Groundhog Blues.

I am not ready for another 6 weeks of winter.

I am ready for 

spring 

and 

blossoms

 and 

cute skirts

 and 

afternoons at the park 

and

sandals 

and 

snapping sunny photos

and 

ice cream

bring on the ice cream.

I don't even get the whole groundhog thing.  If he sees his shadow doesn't it mean it's sunny and warm and ready for spring?  I think it's a little backwards if you ask me.

 

*By the way, I love this picture as illusional as it is...

 I have always dreamed of having long legs!

Actually I had long legs once.

Oh, I never told you?

I  just traded them in for a better personality in the pre-existence!

 

Not My Ordinary Routine.

Does anyone else freak out when your car has to go to the repair shop? I'm not talking $$$ shock (which is usually #1 on my list). But more like what if I need to go to Target for disinfectant wipes or I get a call from the school nurse? That kind of freak out. Being without my car kinda throws me for a loop.

This morning I knew the plan...

Drop of Max at school.

Go to Target for disinfectant wipes (see what I mean?).

Drop car off with mechanic.

Walk home. (Now don't think I'm amazing of anything...I live two miles away, it's doable!)

Clean bathrooms.

Wait for mechanic to drop off car to me.

Take on the rest of the day.



But really, what goes as planned?

Reality...

Drop off Max at school.

Drive to Target for disinfectant wipes...and napkins and carmex.

And a Diet Coke. Sam's fussiness requires a caffeinated boost for mom. Please don't judge me.

Drive to mechanic. He says it will only take about 45 minutes. He'll call me when it's ready.

I say, "Cool, there are several antique shops around the corner."

We walk and window shop.

I realize 45 minutes later, I forgot my phone in the car.

I walk back to the mechanic shop.

He says, "Blah, blah, blah, another needed part will be delivered in 2 hours."

I decide to walk home.

I walk a mile and see the trolly.

I unload Sam and carry him, my Target bag with disinfectant wipes, blanket, diet coke and collapsed stroller onto trolly.

I become eye candy to an older man with a cigarette tucked behind his ear.

I realize I left my house key with the mechanic.

Shoot.

I get off the trolly and walk back a mile or so to retrieve keys.

I walk back to the trolly and load 'em up again.

After a lovely 15 minute scenic ride through downtown, we make a stop and get off.

A gentleman offers to carry the stroller off the trolly and I ooze appreciation.

Two blocks later, I am home at last.

Sam grateful for a cozy bed.

Me gulping down the last of my 20 ounces.

Now onto the rest of the day, including putting those disinfectant wipes to work!

See ya!

12 Years Later.

It has been said that you never really know who you marry.  12 years ago, Leon and I were sealed in the Oakland temple.  Here is what I didn't know at the time about who I married...

I never knew Leon would love my cooking so much.  Even when I cooked pesto with 2 heads of garlic, instead of 2 cloves.  We now call that recipe, Newlywed Pesto.

I never knew Leon would be crying with me as we struggled with infertility.

I never knew Leon would be willing to drive a beat up '94 Jetta in order to use the "truck" savings for InVitro.  

I never knew Leon would be so involved in decorating our home.  It is kind of nice to have someone else's input...well sometimes.

I never knew that part of decorating our house would be leaving numerous tools in our front room.  At one point a rototiller...saw...drills.  

I never knew Leon would give me great advice on how to be tactful.  He always has the right way to say things to others.

I never knew Leon would be so supportive of my public service.  I always thought it would have been the other way around.

I NEVER knew Leon would be the one to leave his socks and paperwork all over the place.  I hope to find this endearing...and soon!

I have always known he would be devoted to me and our children, and he truly is.  That alone outweighs everything else.  

ISO...me

I took a little break from blogging.  

For a few reasons.  

I have been on a little personal quest of reevaluating some stuff 

and trying to figure some stuff out.

Vague enough for you? 

Yeah, I know.  Me too.

I will say this...I have a secret wish sometimes...

That I could just "Google" my name and find all of life's answers.  

But it wouldn't be much of a life then would it?  Looking back I appreciate crossroads where I needed to rely on heartfelt prayer and inspiration to make hefty choices. 

I have grown from those experiences.

So, as I continue to develop I am hopeful that happiness will accompany me through this trek.

Phew!  

Then, I can get back to blogging about less of this and more of the hilarity in my life.  

Like...

Being flipped off by a grumpy 100 year old lady in front of my 9 year old.

Leon continuing to load 2x4's in his VW Jetta.

The mullet that Sam was sporting and my denial.

Someone cutting in front of me in line, on purpose.

Or...

My latest delicious dish.

My dream job.

Good finds.

So much more...

Reviving Andrea Zuckerman.

In 1990 I wanted to be like Kelly Taylor. 

You know, Beverly Hills 90201. 

She was blonde, sweet and popular.  

But after a 90's New Years party, it is obvious I make a better 

Andrea Zuckerman...

 

Do You See What I See?

What sneaky kids do to find their Christmas gifts early...

Unwrap gifts early and re-wrap.

Cut tape off package, unwrap, re-wrap, and reapply new piece on top.

Search attic with friend.  

Watch friend fall through ceiling.  

Witness friends legs hanging through the ceiling into the laundry room. 

Pretend nothing happened.  

Tell yourself nobody will look up.

Play coy when confronted by angry parents.

Look for empty shopping bags.

Shake and measure wrapped gifts.

This is why I try to find the best hiding spots for our children's Christmas gifts.

Not because this sneaky child is Max, but because it was me.

I do fear that the apple might not fall far from the tree.

This year it seems Max is much more aware and curious.

He's asking questions.

He's offering to carry in shopping bags.

He's putting my things away for me.

The other day he told me to take my time while showering.

Hmmmm.

And so it has begun.

When Life Gives You Oranges...Make Pomanders.

One of the ongoing debates Leon and I have is about our citrus trees.

They are located in the front yard.

Leon says, "Fruit trees DO NOT belong in the front yard."

Followed by, "I'm cutting them down."

And because of such strong opinions, Leon's brother cut down a perfectly good apricot tree.  It gave the biggest and sweetest apricots you could ever imagine.  And then it was gone.  And so was our supply of canned apricots.  And jam.  And cobblers.  And free all-you-can-eat apricot schmorgasborg.

Okay, back to the battle on the home front...

I love our trees.  They give lemons twice a year and softball sized oranges, juicy and sweet...and practically seedless. 

 

As some neighbors borrow a cup of sugar or pinch of salt, ours grab a lemon.  The trees make me feel like I am doing my part for the neighborhood.

I don't take the threats seriously, but just in case I make sure every orange and lemon is used.  

Otherwise waste might just give Leon the excuse he is looking for to crank up the chainsaw.