Horton Hears a Glycosidic Reaction

I am still studying Microbiology. I know you are thinking that I sound like a broken record.

And for you younguns' out there who do not understand the terminology of BROKEN RECORD... it means when there is a giant scratch in your record, think large cd's, and Sean Cassidy keeps singing Da Doo Run Run Run over and over...

Sean Cassidy? Oh please... you dont know who that is... David Cassidy (from the Partridge Family)...his half brother...Had a great career as a Hardy Boy?? The boy version of Nancy Drew? Ringing any bells yet?

So back to Microbiology...I finally understand the parts of the cell and I just think of it like fiction that I just have to memorize. And I am sickly addicted to the study of bacteria and disease and viruses...part of my being a doctor on tv addiction I guess. I just consider myself an amateur doctor. Not really doing it for money, just like a hobbie.

Glycosidic Reactions, I dont even know enough to make fun of it. Something about Glucose being broken down into Pyruvic Acid for energy? Where does this take place? oh in the invisible cells of Unicorns that live on the planet Princessland? right now I remember.

So Hubby and Daughter #3 were in the kitchen when my studying came to an abrupt halt when I got to the page on Glycolysis and Fermentation which is not anaerobic respiration even though it doesnt use oxygen either. You dont get it?? Yeah me either and unlike records skipping I cant explain it to you.

And Hubby tried to relate it to something real, like high school, and let me point out that he doesnt understand biology any more than a 2 year old but I see where he was going with it, so heres my version.

I tried to relate it to Horton Hears a Who...do you know the story?

Horton, a giant gentle elephant, finds a world on the head of a ball of dust and no one will believe him, not Maize the lazy bird who later in another story drives to Nebraska and leaves her egg there and Horton adopts it raises it as his own and then she comes back later to take the credit, assuming as the birth bird she can just waltz in and take it back when all the hard work of raising it through sickness and teenagerhood is over...or the Wickersham Brothers who are really just thugs looking to start a fight with the gentleness of Horton who is trying to stick up for a world that cant be seen by the naked eye...are you starting to see the connection here?

Horton tells everyone in the world on the dustball to scream real loud (not like when Pee Wee Herman said the word of the day)anyone??? if you dont get this reference you are too young to be reading my blog.

All the people of the town are supposed to scream so the non believers will hear them and not want to exterminate them just to prove Horton is a nut job who belongs in an institution with the Grinch and that dog who didnt know who his mother was, or that Cat that messed up the house when the parents were away...yeah there is a Dr. Seuss asylum where they all go after the stories are over. And its "realer" than any molecule of pyruvic acid.

yes it is...

Screaming is coming from the ball of dust but Hortons "friends" (and what kind of friends are those really) dont hear it. So Horton tells them to make sure that no one is shirking, that all the Whos in Whoville are screaming....

They run through the town and they find JoJo the Shirker in Apt 12j or something like that (its been a long time since I read that story to my kids... or myself)

and they are like JoJo, you have to scream, we cant do it without you and JoJo is like NO, Obama is winning in the polls I dont have to run out a vote, I can just sit back and hope the rest of our country gets out and does it for me


And he climbed with the lad up the Eiffelberg Tower.
“This,” cried the Mayor, “is your towns darkest hour!
The time for all Whos who have blood that is red
To come to the aid of their country!” he said.
“We’ve GOT to make noises in greater amounts!
So, open your mouth, lad! For every voice counts!”



(Shameless plug for voting for Obama I know, but seriously Get out and vote for him, we cant do it alone)

They convince him to scream and he when he does suddenly the meanies in the story admit that Horton isnt crazy, that there is a world on the head of a dust ball and even though we cant see it, its still there. Horton always believed in them, he just had to get them to believe in themselves and everyone contributing made it happen.

So okay, carbon molecules and mitochondria, make yourself known, the word of the day is Supercalifragilisticexpealidocius, everytime you hear it, scream real loud and when I hear you i will believe you are real too. And so will Chairy, Globy, the Genie and Cowboy Curtis.

We are here, we are here, we are here...

The State of Nebraska has an awesome new law

Funny story...

The state of Nebraska was the last state in this country to institute a safe haven law for people to drop their newborns off at a hospital or police station if they couldnt or wouldnt take care of them.

You know... pregnant teens without a vice presidential candidate mom, or 44 year old woman who arent vice presidential candidates who give birth to downs syndrome babies, or people who arent sisters of famous people that shave their head and dont wear underwear when they get out of cars...

those unfortunate kind of people can drop off their child at any hospital or police station and no questions asked, walk away...

so back to Nebraska... they refuse to pass the law, whatever the reason, they are the last state in the country and I guess they feel left out or people are leaving their babies in corn fields so they decide to pass the law, the safe haven law, the one that is supposed to allow people to drop off their newborns to be safe...

yeah well in their infinite wisdom, and honestly I dont know anyone from Nebraska, this is just coming from my own midwestern prejudice that they are all down home hillbillies, chewing grass and wearing suspenders...

In their infinite wisdom they made the law to state that any parent can bring any child to a safe haven location at any time...

And while I just made fun of the stupidity of Nebraskans I should be patting them on the back to have come up with such a unique idea...

Giving your kids back .... as teenagers.

Now I have not really gone into any teenager bashing on my blog... Mostly because I am in the in between stages, my two older girls are 20 and 21 and the two littler ones although being teenagers technically at 15 and 13 have not reached the pinnacle of bad teenage behavior like D#1 and D#2.

And I know that D#1 is saying what did I do so bad and although she didnt participate in such bad activitities as D#2 she was fresh in a way that only teenage girls can be.

But I can totally see wanting to give them away at that age...

so first some guy drops off 9 of his children, NINE... I dont know if he kept any of the good ones or just made a clean sweep but man they showed a video and that guy was skipping out of there.

Now the story is out there and all of a sudden people start driving across state lines to teenage dump their kids. Its like field of dreams,,, if you build it they will come...

No kidding, this is a real story. Some lady drove from Iowa to drop her 14 year old daughter at a safe haven in Nebraska, because some idiot in the law department forgot to make an acceptable age limit for the safe haven babies.

And then it was like all hell broke loose in middle america, people starting streaming into Nebraska to drop off their teenagers. I think all in all 27 kids were dropped off.

You know there was a rash of people doing this in the 80s and 90s with grannies. They called it granny dumping and basically they would drive their old decrepit grannies who didnt know their own names and leave them at places like the race track and the mall.

It was kind of sad,,, I mean grannies are way cuter than teenagers. Teenagers should be sold on the black market but no one would take them...Until the rocket scientists in Nebraska after holding out for all these years finally made a safe haven law,they just forgot the most important part.

That it is supposed to be for babies, Not teenagers.

I told my friend Ellen this story at work.

And then we mapquested New York to Nebraska. I think it may be worth the trip.

Entropy

I have been away from my blog for a whole week now, mostly because after last weeks humiliating moments with my biology professor, I actually spent the week studying.

That coupled with fasting and atoning for my sins...pretty much took up my whole week.

Over the last week I have had some brilliant blogging ideas in my head, but I resisted.

And now... I got squat.

Really...I think my brain sent me a message the other day that said low disk space. I just dont have any memory left.

Now some people have mentioned that this was because I turned 40. I cant believe that one day you wake up at 40 and poof your memory is gone.

I think more likely what happened was the drugs took it away and ... well... i was too drugged to notice.

In case you are unfamiliar with what I am talking about here is the quick version... yes I can tell it quick...kinda

I woke up with a pain in my neck.

I spent the next 6 months going from doctor to doctor, having them judge me and blame everything other than what was really wrong with me.

And every doctor prescribed a different kind of drug. Nerve drugs, antipsychotics, pain killers, oh lots of pain killers, sleeping pills, anti inflammatories, steroids... the list goes on and on...

And for 6 months I walked around in a stupor... that never took the pain away.

yeah thats right because there was a bone spur broken in my neck that was poking through my disc into a nerve...

Not gonna be fixed with drugs, or shots, or anything other than surgery.

Well that was information that would have been helpful... YESTERDAY!!

Its like you start to think of something and you cant remember the name of a song or a name from your past and you feel like its right on the tip of your tongue...

Well now... its like my tongue has been cut off. No tip. I have tried and tried to think of things that I have forgotten and there is just no connection... no feeling of "maybe if i think a little harder" no nothing...this is your brain on drugs...

So when my biology professor said "Are those held together with ionic or covalent bonds?" and I said "ionic" and the look on his face was of total horror... i couldnt even remember the name "covalent" so I said..."the other one"

Sadly I think this is what stupid people must feel like everday.

And here is my other problem with the whole memorizing of the biology stuff...

Contrary to popular belief, my brain functioning is set in reality...mostly...and I just dont understand certain information such as "...40,000 of these can fit on the head of a pin..."

or "... the second law of thermodynamics is that everything in the world is trying to become more random..."

"Entropy...It is a measure of the randomness of molecules in a system and is central to the second law of thermodynamics and the fundamental thermodynamic relation, which deal with physical processes and whether they occur spontaneously"

Is anyone else scratching their head and screaming... what does that mean and who the hell cares?

ok good... i thought it was just me.

so seriously... I read an entire chapter on beliefs, theorys and laws and what makes each believable to scientists...

Apparently the first and second LAW of thermodynamics is real. To someone. Because its a law and it takes a lot to earn that title. You dont just get to be a LAW, you have to earn it with years and years of science guys trying to prove you are wrong.

But the Big Bang Theory...see the word theory in there, that implies that there is still some questioning going on even among the guys with 4 inch glasses, nose hair and pocket protectors. If they cant even be sure, come on, how can we?

So maybe I dont really believe in molecules and atoms and black holes... maybe although I have spent my whole life shunning religion and peoples BELIEFS, which apparently are way below THEORIES and LAWS in the big bad science world, maybe just maybe I find it more believable that there is a spirit that lives in the sky and judges our every move that created all this.

The trees, the water, the sky, the people, the animals and of course mallomars.

My father is an atheist scientist, which I guess goes hand in hand and he made fun of Noahs Ark recently, thinking it was ridiculous that some ancient bearded guy in the desert could build an enormous boat and convince two of every animal to get on board when a flood was coming.

Yet he believes that in the span of 13.7 billion years, when there was absolute nothingness, at the perfect moment, all things came together and exploded and poof there was a universe...then to keep this absurd thought going further he believes that all the elements that we need for today, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen(yeah that one is pretty important)hydrogen and all the other ones I couldnt possibly remember from the periodic table...were made and mixed together in some kind of wierd soup that created life forms and first there was a cell, then an alligator, then monkeys and then us.

Ok so maybe it took a little more time than that, but basically that is the premise of all life.

And in order to believe that theory, you must also believe in exponents and logarithms and things to the negative power.

Like these parts of the cell I have been reading about. They are measured in nanometers, like 10 to the -7 power.

Yeah and people have trouble believing in Unicorns? Yet they believe that invisible microparticles can transport proteins through our bodies that make us have blue or brown eyes, or make us tall or short?

Not a very believable THEORY, I must say.

So I have been rethinking my plan to become a genetic counselor because apparently although these scientific ideas are just theories, most of these loser geeks in the science world think its REAL.

I think I almost believe more that a giant bunny comes and hides eggs in my house and leaves me candy on Easter...or that Mary was actually a virgin when she gave birth to Jesus...Or that a jolly old fat man with elves knows how much I needed Mrs. Beasley and the easy bake oven and snuck into my house, ate my cookies and left them for me under a giant tree.

Yeah that or dinosaurs? ice ages? wooly mammoths?

Not very convincing.

My brain just doesnt understand abstract... chemistry, geometry, picasso, exercising

I only understand what I can see... or invent in my head...reality...like the tv shows, you know? Real stuff...being stranded in a remote place with beautiful people in dirty underwear trying not to get voted off, or competing with other fatties to burn more weight yet also stay on long enough to win the million dollars...trying to become the BFF to Paris Hilton.

All real, believable and not invisible made up stuff...like the endoplasmic reticulum and ribsomes and DNA,

I mean really its not like reality tv is any way tainted, like the News or Professional sports,

...that may as well be as real as the protons, neutrons, quarks...yeah them and the tooth fairy...

Is that all there is....Grandma's Suitcase

Is that all there is, is that all there is
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is


This is a song by Peggy Lee. I never heard the song but my mother made reference to it the other night.

The night we opened the suitcase.

It is a black suitcase, unmentionable in fact, except for the contents.

My Grandma's suitcase.

My Grandma died April 27th, 2007. I was in the midst of my illness and never really believed she would die. In fact I was sure she was the only person that would live forever.

She was 94, still drove everywhere and worked handing out little samples in the supermarket.

Frequently a box would show up at my door filled with little boxes of cereal or snack bars.

She stole them.

In her defense she believed I needed them more than the little old ladies shopping in Publix in Hollywood, Florida just south of Fort Lauderdale.

I was her favorite. And she let everyone in the family know it.

To defend her(again)I was her favorite because I loved her and was very nice to her. I called her to tell her about the kids, sent her gifts for her birthday and the holidays and spent time with her when she came to visit.

She was a difficult person to get along with (see blog The Muriel Rule).

In February of 2007, she was living in her apartment, working, playing mah jong with her friends, driving around and just enjoying life. She always told me how lonely she was and I felt sad for her for that. My Papa had been dead for almost 17 years and her sisters had been dead for years and one by one her friends had died off as well.

Most people who want to live forever I think underestimate the loneliness when all your loved ones are gone.

My cousin was getting married in Seattle and she wanted to go. She flew off to Washington State and made her grand entrance at the wedding. This was her favorite moment in history when she could have all the attention on herself.

The trip was too much. The flight, the wedding, the hotel... all too much for her.

She came back very sick. And she went downhill fast.

Her kids decided that she could not live alone anymore. She wanted to die if she couldn't. They insisted. She fought back. They told her it would be great.

And then she gave up.

My aunt and my mom got her set up in an assisted living.

She hated it.

They brought what they could to the assisted living and they left the rest behind.

They tried to make it homey, but it just wasn't the same.

My aunt was cruel and treated my grandmother and her stuff like it was crap.

My mother wasn't strong enough to fight my aunt, her older sister.

My grandma wanted to die as soon as she got there. They took away her teeth and her silver shoes and her designer bag and replaced it with house coats and Depends and lots of medication.

She went in strong and independent and in the span of just two months became incoherent and sickly.

I tried to call her and tell her about the kids,about me,and tell her I loved her but she couldn't hear me because they took away her hearing aids.

I sent her a package with a robe, slippers and pictures. She never got it.

She died, alone and sick.

She wished herself to death. She told my mom that she was done. She was sick of living and wanted to be with my Papa.

Everything she owned was packed into boxes, where it sat in my mean aunts garage until it was moldy and broken and neglected.

Months went by.

My uncles wife decided she needed to step in and get between my mother and my aunt who by this time could not even speak without screaming at each other.

She went into the garage, divided up my grandmas belongings and gave each sibling the stuff.

In reality I am sure my aunt took what she wanted, my uncles wife took what she wanted and they left the crap for my mother.

They packed it into a box and gave it to her, mold and all.

My mother went through it, threw out the things that were unsalvageable(is that a word)and packed it into the suitcase.

The one that we unpacked on Rosh Hashanah.

It has been there since last April 2008 when my parents returned from their winter getaway. And we were gonna open it on Passover.

But we were avoiding it.

Until the New Year, Rosh Hashanah, before Yom Kippur, the day of atonement, the day to look forward not back, to leave the past sins of the previous year behind.

So we unpacked the suitcase.

And as you see in the picture, it was just a bunch of crap.

And it made my mom so sad because none of it meant anything to my grandma. None of it reminded us of her life and how she lived.All of that was stolen by my aunt and my uncles wife.

She used to give her things away when she was alive because she said she wanted to see us use it.

When I was living in Jacksonville, I could not for the life of me find a menorah for Chanukah. She sent me hers from Israel and I still use it to this day. I also have her seder plate and Elijahs cup.

And of course I have the ring. The onyx and platinum ring that was my grandmas that my mother gave to me on my graduation from high school that I refused to give away so instead started a new tradition and gave my girls new ones. It says on the inside Grandma to Muriel 1928, my grandmas 16th birthday.

And it is all I really have of hers that is with me every minute of everyday. I never take it off. It connects me to her and to my past and my history in a way that nothing else could.

But is that all there is...is life just about what ends up in a cardboard box at the end of your life.

When hubby went into the Navy, he left everything behind. When he came home the contents of his room was reduced to one single cardboard box. That is how he came into this marriage. With just some old crap.

We have built a life here. We have 8 rooms in this house filled with stuff not including the garage.

There are pictures and books and clothes and furniture and figurines and of course, a whole room of my collectible old retro toys.

And in the end it will not be about this stuff. The stuff I have collected over the years, the stuff we bought when we probably couldn't afford it, the stuff that in the end will maybe make it to the cardboard box.

It has absolutely no meaning.

The things that we all think are so important now, will just be in a suitcase somewhere waiting to be opened. Or they will be sold at a garage sale or on eBay. Or just tossed in the garbage, like my aunt did to most of my grandmas stuff.

The only thing that cannot be reduced to a cardboard box or tossed like old garbage is a memory. A moment in time that cannot be replaced. A connection with someone you love so strong that it is forever implanted in your brain...

The night we got engaged, my wedding, each of my kids births, our cruise, mine and hubby's anniversary trip to the city, the girls first steps, when they left for college, the winning point at the buzzer in the basketball game, the concert at Lincoln Center...

No one can hold these hostage in a damp, humid garage or throw them out or pack them in a cardboard box...

And yes of course I wish I had more money to pay the bills or make our lives a little easier but if it comes to the choice of saving for a rainy day or spending the day doing something with my kids...

There is no choice for me...

I don't need any more stuff for my box.

Its filled with love and memories and a life full of joy and those things don't take up space in my box...

They take up space in my heart...

And there is always room there for more...

It's A Girl February 1995

I saved the best for last.

I hope that line makes up for the fact that I have like 40 posts before I told the story of her birth.

She has been boycotting reading my blog until I wrote it. With that and someone else threatening to boycott if I tell certain stories, I am fearful that my following of like 4 people may be in jeapordy.

So I will tell this story and keep silent on others but just wait for my book... it will all be in there.

In 1994, I was living in a two bedroom condo with 3 daughters, ages 7,6 and 1, a dog, a life, a mortgage, a cancer free husband, a ton of medical bills and very little space.

It was only logical that we decided to have another baby.

We always wanted 6 kids, we never knew how long we had together, (thanks a lot Synovial Sarcoma)we went on with our life as if tomorrow was here and we began our fourth attempt to have a child.

It took about 4 seconds until I found out I was pregnant.

A few days before Fathers Day in June of 1994 I found out we would be having our new bundle of joy due on Hubbys birthday.

So on Fathers Day, I gave him a birthday card which totally confused him and it said, an early birthday present that you can enjoy for 9 months.

Of course this was sarcasm based on the fact that I had spent 2 of the other 3 pregnancys puking everything I ever ate into the toilet, on hubbys shoes or in some random places across Long Island, Boston and Jacksonville.

I have to admit, I dont consider myself a high maintenance kind of girl, but I am a pretty demanding pregnant girl. I have a theory... that no man could ever understand the joy, pain and sorrow that goes into being a mom from conception to well...forever, so they should pay up during the pregnancy in lots of ways.

One of course being the delivery of lots of good snacks, anything, anytime, no questions asked and no oinking allowed.

I ate muenster cheese and pickles constantly with Daughter #1, also Taco Flavored Doritos.

I ate nectarines and hersheys kisses with D#2. I also created lots of my famous specialties of today like lemon chicken when I was pregnant with her, probably why its one of her favorite foods.

The only thing I could eat with D#3 was spicy food, which I threw up anyway but usually stayed a little longer than the rest.

But with D#4... I ate everything, in mass quantities. I think I must have secretly known that it would be my last moments of eating glory, so I did it up big time.

I felt better than with D#1 and D#3, so I cooked and ate and sent hubby out for food all the time. I remember not long before she was born eating Brownie Sundaes every night. Warm homeade brownie on the bottom, ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream...so delicious and fattening.

My doctor told me to stop, that eating for two literally meant having like an extra 500-800 calories per day.

What did he know? He was a man.

And I gained the same amount as with all the other girls... 50 lbs. Whether I threw up every meal or ate brownies every night, it didnt matter. 50 lbs, 4 times, same story.

Now even though I had gained the same amount with each kid and they were relatively the same size when they were born, I knew this wasnt the case here.

I felt her from my neck to my knees. No kidding, this baby was going to be way bigger than the rest.

By 6 months I could barely walk, I felt like she was going to fall out.

And she kicked like a linebacker.

The week of my due date, the doctor was like... you are 4 centimeters dilated already, which is a lot, and it may be quick because it is number 4 so come back in two days and we will make a date to induce you. We dont want you to be in the mall and your water breaks and the baby pops out.

I dont know, would I get a lifetime shopping discount... should I name her Macys or J Crew?

So I come back on February 15th totally planning on going to the hospital and he is like... oh the baby shifted, blah, blah, blah lets wait until Friday...Hubbys
29th birthday.

Major dissapointment when you are about to explode and send an alien like creature through your stomach...

I go home saddened but looking forward to another brownie sundae...

Doctor Idiot (as I refer to him now) says he will call me Friday morning and I will have the baby then because lets face it, I might interfere with his weekend otherwise.

Thursday around noon (and thats 12 for anyone who isnt sure what time noon is)he calls me...Hey Nancy... what are you doing.. oh nothing with a mouth full of brownie sundae... why dont you come in and have the baby now?

For Real???

Yeah for real!!

Oh I get it... I can have the baby and go home by Friday (in those days you left quick) and then you have a free weekend.

I try to beep hubby. Still no cell phones back then, I mean they probably existed but not in our world. No return, beep again, and again and again.

I knew he was working across the street from our house so I grab D#3, who is barefoot and probably still in her pjs and we get in the car and head over to Genovese.

I walk in and the guys he is working with, installing signs, take one look at me and are like, holy crap, you are in labor, Hubby Hubby, they scream, Nancy is here and she is having the baby.

Relax, men can be so irrational around large pregnant women with barefoot toddlers and chocolate smeared on their faces...

No my doctor is lazy and wants the weekend off.

Whew...

I call my mother who says she will come and watch D#3 and wait for D#1 and D#2 to get off the bus.

We head to the hospital without being in labor. It was kind of strange.No running in with my shoes on giving birth in the hallway, no 39 hour labor, no going to the hospital only to be sent home...

When we get to the hospital the nurses are like oh have you been in labor for awhile, Um NO...Water break... Nope... any probems... none my doctor just told me to meet him here.

Apparently that is not good Gynecologist behavior to induce someone for no reason at all. They were not happy. apparently there were many people who REALLY needed to have the baby that day... so many laboring women that there were people on beds in the hallway... everywhere... it was like a pregnant women farm.

Now it just so happened that I had a friend who was a nurse, who had a friend who was an anethesiologist who worked at STony Brook. We see him in the hall and he is like why are you in the hallway.

No beds... too many babies being born today... maybe its a full moon.

A few minutes later.... Mrs. Hubbys Last Name... we have a room for you... the birthing room...

Ok for anyone older or younger who doesnt know what that is...This birthing room thing was a great idea invented in the 80s so that hospitals dont look like hospitals,,, they look like bedrooms...

It was a scam really because when your pelvic bone needs to seperate to 10cm, you dont really give a crap about what color the curtains are.

It was highly desirable at the time to GET the birthing room. First come, first serve. And you could be in labor, delivery and recovery in there. A true one stop shop for baby.

But it was 4pm on a Thursday with people in the hallway,,, why was it empty??

It wasnt... but it was a first time mother in there and my friend of a friend, the anethesiologist, had her removed to the hallway.

Oh the joys of nepitism...it works for me.

They started inducing me at around 5:30pm. They hooked up the IV, and sent drugs into my body to make Daughter #4 come out.

Now before I go on with the story, lets just think about what I just said...they rip the baby out before it is ready...what kind of a attitude do you think you are going to find after you have disturbed the delicate balance of birth???

Yes exactly!

Now the beauty of being induced is that they hook up the epidural around the same time as the drugs because they CLAIM the contractions will be faster and stronger, just like a speeding bullet.

It was a Thursday night in the 90s, it was Seinfeld night and eventually ER, Now I see the joy of the Birthing Room, just like being in my own room watching the famous Thursday night lineup.

Except for the fact that every 2 seconds someone comes in and examines me and says, oh do you mind if medical student so and so examines you, or intern whoever, or tom the janitor...

I love the research aspect of Stony Brook and the teaching opportunities,,, in theory...not when I am about to give birth to a small T-REX.

After a half an hour or so of pushing,,,Ta Da,,,Its a girl,,,

My doctor(and now you will see why I call him Dr. Idiot)says two of the stupidest things I have ever heard(and I have heard some stupid crap in my life)...

First he says "Holy Crap, I think this is a ten pounder" which she wasnt but she was a heavy load...

And then he says "Oh another girl, dont worry you'll try again and have a boy next time, just wear your shoes during conception" And he didnt say it that nicely...I have changed the wording to protect the little ears that will be reading this...oh I guess that would be little eyes...anyway...he was vulgar...

I may have mentioned this once or twice...I never really wanted a boy...Maybe with D#1 I thought I wanted a boy because I never had an older brother... but after that... nope four girl suited me JUST FINE...

I was in my room upstairs by 11ish. She was born at 9:55pm on a Thursday.

I was home by 7:30pm on Friday. No joke..
Being a seasoned mother I was happy to go but some of the new moms were totally unprepared.

I believe they reimplemented a mandatory 48 hour rule for new moms. Good Idea...

Like I said... I was a very experienced mom of 3 already...so I came home put her bed and planned on getting some sleep.

WRONG... she woke up every hour to eat. WOW this is wierd... maybe in the hospital they stalled the babies but not even D#2 was this hungry and she never slept either.

Well to make a very long blog a little shorter...

She never slept... not ever... she ate every second she could be eating...She was 8 lbs 11 1/2 ounces when she was born and 21 1/2 inches. By ten days old she was 10lbs and 22 inches.

By two years old she was taller than D#3.When we tried to take stuff away from her she would hold it over her head, even when she was only 34 inches tall...she knew someday she would be able to do that and we wouldnt be able to get it.

Now she is taller than us all, including Hubby. 5 ft 9 1/2inches and still growing like a weed. Actually like a sunflower...

because although there were moments in her life when I would have sold her for a sack of beans...I wouldnt trade her for the world now...

She was a hungry baby that didnt sleep. As a toddler she spent so many times in the emergency room, they wanted to call child protective services on me.As a kid in elementary school, she began to shine as a warm loving person that would help anyone who needed her.

2008...13 years old when other kids are going bad...talking fresh... behaving poorly...hanging out with a bad crowd...not D#4...

No she is in Peer leadership where she helps other kids solve their conflicts...she is in student council and works hard to make the school a better place...she plays tennis, volleyball, basketball(for the school and a travel team)and runs track...she is in all honors classes...

She is always chosen to give tours to new kids or help parents find their way on open school night...last year she was on the committee to design the new student organizer...captain of the rely for life team to raise money for cancer...all chosen by the principal...

D#4 is tall and beautiful...watch out Mr.J and Tyra...Americas Next Top Model, we are waiting until she turns 18...

she is smart and funny... and loving.... so loving and caring it can bring tears to your eyes...

If I sound like I am bragging I am... because I spent a lot of years complaining to anyone who would listen...

And I almost gave up... more than once...I wanted to sell her on the black market but I knew it would be like the Randsom of Red chief... where they steal the kid but he is so bad they bring him back...

She drove me nuts... literally... I wonder why there are no pictures from 1995 or the few years after... I was too busy banging my head against the wall, murmuring incoherently...

And there are times when that spark of evil comes back into her eyes... like at Outback when she blows the straw into Hubbys face or when I tell her to stop sticking her fingers in the sour cream and she does it just one more time...

But I see her wings also, peaking out from under her pink hair and I know she is an angel, sent to keep us on our toes and to always remember that there is more than one way to look at things...she may tower above us but she bends her knees and hugs you tight and sees the world through beautiful blue eyes that are always looking to make this world a better place...

she has made ours that way just for being here...






side note...not sure if you can tell in this picture but the morning of her Bat Mitzvah, we were so happy that she had made it with no broken bones, teeth or concussions...minutes before she is about to get dressed we are all sitting in my bed and she comes in holding her head... i hit my head on the medicine cabinet she says...hahaha we laugh, until she moves her hand away...

Hubby I say... does that need stitches...

just another day in the life of my sassy lou.

Still I Aint Seen Mine, No I Aint Seen Mine....

That is a Kid Rock song in case you are wondering.


I said it too many times
And I still stand firm
You get what you put in
And people get what they deserve
Still I ain't seen mine
No, I ain't seen mine
I've been giving just ain't been gettin'
I've been walking that there line
So I think I'll keep on walking
With my head held high
I'll keep moving on and only God knows why
Only God, only God
Only God knows why


I am sure you are wondering how I could be blogging when I have an insane amount of homework to do.

Here is the deal...

I was going to blog yesterday because even though I wanted to do my homework, I couldnt because lo and behold my books were trapped in the car, which was trapped in Perth Amboy. There was also a box of mallomars trapped in the car. I wondered if they were ok, how they would make it without me. I love my mallomars and they love me.

But....we were out of toilet paper and deodorant, two things that could cause some serious social awkwardness if we went too long without either. Picture public restroom with overflowing cesspool. Not a nice smell.

So I had to go buy those things and stock up on things Ellen and I could eat for lunch because seriously my day was so sucky yesterday I almost ate a 2 foot by 2 foot rice krispie treat, ok not really, I mean it doesnt even have chocolate on it

What I mean is the potential to quit diet number 13,847 was strong with the day I had yesterday and the whole freakin week.

AS always ...I digress.

I couldnt blog yesterday because of the toilet paper issue, the fact that I had to figure out how to get 1000 dollars off of my credit card into my bank account so Hubby could pay for the car, and then my friend called at the perfect time to distract me...

So here I am, with all my books sitting rudely, taunting me in the back of the car, I am just going to ignore their hating tone and keep blogging, because I feel like it. And since I also feel like eating candy and cookies and french fries and I cant do that, I decided not to sacrifice anything else for today and just indulge in some other self defeating behavior.

Here goes...

Finally...Right?

I briefly mentioned that we have bad luck.

That is an understatement.

And before you get really judgemental and say "People make their own luck" let me just say I spent 5 years in therapy, working on my issues and for real my therapist used to say.."Wow Nancy I could have a whole day full of patients and when you come in your stories top them all"

I have blown away my therapist. That should tell you what kind of things are constantly happening in my life.

We broke a few mirrors in my day and if that was 7 years for each, well it should be over somewhere around the 22nd century. Can you pass broken mirror bad luck to your kids or does it go with you to the grave? Not sure... I better check that out and potentially I should have the whole family drink poison KoolAid in order to break the spell.

Like I've said before I used to pray to GOD but seriously it was just like with Job from the bible, but I am not as biblical so I couldnt keep saying Ok God if you want to take away everything I have, great because obviously you know more than me. Um no... I have had enough and I gave GOD an ultimatum and he didnt come through so until he redeems himself, no more praying for me.


Let me begin with our car bad luck which seems to be the theme of the week...

We buy a 1988 Pontial Grand Am, silver, we had a Pontiac Sunbird before that but it was a demo car with a few miles on it so technically the Grand Am was our first new car. And it was so cool.

We had it a few years and the paint started to peel. So we contacted the manufacturer and by the way with no internet, not as easy as you think. And they say, too bad. Then we see multiple silver grand ams with peeling paint..so we call again and we fight back and forth and they finally agree to repaint the car, that it maybe is a defect in the paint color and not the fact that we lived in Florida that caused the paint to peel. DUH!

the car is freshly painted and hubby is coming home from work in a hurricane and the car stalls outside of our development from the heavy rain or who knows what. Hubby gets out of the car, runs home in the hurricane and figures we will get the car the next day when the hurricane moves on.

when we go to get the car the next day...it is submerged in a puddle the size of Lake Michigan.. ok maybe not that big but the car was more than halfway under water. We try to start it and move it out of the puddle... big mistake... it blew the whole engine and we had to pay 2500 dollars to get it replaced.

PS we only had one car at the time so that was it, we had no choice but to fix it. I think we actually got insurance money back because of the hurricane but in any case, car #1 bad luck.

We have owned old crappy cars and they are always more trouble than they are worth so we finally agree to spend more money to get a better quality used car.

Now as you know with the words SUCKER permanently tatooed to our foreheads, it is hard to get a good deal on anything. They take one look and go, oh great we have a SUCKER here, they will take anything.

So hubby goes to buy this Chrysler LHS, the people brought it up from Florida but there is some story about the miles being wrong on the title, some crazy story about it being owned by an old lady who accidentally checked the wrong box on the title application,

Yes of course now it sounds ridiculous but at the time No not so much.

The car is literally a nightmare from day one. Not only does it have this problem that it shakes when you drive it but no mechanic we ever brought it to could figure out why. They thought it was a computer thing, so we replaced that... no, not fixed...shocks. not that either, lots of other car words that I dont understand... uh uh. No one could figure it out and we couldnt even sell this car because the title claimed that the mileage was tampered with or that it wasnt original miles. blah blah blah the car is a pain in the ass..

So it gets hit in the parking lot at hubbys shop by the ditzy receptionist who backs into it. And he gets it fixed. And then the crane at the shop backs into it. Bad luck? For serious?

Now with the exception of the fact that someone died in this story it would be classic.

The car is back in the shop to be fixed for the second time for being hit in the parking lot of hubbys shop within weeks of each other.

The car is finally done and waiting for Hubby to pick it up. it is parked on the curb at the shop and out of nowhere, a car comes careening through the sky and wails right into hubbys car so hard... the car is totaled.

Turns out some women had a heart attack at the wheel of her car and hit Hubbys just fixed Chrysler LHS so hard, she is decapitated. Ok seriously they are pretty sure she was dead from the heart attack but has anyone else ever had this happen to their car?

Now granted the lady who hit hubbys car was having worse luck that day than us and Hubby wasnt in the car and we did get some insurance money to buy the Nissan Murano that up until yesterday was stuck in Perth Amboy.

But...I dont know it just seems ridiculous.

Cars are not the only thing that we have trouble with. It is all electrical things like icemakers, dryers, washing machines, oil burners, anything that can go wrong at the worst times usually does.

The washing machine backed up into the basement... at 2pm on Christmas Eve.

The cesspool overflowed at 2pm on Christmas Eve and we couldnt use any water or the toilets until we begged someone to come and fix it.

The oil burner craps out at 10pm on sundays so many times it is comical.

We have a pretty good sense of humor about this stuff. We have to.

because lets face it...there are always worse things like brain injuries and death and cancer and melted mallomars.

I could go on and on but my battery is dying on my computer... oh another electrical malfunction??

so the moral of the story is when life hands you lemons... grab a shot of tequila and some salt and give me a call because in the end... its a story to tell and i live for that.

So I think I'll keep a walking with my head held high...

I keep moving on but only god knows why.




Just another car story for another time...

I picked a bad week to give up crack

This story is epic.

I wish I could say it was one of a kind but since my life is full of chaos and drama and just plain old bad luck, there are more of them to follow.

This is just the most recent.

We spent the weekend in DC. And it was great. We got down there in record time and got to see Daughter #2's apartment. We had a really nice dinner and breakfast and we were really sad to have to leave. We havent seen daughter #2 since the summer and we have all really missed seeing her beautiful face and hanging out with her. It was short but sweet and up until the moment when it all went bad, it was so good.

It is always as we re-enter NY that our trip quickly goes to hell.

We listen to the radio and there is traffic everywhere. So we decide to get off on the outerbridge crossing and come through Perth Amboy and Staten Island.

We get off the exit and we are sitting in traffic and hubby is like "what is wrong with the car?" And I am like what... he says the car isnt working, can i get over to the side of the road?

We coast over and pull onto the side of the road. Click, click, click, click.

Nothing...the car has just died in mid drive and we are in New Jersey, its getting dark and the traffic is whizzing by at an alarming rate of speed.

Oh this is why people have Triple A. Now I get it.

We try all the typical things that people who are not mechanics do. We turn the car off, we turn it back on, click, click.

We unplug the battery and replug it. click, click. Nothing.

Our mechanical skills seem to be seriously lacking.

We unscrew the gas cap and rescrew it. My idea really. Shockingly it doesnt work.

Then we do the sit there and wonder idea. Should we call someone? We are still 2 hours away from home. Hubby calls a friend. No answer. I call 411. Hey is there such a thing as Roadside Assistance? Lets not forget it is a Sunday night in New Jersey. Not the best place to be.

They connect me with a towing company, ok I guess this is better than standing here hoping that the car will magicly start.

The tow truck comes and hooks up Hubbys baby.

Have I mentioned that I just paid the last car payment about 30 days ago?

Yeah that is what I mean about the bad luck.

We all squeeze into the tow truck with the very large tow truck man. It was an extremely tight fit. We only took what we could carry. And that barely fit into the tow truck with us.

We head off into the night, riding atop this tow truck, joking because that is the only thing we know how to do in a crisis.

Hey there could there possibly be a train station near by because at this point this is our only way home?

Our friendly tow truck driver says, yeah NJ transit is just a few minutes from here.

WooHoo, this is our best luck so far.

We arrive in Shadyville, and he drops us off at the train station. Shady, really shady.Its 8:30 by this point, dark and we are somewhere in Perth Amboy.

I call my mom, hey dont panic but we are stuck in NJ. I text D1 and D2... Funny Story we are stuck in Perth Amboy, if we dissapear look for us in the scariest place we have been stuck in awhile. See picture above.

I say to D3 and D4, do you have your ipods, my laptop, the gps, all our cell phones, oh we forgot D4's 125 dollar calculator...

Mom... sshhhsshhh... we are in the ghetto and you are naming about 3000 dollars worth of electronics we have on our bodies... be quiet...

The train comes in about 25 minutes ... well how lucky are we?

We ask people who clearly do not speak English whether or not this train is headed for Newark.

They do the I dont understand you yes headshake.

We get on the train which is packed, not sure why, and head off to Penn Station. 1 hour to Penn and because we are so lucky the train from Penn Station to Ronkonkoma is leaving about 25 minutes after we get in.

We arrive in Ronkonkoma at 11:35pm and my dad is there to pick us up with my little doggie Clover.



We get home after midnight and start calculating what we left in the car and how we are gonna get the car back and what the cost will be and how hubby is getting to work..

suddenly all the joking stops...

and reality sets in...

and it sucks...

and that is why this was a bad week to give up crack... because i could have used some mind altering ben and jerrys and being on a diet right now just doesnt cut it...

Life for us is always about this kind of stuff... bad luck, crap all the time...

but it could have been worse and since we have an appointment at Sloan Kettering this week... I will take the car breaking down as the bad stuff this week... no more please... i dont think my diet will make it through.