Saturday, October 31, 2009


I am so disappointed with the status of my neck/back injury. I know, that perhaps I don't really have any real ground in which to complain on, given the fact that there are people that read this, that have suffered way worse back issues.
But, given the fact that this is my God damn writing platform.
OW, dammit.
How? May I ask, am I suppose to run 13.1 miles in 15 days, when: A. I clearly cannot train with what feels like a searing hot KNIFE in my shoulder.
And B. If I do not train, well, then I may die. Like, literally.

I thought about running today, after the four Aleve that I sucked down like a crazed pill popper.
But then I was all like, oh this bowl of candy is here.
And then I kept making excuses. Which may, or may not, have revolved around me sticking my paw into said bowl of candy.
And OH, I ate me some candy today. Because what I was ALSO doing, was remembering my brother Jonah. Who, as I mentioned in the previous post, loved him some Reeces.
Cut to me laying on the couch, covered in orange wrappers, smearing melted peanut-butter deliciousness across my lips, all in the name of remembrance.
Oh, and, I guess an entire day of eating nothing but Reeces will really cure your hatred for it- I guess you can get used to just about anything.

Hope you all had a VERY happy Halloween!

Thursday, October 29, 2009


Let me tell you what is not fun.
Pulling a muscle in your neck.

I cannot turn my head to left. Can't look down at my boobs, Cant look up at the sky.
I am, as they say...Paralyzed.

And, yes, perhaps I am being dramatic. Perhaps I did just bury my face in a bottle of ALEVE.
And perhaps, I paralyzed myself by playing "I am going to drop YOU!" With Allie.
Cause, well, I almost dropped her. Hence, me pulling every available muscle in my neck and left side of my back.

Its fantastic.

I may, or may not, be an eighty year old woman.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009


So we all know my favorite Holiday is quickly approaching. As in, Saturday is HALLOWEEN. Translation: I will be in some sort of candy crazed, baby cuteness, picture taking, woopie pie making, coma, and may, or may not, be able to update this blog and let you all IN on what is happening!
Except of course, I will OBVIOUSLY be posting pictures!

This morning I was enjoying my five minutes of silence, as Allie eagerly sucked down 8 ounces of formula. You might be wondering why I enjoy Halloween so much?
And yes, part of it, is that I thoroughly enjoy me some cavities, but the other half...I LOVE LOVE the rush of being terrified. And I certainly love scaring the hell out of other people. This characteristic I am certain I inherited from my Dad, who spent a good couple of weeks mapping out what crazy contraption he would use THIS YEAR, in order to scare the living hell out of the neighborhood children.
I am serious people.
We had wires running from our upstairs window, attached to some sort of "pumpkin head" and as innocent children would pass the lifeless, stuffed, scare crow, my dad or brother would pull the wire- sending the head flying into the air. Thus causing many children to drop a tiny load in their pants and  run off screaming in terror.
This- (of course) amused my Dad so much, that every year we planned something different.
One year, my Dad decided to horn in on my "acting skills" and dressed ME up as the lifeless scare crow, and had me act all, you know, scare crow like. And as the children would pass, I would suddenly become REAL and jump out at them.
I can still hear my Dad laughing from the upstairs window, declaring SUCCESS at another terrified child. Or shouting out "notes" like a crazed director.
"This time, Chels, wait until they get their candy, THEN jump out at them!"
Even as far back as I can remember, Halloween was such a magical time in my house. My mom would drag out this huge box, from under the stairs, behind the mink coats, and musty smelling winter jackets.
She would pull out scary masks, wigs, cloth, props. My brother Jonah and I would dance around, excited to death about what we would be THIS YEAR. I totally lucked out having my brother as my Trick or Treating partner, cause, well, Jonah was not a huge fan of candy. Which TOTALLY worked out in my favor, he would trade me pretty much all the awesome candy, for crap like sweet tarts, and twizzlers.
He didn't even know that you NEVER trade a milky way for gum, that's pretty much like GIVING YOUR CANDY AWAY!
And while I was busy rolling around in my loot, Jonah would search frantically through his bag of candy looking for Reeses cups.
Cause, while he did not like caramel and chocolate, he loved his peanut butter and chocolate. And as luck would have it, (and why Jonah and I were kinda connected at the hip), I happen to HATE peanut butter and chocolate. So, by the end of the night- my bag was choc full of candy bars and skittles, and Jonah had all my Reeses...and all that craptastic stuff, like gobstoppers, twizzlers, gum, and those disgusting chewy peanut butter things.
And then we would proceed to eat ourselves into a sugar coma.
Another memory I have- one that my brother Josh still laughs at- mainly beause I am not sure he even remembers it.
Brother Josh was much older then Jonah and I, and totally was that guy that would scare a little kid into giving him their candy. One Halloween, brother Josh came home with a fricken TRASH BAG full of candy. I mean, come on, I would have liked nothing more, then to dump that trash bag of candy on the floor and to eagerly crawl through it, mashing chocolate into my face.
But my brother, being that he was the BIG BROTHER, and liked nothing more then to order Jonah and I around, he would reward us with candy- "for good behavior" like if we did his chores, or brought him food, or water.
But one night, my parents had a dinner party, and brother Josh and I were down stairs watching a movie. It was rare that he would let me hang out with just the fact that I got to do that was pretty cool. But ever so often he would toss me a candy bar, a package of sour patch kids, some skittles, all that he would pulling from his TRASH BAG of candy.  I still remember that. And I have no idea why it sticks to clearly in my mind, but that was a good night.

I think I miss Jonah and my Dad the most around Halloween- mainly so much time has gone by, my street, that used to be filled with all of us, all four kids screaming in sheer sugar delight, squealing, and racing around the yard- we are all grown up now..and some of us are no longer here.
I guess I am just nostalgic.
But totally stoked to make some awesome memories for Allessandra.
I guess thats what its all about.


Brother Josh read this post and sent me this:
Great write up Worst, pretty funny stuff.  Loved the box behind the mink coats, Jonah used to get so excited like there was 143 new masks and outfits in there every year.  He loved that burned face mask with the eye ball hanging out, I think if I put that on now and told him I was gonna wear it when I showed up he would still be scared, miss that crazy bastard.  I had forgotten about the year Dad had the pulley’s and levers from the deck and the window, he thought that was the greatest thing, we used to line the driveway with the Halloween bags with sand in them, the whole nines.

Good memories – Love ya a ton 

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

..Random Thoughts

This is what I saw out my window this AM
I went outside, barefoot, just to take this picture
Even though I think I am coming down with a death cold
I hate dry coughing
I equally hate having a tinkle in my throat
Incredibly jealous that my sister in law is living in Italy
Wishing that I could go to a foreign county
Wishing that I was more spontaneous
Thinking that having four cats was a bad idea
Wishing that someone would adopt 'Bad Cat'
Wishing it was Friday
Wanting more money
Wanting less work
Coffee is a good thing.
Totally stoked by Mcdonald's 1.00$ coffee (any size)
Was a little surprised that it actually cost 1.06- was thrown off by this, and frantically searched for change in my car.
Did not find change, but found many empty bags of Animal crackers.
Thinking I might have an Animal cracker addiction.

Little pieces of rug that Allie picks up and stuffs into her face, is a bad thing.
Sleep is a fantastic thing
Not getting enough of that
Irritated that Charm city cakes charge a 1000 minimum for any cake they make
Thinking that perhaps I should become a cake baker
Thinking that if I had 1000$ to throw around, spending it on something that will eventually come out as poo, is not my idea of money "well spent"
Am incredibly excited for Halloween, just to show off my gorgeous daughter
Thinking people are going to get real annoyed at how many pictures of her I am planning on taking
Have definitely not had enough Apple cider this fall
Need to get more pumpkins to carve
Thinking we probably wont, because Halloween is on Saturday, and carving pumpkins is not only a pain in the ass, but really messy.
Thinking I may act like Martha Stewart and dip my pumpkins in glitter
Cant believe that its gonna be November
Cant believe that I have to run 13.1 miles in two weeks
Thinking I am going to try to talk myself out of doing it
Really want to put 13.1 bumper sticker on my car
 Am aware of how dorky that sounds
Hoping that I do not shatter both my knee caps
just to put a bumper sticker on my car

Monday, October 26, 2009

Sunday, October 25, 2009


Last night was a very interesting.  Not in the sense of something amazing happened. But truthfully, I got a nice reality check- which in retrospect was as refreshing as toying with the cold water in the shower. Like when Titanic was popular, I was so that person that put the water as COLD as it could go, just to see what Jack and Rose went through. *SOB*
Shut up.
Anyways,  I have been fortunate enough to re connect with an old friend- who is struggling to deal with an injury that was brought on by other people's incompetence. Which in my opinion, is probably the worst kind of injury. Because, even if you have someone to blame, still does not change the fact that you are hurt.
I guess maybe I am just in awe of this person's strength. Instead of curling up under a pile of down comforters and smushing bon bons into her face (which,she would have EVERY right to do) she is actively trying to reach out to others who have sustained the same type of life altering injury.
And then I start thinking, well, what the fuck am I doing to help? Could I donate money to help cure cancer....yes probably, but seriously people. Don't you think that with all the GD money that cancer research receives, that we could have stopped someone from dying of the disease in TWO WEEKS?
I am bitter about this. Obviously.
And then there is that one balled douchebag, Lance Armstrong who makes a fortune with his friggen yellow bracelets.
Spare me Lance, you did not die of cancer, you lost your ball. And Sheryl Crow was too good for you.
Hate. Lance. Armstrong.
So, to answer my question.
I am doing nothing.
However, after talking to my friend for over an hour, I felt inspired for the first time in almost a year. I felt like maybe, we don't have to roll over and die. Maybe we can change the things in our lives that suck. 

Last night was the first time in a very long time, that I felt strong. Perhaps I was comforted knowing that someone else (other then immediate family) is also trying to cope with anger, fear, a sprinkle of depression, and some good old fashion self wallowing.  But my friend is literally taking her pile of fricken lemons and has not only whipped up some lemonade but also lemon pie, lemon scones, and lemon encrusted chicken.

And then you are forced to self reflect.
Change is possible. You just have to do it.

Friday, October 23, 2009

I have a half marathon to run in 3 weeks

So basically I have been dragging my butt outside in order to train. The only issue is, that for the past couple of mornings the weather is so damn cold, that my snot I am incredibly hesitant to bring my 7 month out into the Arctic air.
Except, well, if I don't bring her outside, I can't run, and if I don't run, then, I am, as they say..screwed. As in, I will probably be crawling across the finish line, on my elbows, foaming at the mouth. And truly no one wants to see that train wreck.
So, hence, I must train.

And this is why Allessandra was dressed like we were venturing out into sub zero temperatures. In fact I am pretty sure that the child could not have warmer if I had shoved her back into my uturus.

Me, on the other hand, must invest in some granny panties to cover my poor bum cheeks, because however taboo it is to see underwear lines in running tights....MY ASS IS STILL FROZEN!

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

And....she looks just like him too

There is a lot of BA BA, going on around here. To which I have OF COURSE been re directing to MA MA, MA MA MA.

Allie's response was not exactly what I was hoping for. After exhausting my efforts to get her to say MA MA, She raised her hand to the doorway, and stated rather condescendingly, "Da. Da."


Sunday, October 18, 2009

IF you are sick of all the Doom and Gloom

You can also find me here

Where I am challenging myself to dress like a Celebrity for one whole week!

This is where all my male readers quickly click on that pretty x on the top right hand side of the screen.
Its OK.
I understand.
I promise I will still write here too.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

I never really understood when writers had "blocks". These blocks that they would speak of, frantically sucking on their cigarettes, wringing their hands in sheer frustration.
"If I could only write something good!" "Something that would make 'em laugh, make em' understand."

I have sat down plenty of times, sipping hot apple cider, legs curled tightly underneath me, just ready to create and I just can't.
I feel like sometimes I just have nothing left. Its this empty hollow feeling, almost like at the end of a long run where you are just pulling at any resource you have left. Your legs are giving, but your shoulders bare all the weight- your sugars are depleted- so your body just starts sucking at every bit left...just to keep you on your feet. Its strange, cause your body tries to save you even when you are doing something that should down right kill you.
Sometimes, I think, pretending like its all fine, is what is sucking me dry. I am not really sure that I have any more resources to pull from.
So I cry, I say what's on my mind. I talk to my shrink who is frankly more concerned with the clock that hangs ominously above my head. She nods, she writes, she agrees, she cuts me off mid sentence to snatch my check and book appointment number 109.
So, what? Am I cured? Is it better? Is it even a little bit better?
Is this depression consequential, situational? Or is it something gone wrong in my brain?
But in the midst of my fumbling, my scattered mix of emotions, I am assured that everything I am feeling is normal.
So, I take my normal feelings, I shove them in my back pocket, I strap them around my waist, pull them tight around my neck.
I look at my little girl, and I find myself praying that nothing ever happens to me, or if it does, that she gets the gift of always remembering how much I love her.
Perhaps I am more of an anxious parent then Josh, I am constantly scrap booking pictures, writing her letters, telling her how much I love her. Maybe its because I lost my Mom when I was a little girl, and somehow that need has crept underneath my skin, to make me real.
My birth mother is a collage of pictures and stories. Reduced to a woman that I might have past on the street.
The woman that I call "Mom" is her sister. My mom has always been incredibly forthcoming with information about my birth mother, she has told me numerous stories, and has assured me that I "look just like her", things that light me up, but lately has made me incredibly sad.
Maybe that's it. Maybe that's all there is to it.
Maybe I am not only mourning my brother and my dad, but maybe I am also mourning the loss of my Mom.

I guess maybe if I can verbalize it, then maybe I can start healing.

How to get kicked out of my apartment, and or thrown off the balcony

Think Allie is a massive threat and stick your very sharp claws into her head.

And then there were three cats.

Thursday, October 15, 2009


I secretly wish I was Martha Stewart.
I mean, not in like "Hi, I am in jail!" Martha Stewart, but the "I just painted a portrait of my cat on this pumpkin, while whisking together a four course meal for my husband- and just for fun, knitted some booties and a sweater...for the neighbor's children."
I am so far off from Martha Stewart that its basically laughable. Let me be more specific, I am a disaster. I fumble, I burn Pop Tarts, I push my grocery cart ahead of myself in the checkout counter, thus causing a very awkward exchange of glances as I try to wedge myself past the cart, in order to pay for my stuff. I am perpetually a thirteen year old wearing my first bra under a white shirt. While also sporting my fancy braces, and glasses. WOOT!
I drop things, pour coffee down my shirt,I let my daughter eat my car keys, I park too close to other cars. Do you get my point here? I am by no means graceful , and I certainly do not do things with ease.
I remember watching my Mom, when I was little, cooking in the kitchen (Why do I always remember her cooking?) I would sit on this wooden chair that we kept pushed up against the wall, I would sit and watch her chop onions, all the while swinging my legs back and forth.
I remember my Mom having grace, she never once sliced her finger open with the massive knife she used- I can't remember her spilling coffee, dropping her cream cheese bagel face down on the ground. Never once did she wedge herself in the checkout line, smashed between the counter and her grocery cart.
She always remembered to put at coat on me, always made me wear tights when it was cold. Hell, I was NEVER allowed to go to bed with wet hair.
I am wondering if I was not born with that 'have it all together' gene. Josh seems to have it, he always remembers to put socks on Allie, dresses her like shes going out into the Arctic, decorates cupcakes with the skill and intensity of a Top Chef, whisks together four course meals, while keeping in mind the Weight Watcher points, of course!
Josh is graceful.
He would make an excellent Martha Stewart.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Lucky number Slevin, I mean Seven!

Dear Allessandra,
Today, today you are seven months old. six months went by so fast it was like I was having this amazing day, full of pumpkins, cider, roller coaster rides, and cheesecake, and then all of a sudden. BAM! New day, new month. New baby.
I am not even sure at this point I would refer to you as a baby you have this unbelievable personality, that borderlines on "crazy" with a hint of melodrama. You have me painted all over you.
I realize I say this a lot, probably since I started writing to you, but I just cannot grasp how beautiful you are.
The other day I was overcome with emotion after a total stranger informed me that you should be a "baby model." And while of course, my parental ego was flipped into overdrive, I found myself saying, "she's beautiful... AND BRILLIANT!"
And then proceeded to re tell the story of how you managed to unhook yourself from your highchair. And how you were already "cruising" at five months.
Even your Doctor is super impressed with your motor skills, and overall strength, I do believe at one point he may have used the word gifted or maybe mommy imagined that? Who can really be sure, but I have your applications to Yale and Harvard all ready to go. I am wondering if they offer a Preschool program? No worries, Mommy will do her research.
While we are on this subject, this month you have pretty much mastered the "bye bye" wave, which looks exactly like the "Hi HI" wave, that you do to attractive strangers, and to yourself in the mirror. Feeding yourself has become a regular activity. You crawl at the speed of light, pull up on anything you can get your hands on. You have also put together that you give kisses to people that you like, which in actuality blows my mind. I knew that you gave kisses to mommy, daddy, and Nanny Lisa, but when I saw you hightail it to your little friend with your mouth open ready to engulf his entire head, I about died of laughter.
How can you distinguish at such a young age, who you like and who you don't?
I said it before, but I swear you can read people, you are incredibly sensitive to people's energy, and truly I am beginning to trust your instincts.
This whole six month thing has been one amazing ride, we are smack dab in the middle of teething hell, which has since been rectified, thanks to something called INFANT MOTRIN. I hope you don't read this and think we drugged you, even though we did, but just to get some sleep, honey. Its amazing the things that one will do in order to get sleep. One day, you will understand.

I love you Ms Allessandra, buggie pants.

Love Always,

Friday, October 9, 2009

I remember when a "Day Off From work" consisted of lounging in bed watching BRAVO all day. Maybe going to the gym? Maybe shopping? Certainly I ate chocolate cake and danced naked around my apartment...right? What. Did. I. Do? I honestly cannot remember what it was like to sleep till 10AM, peruse the internet all day, read an entire book? Seriously, internet, I used to have all this TIME. But my GOD I must have been bored.
Today I spent my day off being showered with kisses from my tiny baby,we practiced waving Hi and Bye, and blowing kisses to McSteamy on Grey's Anatomy.

I watched her crawl across the room, holding my keys in one hand and Cell phone tucked safely under her other arm. I calmed her cries, I sang her songs, I fed her, changed her, dressed her, read to her, walked with her, laughed with her...I medicated her....(shut up. She was crying for like two hours from the two sharp teeth shooting out of her gums. There is only so much of my "entertaining her" that she can take) No, seriously I discovered that there is this thing called 8 hour Motrin As in not four hour Tylenol. As in, Mommy and Daddy will remain happily married because they will sleep a total of eight hours, and not revert back to tripping over the baby gate, and calling people assfaces at 1AM.
*The bruise on my thigh is a doozie*
Hate. Baby Gate.
Hate. Baby Teeth.

But you know what I do love? Those covers that go in the germ invested grocery carts...I mean HELLO?! Best invention ever, not only can Allie focus all of her attention on trying to shove the tag down her throat, but I don't have to worry about her contracting swine flu by just looking at it!
YEY inventions!

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Day 2

We are on DAY 2 of Baby teething Hell.
The first two teeth that popped up on the bottom of her tiny mouth only gave us one sleepless night. But these two top teeth are, um, kinda shoving a wedge into me enjoying my new KING SIZE BED.
And lets just say, Allie is well on her way to securing her place as our only child. For many different reasons, but the most important one? Her sobbing puts a bit of a damper on any romantic quality time. Mainly, because our only means of drowning out her wails, is to turn the TV up to a point where I swear to God our walls vibrate. Her screaming makes one want to hide under six pillows, or down a bottle of NyQuil.
It is all conducive to an excellent full night's sleep. Let. Me. Tell. You.

Several times last night I had to repeat to myself.
She's been fed.
She's been changed.
She's had Tylenol.

....She's fine. She will sleep soon. She's fine. She will sleep soon.

And she woke up every four hours. Just as soon as she would need some more Tylenol.


Monday, October 5, 2009

Just curious

Should I be worried that Allie's new favorite thing to do is to bite and suck my big toe?
I mean, shes like literally sucking on my feet. When I said "No!" she looked at me like I was being ridiculous.

She's all like, "Mom toe sucking is the new baby thing to do. Stop embarrassing me IN FRONT OF MY FRIENDS!"
Her friends being, twenty USB cords and the TV remote.

SO, um, I am turning a blind eye to her toe sucking.

Can you imagine her therapy bills?

Saturday, October 3, 2009

10 Things you might not know...but maybe you do

1. I am obsessed with butter popcorn jelly beans. I buy the Gourmet jellybeans and meticulously sort out the yummy popcorn ones and eat them first. Yes, first. I am not patient people. You already know this.

2. Ever since I gave birth- I have developed some sort of OCD with hand washing. I don't mean like I have to wash my hands twenty two times while humming twinkle twinkle little star, then tap the wall fifteen times, I just mean... I wash my hands.
A lot.
When you catch me trying to smother Allie's tiny hands in antibacterial soap, you can draw the line....although she might eat it then- thus killing any tiny swine flu germ that might have hopped onto her tongue....
I am gonna go wash my hands. Be right back.

3. I believe that there are two kinds of people on this planet. Those that LIKE black licorice and those that don't.

4. Same goes for hummus. I love them both.

5.I still sing in the shower, in my hair brush, and very loudly in my car.

6. I worry way too much. Mostly about ridiculous scenarios. I think I partly get this from my mother, who spent most of my teenage years obsessing over if one of us had locked the front door. And even after we reassured her that we DID LOCK IT MOM! She still had to walk down two flights of stairs and check it herself. And now I do the same. Perfect.
7. Sometimes the people that you think are your good friends, aren't really friends at all. like not even a little bit. But you think sharing history some how makes them friends, when really all they are is a good memory.

8. If I am hurt, confused, or angry, the only thing I know how to do is to cut you out of my life. And I am very good at it. I am fiercely loyal, but just as fierce when you piss me off.
9. If you talk shit about my family, especially my child, I will have kick you until you are dead. And then bury you in Jay's couch.
10. My seven year old self thought I would be a Doctor, living in a white house with a dog, a cat, a white picket fence, and a Ferrari. A hot pink Ferrari. And twin baby girls, named Sandy and Brenda.

Even though my life is totally different then what my seven year old self imagined it would be, I am pretty sure if I got the chance to go back to 1990 and curl up with that little girl and whisper it all in her ear....she would think what we get is way better then a Ferrari.

...Even if her future husband disagrees. :)