Wednesday, August 31, 2011


So this long weekend is finally at an end. And not a moment to soon.

It has not been a great weekend.

We started off the mini-break with a weekend long stay at the Peninsula from Friday to Sunday. But instead of being the relaxing holiday we thought it would be it was.... in a word - stressful. From getting rained out which meant no pool time for the kids, to problems with construction noises, John forgetting his CPAP (which gave everyone sleepless nights) and cancelled dinner plans and flake outs, it was like a National Lampoon vacation movie. Only not funny.

When we got home Sunday afternoon one of the pipes in our laundry area burst. Of all the bloody luck. To prevent flooding the whole downstairs area we had to shut off the water main. Which meant the whole house had NO WATER.

It took the plumbers (who thankfully were available even though it was a holiday) 2 days to fix the problem. 2 days. The Medinas were unwashed for 2 days (except for those moments of desperation when we'd turn on the main even though it meant that water was gushing out of the busted pipe downstairs --- sorry Mother Nature! The toilet needs to be flushed!). It was like a National Lampoon home movie. Only not funny.

Oh this weekend. It's like Mercury was in Retrograde or on Gatorade or making Lemonade or whatever it is that Mercury does that seems to louse up people's lives.

And yet. And yet. Every time something new would go wrong John and I would just console ourselves with the thought that a) it could be worse; b) there's a bright side to this.

The rains that kept the kids from swimming forced us to let them hang out in the tub instead. Which they apparently dig more than the pool. Plus it meant that I wasn't forced to get into a bathing suit.

Despite the fiascos with the room --- the sheer size of the suite we occupied gave Livie enough (safe) room to learn how to run. She runs! She runs! Albeit very wobbly but still she's pretty fast once she gets going.

The cancelled dinner plans and flake outs meant we just had dinner at Spices instead with John's sister and our good friend Jaime. At 50% off! With free wine! Altogether not a bad night.

And the water pipe bursting. Well... we finally learned how to work our water tank, how to turn it on and how to fill it. So now if there's ever a water shortage ---- we'll never run out of water again.

So I can choose to focus on all the things that went wrong, or I can choose to let all that negative energy go and just look on the brighter side of things. The things we learned, the memories that were made and the fact that we now have unlimited running water.

Oh, and the best part of all --- this weekend is finally over. :-)

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Happy Birthday Hubby

It has been.... years... since I last wrote you a birthday card. Or note. I guess this is what happens when you buy your own presents and just send me the bill. But hey, whatever works and gets you the present you want... I'm down with that.

But it's late, and I've been feeling sentimental, so I wrote this one for you.


It's easy to list the things you do that irritate or bug the living hell out of me:

How your clothes are always on the hamper, or around the hamper, but never IN the hamper.

Your irrational annoyance with security guards, waiters and motorcycle drivers.

The innumerable times I've had near death drowning experiences in the toilet because you never remember to put the toilet seat down.

Your insistence on squeezing the toothpaste tube in the middle.

Your jet engine like snoring.

The hoarding.

Feeding the kids cheetos and chocolate before meal times.

The perverse pleasure you get out of anonymously poking or pinching my ass in public that has lead me to mistakenly hit several unsuspecting men with my handbag.

And how you're secretly trying to kill me by wiping chocolate stained fingers on MY towels so that the ants attack me fresh out of the shower.

Oh I could go on and on..... And I could.

And I could focus on all these things you do that drive me crazy.

And I'd forget about the things that make me crazy... about you.

How you always hold my hand when I sit in the passenger seat of the car.

How you always think of me when you're buying CDs and buy albums of bands I like or you'd think I'd like. Without asking if I already own them --- which is why we have 3 copies of Dogs Die in Hot Cars and 5 copies of Faded Seaside Glamour by The Delays.

How there isn't an electric appliance or broken toy or device that you can't fix. You are Handy Manny and Macgyver rolled into one.

I remember how you let me sleep on your chest (all 1*& pounds of me) when we lost the babies because I couldn't go to sleep.

How your "Y" genes gave me two beautiful daughters who look nothing alike yet, oddly enough, both look like you.

On the rare occasion that you sing "Deeply Dippy" or play "Born Slippy" it still makes me feel giddy.

How you always call me when you're on your way home because you still miss those times we used drive home from work together and just talk and talk and talk.

And how every so often you will talk to me about work and ask my advice, even though I haven't been a banker in almost 4 years, because you think I'm "still smarter than half the people I deal with".

Oh I could go on and on and on.... And I could.

No matter how frustrated I can get with you sometimes, nothing has ever overshadowed the fact that you are still the best

friend I have, the best person I know, and the best man that you could be.

Happy Birthday dear husband.

Yes, you are still the "jackpot". And to this day I still don't know what the contest was for.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Not So Fast

Hey little girl, what's your hurry?

You have all the time in the world to grow up, and I only have a few short years to call you my little girl.

Already you talk of boys, cold creams, and how embarrassing it is to have people see you being cradled in my arms. So these arms only squeeze you tighter, wishing they could squeeze you back into being my little girl.... knowing they will have to open soon to let you go. To let you grow.

I see you sometimes watching me with sadness and longing when I'm holding your baby sister. Swinging her up and down, holding her tiny hand to help across the room. I don't do these things because I love her more. I do these things because I still can. I'm strong enough to throw and catch her mid-air. I hold her hand to cross the room because she needs me to, she with her shaky and uncertain legs that just learned how to walk.

Would you let me still swing you in my arms (do I have the upper body strength to do so? Hahaha!)? Will you still let me hold your hand as we walk? Often you walk ahead of me, so eager to see what's around the next corner. Or worse --- you run ahead of me, because I'm walking too slowly and you are in a rush to get to what's next.

Slow down. Please. Slow down.

I waited so long for you. Missed so much the first 3 years of your life. Is it so wrong to want to squeeze the most out of every minute we have together now?

My favorite part of the day is when it's time to sleep. Because when we lie down it's time for you to be still. And you'll let me hold you and cradle you in my arms until you fall asleep. And when you do I can spend hours watching you, without you feeling self-conscious of my stare. I can marvel at how big you've grown, how beautiful you've become, and how, when you're asleep, you look more like the little girl you still are, instead of the 7-going-on-40 year old you can sometimes be.

Little girl, what's the rush?

Stay mine a little while longer.