br />
I love the snow. It makes everyone slow down, stop and play in complete stillness.<br />
<br />
I do not love it when the snow melts and creates an Ice Dam which then causes RAIN in my home.<br />
<br />
For years I have watched the AllState commercials. You know, the ones that say, "You're in good hands, with Allstate." It always made me feel safe.<br />
<br />
I can now honestly say that, yes indeed, we are in Good Hands... and a great big whopping Thank You to AllState.<br />
<br />
And now I leave you all with the vision of me, watching the water run down my walls. It ran directly down, stubbornly clinging to one surface on a single minded path. I knew that if I could just <i>guide</i> the water into a bowl, I could at least save myself the trouble of mopping floors every hour until the Insurance Mitigation Team could get there to do their job.<br />
<br />
I needed a sluice of some kind, to gather the water and direct it to one of 11 bowls on my floor. <br />
<br />
What did I have that could make a sluice?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61sw7nV8B8L._AA300_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="300" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61sw7nV8B8L._AA300_.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Yeah. That's right. I used the sluice from the MouseTrap Game. I taped it to my wall and forced the water to run into a bucket.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow the adjuster from AllState comes to the house to assess the damage and we can begin making repairs. <br />
<br />
<br />
I'm a hardy New Englander but, seriously, I'm all done with winter.Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-36438659928049386772011-01-17T22:06:00.000-05:002011-01-17T22:06:51.566-05:00Double Digits and iTunes AccountsI just said "Goodnight" to my baby girl for the last Single Digit day of her life. <br />
<br />
Tomorrow morning at 5:18 a.m. we will celebrate the 10 year anniversary of our oldest daughter's birth. <br />
<br />
10 years ago, David and I were watching Star Trek: Voyager after finishing up a plate of Buffalo Wings and the first contraction hit. We don't remember what episode it was, we were slightly preoccupied, but I remember staring at the TV screen while the phrase, "THIS IS IT" pounded an echoed through my skull. <br />
<br />
Around 8 hours and no drugs later, I was the proud Mama of a baby who.... seriously, didn't look like me, or any family member I knew of. I kid you not, I stared at her for at least a minute thinking............. "huh. Not what I pictured."<br />
<br />
She was amazingly, heartbreakingly beautiful and the most incredibly feminine looking baby I had ever seen. That I sort of expected <grin> But I had pictured <i>blonde</i>. <br />
<br />
My Abigail was born with dark skin, a full, thick head of black hair, and the reddest, most perfect Angelina Jolie lips ever. <br />
David bathed in glory. My father took one look at Abby and asked me, "Is she yours?"<br />
<br />
We have raised Abby through the Finding Nemo years, the Pink Unicorn years, the Pony Club and Puppy Lovin years and finally, heaven help us, onto the Justin Beiber years. <br />
<br />
After surveying her room and the amazing present stash that her Nana gifted her with, I said, "Baby, I just don't know what to give you anymore."<br />
<br />
She looked at me, with her huge green eyes and then fell into my arms with the most amazing, wonderful, warm embrace.... <br />
"Love, Mom. I'm too old for the other gifts now. I just need a gift once a year or so. I need love every day."<br />
<br />
I am brought full cycle. Speechless at the amazing gift that is my oldest daughter.<br />
<br />
At 5:18 tomorrow morning, she will turn 10. Double Digits. Leaving the pink unicorns and ponies and puppies behind and loading up her iTunes account instead.<br />
<br />
She will always be my baby. And I'll never remember that episode of Star Trek: Voyager.Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-4686372633334684522010-12-01T13:00:00.000-05:002010-12-01T13:00:13.108-05:00Tooth Fairy, Revealed; Santa, BetrayedAbby had to have two of her stubborn baby teeth pulled. And you know what that means............. the Tooth Fairy Visit.<br />
<br />
I snuck into Abby’s room that night to trade $$ for her two pulled teeth. She looked so peacful that my heart just about stopped when she WOKE UP. She blinks. I stand, frozen like a rabbit.<br />
<br />
“Mom?”<br />
“Yeah-huh?”<br />
“What are you doing?”<br />
“Just checking in on you to see how you’re feeling.”<br />
“Okay. Good night” <br />
<br />
I walk out with a slient prayer of "ohshitohshitohshitdon’treachunderthepillow”<br />
and go to the kitchen to wait. It wasn't long. <br />
<br />
About 5 minutes later I heard foot-tapping. I turned around. Abby is standing there, offending Tooth-Fairy bag dangling from the edge of her fingertips.”<br />
<br />
“What is this?”<br />
<br />
“That’s the tooth fairy’s satchel.”<br />
<br />
“Mmmyeah. It’s full. There’s no way the tooth fairy got here this fast. And the money smells like Nana. “<br />
<br />
“uuuuhhhhhhh”<br />
<br />
“Tell me the truth. Nana gave Daddy the money. He gave it to you. You put it in my bag after taking the teeth and <i><b>you’ve been the tooth fairy all this time, haven’t you?!”<br />
</b></i><br />
After a brief conversation of what it means to believe, I did in fact admit that I had played the role. She nodded her head solemly. Understanding and forgiving the betrayal.<br />
<br />
"Okay. I won't tell Evie or anyone else who beleives."<br />
"Thank you, baby, that's very nice of you."<br />
<br />
<i><b>"Yeah. I dont' want Santa to find out I'm the one who ratted out the Tooth Fairy!"<br />
</b><br />
</i><br />
beat.<br />
<br />
Her eyes got really wide. I think I heard the sound of A thousand christmas bells shattering against the floor of her heart. Then she just went to bed. <br />
<br />
Someday, she's going to make an incredible Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus.<br />
Until then, <a href="http://cheysu.blogspot.com/2007/09/abby-lost-her-blue-tooth.html">I remember when she believed</a>:Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-66837110419356351812010-11-05T21:09:00.001-04:002010-11-05T21:10:53.053-04:00FIYAH!!!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQCY1wvlmQdZhGNsIMvJfHDkT0jyaMHKVV7fG1H0bVPO6_Bnr_lEEVVPrLuOOE3ASnYuc8jzAKc7UDiSwXFtPmBS45nP7isO-vDeLyTtV_j_BPMRrN74sc9L-CT-Um7mKl7qXdFuLslv_/s1600/1105101957-00.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQCY1wvlmQdZhGNsIMvJfHDkT0jyaMHKVV7fG1H0bVPO6_Bnr_lEEVVPrLuOOE3ASnYuc8jzAKc7UDiSwXFtPmBS45nP7isO-vDeLyTtV_j_BPMRrN74sc9L-CT-Um7mKl7qXdFuLslv_/s400/1105101957-00.jpg" /></a> <br />
<br />
<br />
David had the BRILLIANT idea of lighting the pilot on the fireplace rather than waiting for the propane company to do it.<br />
<br />
Ladies And Gentlemen........... We HAVE FIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
*I offically melted my t-shirt to my body<div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-75217235155461729642010-11-03T22:06:00.000-04:002010-11-03T22:06:49.898-04:00Define "Relax" in your MPPIt is no secret that I can be my own worst critic. (and biggest fan, but usually only after one margarita and before the third) Since I went back to work a few weeks ago I have been furiously ensuring my ability to "do it all." Frankly, I'm tired. That's why I promised myself that when I got home I would finish paying bills for Mom and spend the evening organizing photos for the yearly family album. <br />
<br />
The yearly family album is like an albatross sitting around my neck from Halloween until Thanksgiving when it is finished and sent off to the printer and the faster I finish it the higher my happiness quotient. The album is a symbol of good luck and good fortune (until someone killed it) and its' completion was on my list of things that would make me happy tonight. <br />
<br />
I didn't start it yet.<br />
<br />
Instead, I talked to my sister, Deb, for over an hour. <br />
<br />
I'm smiling.<br />
<br />
Sometimes the definition for "Relaxation" and "Happiness" needs to be updated and happiness comes from sources that weren't on your daily project plan.<br />
<br />
Thank you, Debby!! <br />
<br />
Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-1084535072925478732010-10-24T21:10:00.001-04:002010-10-24T21:12:40.234-04:00Open it Up and See How it Works!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIX2MsANBpNrHDu18v-IEq7ABFgUh9t7GfgpQDUCWar2st0gY55q_9qqeKutql3eljH-JtNTjMQR9MobQWYI0fMcnF5bcD91frFgWwRdu8eM4a8M7Qwob3XBo4GlNKqR-2K1_APeWAZtUR/s1600/Abby+Bees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIX2MsANBpNrHDu18v-IEq7ABFgUh9t7GfgpQDUCWar2st0gY55q_9qqeKutql3eljH-JtNTjMQR9MobQWYI0fMcnF5bcD91frFgWwRdu8eM4a8M7Qwob3XBo4GlNKqR-2K1_APeWAZtUR/s320/Abby+Bees.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>I love that my kids, the very same ones who make me save worms, will also be the first ones lining up to look at its guts. <br />
<br />
<br />
I was morally oppossed to dissection in school but couldn't wait to actually do it, to see how the parts worked, what thry looked like and more. So it was no surprise when, last year, Abby was thrilled that she had the chance to dissect a Dog Shark at school and she still talks about it how awesome it was. That's cool. <br />
<br />
When a wicked storm came through last week during a brutal cold snap, a large White Faced Hornet's nest blew in half and landed near my truck at work. It was the coolest thing ever, getting to see the inside of those basket-ball sized nests. So what'd I do? I took it home, of course, and waited all weekend for some quiet time to sit down with the kids and dissect it. <br />
<br />
Of course you know what happened. I cut into the first egg-cell and instead of a little bee-corpse all science-y and stuff, I was faced with the nightmare visage of a very LIVE very PISSED off bee scraping its way out of the egg casing and coming for my face. I screamed like a girl, picked up Evie and ran to the other room. <br />
<br />
Abby dumped the bee on the table, put a glass jar over it and spent the next hour cutting open the rest of the nest and loudly yelling the status of each egg cell. <br />
"Its alive! And this one is feisty!!!!" <br />
<br />
My kid is so cool. Me, not so much.Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-58126351775177889492010-10-03T23:15:00.000-04:002010-10-03T23:15:22.517-04:00Looking Back and Forward and Getting WhiplashEvery October, on Halloween night, I begin our family album for the year. The album chronicles our family in both pictures and my often inconsistent blog posts, from the previous Halloween night. Fall to Fall, 12 month calendar cycle. Each year the album takes about 5 to 6 weeks to complete before it is printed and sent to me from Kodak right in time for Christmas. They average 75 pages and I comb through about 2000 pictures to choose the best 300 or so to make it to the final cut. Our family album is precious to me. My kids go through them at least once every two months. <br />
<br />
When asked why I bother to use up so much time, I can only say that each album invokes the magic of "Remember When?" <br />
<br />
Remember when I <a href="http://cheysu.blogspot.com/2009/09/momentous-occassions.html">dressed the Pony up as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz </a>and won the costume contest?<br />
<br />
Remember when I <a href="http://cheysu.blogspot.com/2007/06/daddys-girl.html">came home</a>?<br />
<br />
Remember when <a href="http://cheysu.blogspot.com/2007/12/evies-first-snow.html">I saw snow</a> for the first time?<br />
<br />
Remember when you <a href="http://cheysu.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html">laughed at my artwork</a>?<br />
<br />
Remember when we <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9qIlPxG4jf0">saw the wild horses</a>?<br />
<br />
Remember when we went to Disney?<br />
<br />
Remember when I got my ears pierced?<br />
<br />
Every story and every major moment, from life changes to fishing for crayfish, are included in the album if they have pictures or a special memory attached. It's almost Halloween, so I've started thinking about this coming years' album and sorting through some of my past years' blog posts to help remind me of stories and occasions. This also makes me "Remember when" all those moments that aren't included in the family album. <br />
<br />
Remember when I forgot<a href="http://cheysu.blogspot.com/2009/10/jayne-says-cmon-everyone-who-matters.html"> my own worth</a>?<br />
<br />
Remember when I finally quit smoking?<br />
<br />
<a href="http://cheysu.blogspot.com/2010/03/pheromones.html">Remember when my baby talked pheromones</a>?<br />
<br />
All of those things were about a year ago. How different a calendar year can be!! I look back and I'm amazed at how hard it has been to move forward and the simple fact that I was strong enough to make it happen. And I was. And it has.<br />
<br />
My family is a blessing. And I remember when I almost forgot that.Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-6884564973475339022010-09-28T20:40:00.000-04:002010-09-28T20:40:58.776-04:00Make a HomeI have spent almost 5 years home raising my girls, taking care of my family and finding out exactly how green the grass can be. <br />
<br />
I'm grateful for the time I've had with my girls. I am also unfazed by admitting that it is time that I returned to work and carved out a future for us now that we are all ready for it.<br />
<br />
I will be contracting with an amazing firm, <a href="http://www.systemtec.net/">SystemTec</a>, and working for a company that is so wonderful that it made me say, "I want to be a Duck!" Seriously. I said that. In an interview. It makes sense if you know the company. ;)<br />
<br />
If you have the opportunity to stay home when your children are young, I can tell you to embrace every moment and hold tight tight tight. Life was never so terrifying or a moment so laden with responsibility as when I knew I. was. the. home. Now it is time to let go and move forward on a new journey. I am beyond excited, and nervous and grateful for yet another gift that, while given, has also been earned. A good friend told me that it all happens for a reason. I laughed. I cried. I swore a bit, but she was right. It was the right opportunity at the right time.<br />
<br />
<br />
My thoughts, penned by Neil Gaimon, in <i><a href="http://www.endicott-studio.com/cofhs/cofinstr.html">Instructions</a><br />
</i><br />
<blockquote>When you reach the little house, the place your<br />
<br />
journey started,<br />
<br />
you will recognize it, although it will seem<br />
<br />
much smaller than you remember.<br />
<br />
Walk up the path, and through the garden gate<br />
<br />
you never saw before but once.<br />
<br />
And then go home. Or make a home.<br />
<br />
And rest.</blockquote>Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-74878734336544011762010-09-24T21:12:00.000-04:002010-09-24T21:12:47.571-04:00Big E 2010The girls at the Big E this year. The most beautiful weather I could imagine and, joy of joys, we FINALLY made the parade on time and got to see the Budwieser Clydesdales in full hitch! <br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkHHhOqjRQ2qhHAZi0DwjVWCvdM2DX9vwy7ZPH_Wf86wNHZf1K_PkrevvXfSA01PtNUQoXvbRB7Zytdgn5DKIkuyA9UPfkaOSSBgDFHSK-sRqXGhCu8Bu9DQUrZ9Ad-GdjsVKfYEYisMg/s1600/100_7593.JPG"></a><br /><br /> </div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Ko2oIcRopIsFPLFXhOxW5ZcGo5RiUzBV5rFeK73wLkkzwGl0Jqcwpyhjz6UqUYi_o-DlQKQVQXxkZmHEsy4d1LrsMULYLLRHbQUda2BIHr1ejVQvLgyjWPVHi4Gd_9Ct1x20c4qw3VFG/s1600/100_7597.JPG"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Ko2oIcRopIsFPLFXhOxW5ZcGo5RiUzBV5rFeK73wLkkzwGl0Jqcwpyhjz6UqUYi_o-DlQKQVQXxkZmHEsy4d1LrsMULYLLRHbQUda2BIHr1ejVQvLgyjWPVHi4Gd_9Ct1x20c4qw3VFG/s400/100_7597.JPG" /></a> </div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPja4Z_pZtofYUoQlFAokhcAep4AZp3h93lkhq5J0v051vKUNSktGkdxbHWBQxKGpTEOB7rXbB4sFRiGxUAfeejICiNLh4VvgqzP3gzdMT-G9NpniOP_sXFLFKjviWfhvgw735VkWfwa0F/s1600/100_7568.JPG"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPja4Z_pZtofYUoQlFAokhcAep4AZp3h93lkhq5J0v051vKUNSktGkdxbHWBQxKGpTEOB7rXbB4sFRiGxUAfeejICiNLh4VvgqzP3gzdMT-G9NpniOP_sXFLFKjviWfhvgw735VkWfwa0F/s400/100_7568.JPG" /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7675411914807306469.post-17775330136221244762010-09-20T20:21:00.000-04:002010-09-20T20:21:46.854-04:00Fernando and Polka Dot with a Side of ObieSo many perfect pets, so little time..........<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-vuJsMVD6LpmlRWK2_DTYssVtLLN2VvP7KHklDx8dJCv4AVDo9rLWpluvpqSJIAFPbK8UJ_Uc7PwpaDoyCqFlviMTNilJFmc89vK6G4MR4OvJoJv5oAchHn7gk1q4yl6QElwOxE-ZAFU/s1600/100_7478.JPG"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-vuJsMVD6LpmlRWK2_DTYssVtLLN2VvP7KHklDx8dJCv4AVDo9rLWpluvpqSJIAFPbK8UJ_Uc7PwpaDoyCqFlviMTNilJFmc89vK6G4MR4OvJoJv5oAchHn7gk1q4yl6QElwOxE-ZAFU/s400/100_7478.JPG" /></a> </div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFjxpSrzaywRLs2Qr_7PKhPKo_mftM324GLTSsxsFuLi47ydRPFwy-B1zQLFhvIZWkbiELby_JiDD-EffHbxPk3Osss1tU0wmPcTmoncQhyphenhyphen2A33Lj6AxpPRjbfR_t0N5Ru5AQb1dtL47OI/s1600/100_7477.JPG"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFjxpSrzaywRLs2Qr_7PKhPKo_mftM324GLTSsxsFuLi47ydRPFwy-B1zQLFhvIZWkbiELby_JiDD-EffHbxPk3Osss1tU0wmPcTmoncQhyphenhyphen2A33Lj6AxpPRjbfR_t0N5Ru5AQb1dtL47OI/s400/100_7477.JPG" /></a> </div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffjVWxCIPm5ezJFV3xSLa6hIKmquOrQhuFq3smVI56waQOqlhKovCJEwTMGovMRzy1KihjvsATNQgc4yRnClXwykY0wBPinDFHnE2KRHuXMGesOBuBEwJJolFXabUx-RrPf81YqJHp5D_/s1600/100_7479.JPG"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffjVWxCIPm5ezJFV3xSLa6hIKmquOrQhuFq3smVI56waQOqlhKovCJEwTMGovMRzy1KihjvsATNQgc4yRnClXwykY0wBPinDFHnE2KRHuXMGesOBuBEwJJolFXabUx-RrPf81YqJHp5D_/s400/100_7479.JPG" /></a> </div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiJE_69sIf0i6iFG3EBXdFANeJUSq8wpm6NJ6A9ycjH2jSBfGveZAyh7ceskq8pnjQH6YXxqUKk3Xx9TSMa07euCeKQuiZguEizGbKYPu3sfR3lBltmAjscjiIi43XqZLsOHYdhcC1xE_A/s1600/100_7495.JPG"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiJE_69sIf0i6iFG3EBXdFANeJUSq8wpm6NJ6A9ycjH2jSBfGveZAyh7ceskq8pnjQH6YXxqUKk3Xx9TSMa07euCeKQuiZguEizGbKYPu3sfR3lBltmAjscjiIi43XqZLsOHYdhcC1xE_A/s400/100_7495.JPG" /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Cheysuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12292365852795508663noreply@blogger.com0