Under the Knife...

For all you out-of-towners, Sydney will finally be getting that gargantuan thing of her left cheek! We took her to the Dermatologist and he said it was a Spitznuvess...that's just an ugly name for a juvenile benign melanoma. Of course the thing can't just be frozen off, Sydney has to get all high falutant on us and have the operation performed on her by a plastic surgeon (wow, she's starting early!). So our adorable little one has to be put under anesthesia and have the damn thing surgically removed. And, yes, it HAS to be removed because of the rapid growth of the little bugger the chances are good that it could turn malignant. Waaa...sniffling...I'm sure I'll be a wreck on Monday. The doctor assures us that they will take the utmost care of her and the entire thing will only take 30 minutes. She'll have 4 stitches that I have to guard with my life or she'll have to have her arms taped down so she doesn't mess with it and increase the chances of an ugly scar...I swear I will check myself into a mental hospital if that has to happen. Can you imagine how PISSED she will be? Wow. The stitches will come out 4 days later and she will have a permanent scar. He said that by the time she is a teenager it will barely be visible based on the placement (it's in that little curvy part next to the nose). Sad. I know. So everybody, and I mean everybody, needs to be thinking about the little toot on Nov. 6 at 7:45am. Kay?
Here is the last look of the spitznuvess :

On a lighter note, we went to her 15 month check-up today and all systems are a go. She is 22 lbs. (yes, that's it) and 29 inches. 50 percentile for both. I swear she looks so much chubbier than that. Anyway, she was way in the mood to impress and was showing Dr. Julie her entire repertoire of animals, singing and such. Dr. Julie looked at her standing and said that she's fine, just choosing not to walk. So, there's that. No need to worry.

Happy Halloween people!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Captured: One Very Drunk, Bald Hispanic Man

So everyone knows what a freak I am about daylight savings. Kids went to bed late in hopes that they would sleep late. So, thanks to my annoying cold, I started coughing around 5:15 (really 6:15 to me). Sadly, it wakes Wade up who then realizes that he is starving and heads downstairs for a little snack. Not 5 minutes later he is back upstairs turning on all the lights,
"There's somebody in our backyard and he's trying to break in!"
"Well, call the cops!"
"I am!" (he then proceeds to get his gun from the top shelf of the closet)

Panic ensues as he calls 911 and is telling the dispatcher the details. We are both sitting on the stairs at this point when we hear the crazy bastard trying to OPEN OUR SIDE DOOR! which is locked, no thanks to me. Wade: "You guys better hurry he's trying to get in and I've got a gun." Me: "Wade, go put the gun up, we're not shooting anybody!" At which point the man takes off (I'm assuming here because we heard the patio door slam REAL LOUD).

A few minutes later the cops show up (you all know this is my favorite part) and I then spy on them from the upstairs bathroom window. They've got guns drawn and are all over our backyard, backhouse and side porch. Once it was established that the guy was indeed gone, he knocks on the front door REAL LOUD. Thankfully Wade put the gun up and we then go outside and Wade begins telling him that he actually saw the guy (which I didn't know at this time) and said he was a light-skinned black or hispanic guy, bald with a coat on. I have to say I was pretty impressed seeing that all this happened so fast and is was very dark still. So the cop said, "do you think you could identify him because we have someone in custody." Wade, of course said that he could and here comes another cop car with the guy inside. I then turned to Wade and said, "now really look at him and don't just say yes." So, the guy gets out of the car and it was almost comical because he was a bald (well, almost, he has like a very short haircut), hispanic and a blue coat on. Wade goes, "well, I'm not sure now, thanks Ginny" Oops. I kinda psyched him out by telling him to be sure.

ok. So it's about 6am at this point and I head back upstairs. It turns out that Wade had called our security guys before 911 who zoomed over here before the cops had shown up and actually saw the guy walking down our driveway, croutch between the neighbors car and then begin walking down the street. The security guy says, "can I help you?" to which the guy ignores and keeps walking (or staggering based on his level of drunkeness). The security guy decided to follow him because he looked suspicious and then flagged the cop down.

Bingo, bango. Perp in custody.

Why he was trying to come into our house is beyond me...maybe the couch looked cozy:)

Now, onto the most amazing part about this whole story...both kids slept til 7. Whoda thunk it!

Grace-isms Part I

I know I have been writing a lot about the ever-changing, always-darling Sydney. Today I thought I would hit ya with some funny Grace-isms that she's let out lately.

1. After getting some dessert from Deep Fork with her friend Anna she says, "Triple Score!!!!!!!!!!!"
2. She asked me if (her uncle) Matt was a teenager. I said yes to which she replied, "why is he so nice then?" Good point.
3. When something potentially bad happens she lets out, "SNAP!" Really don't know where she got that one because the only person I know that says that on a regular basis is Ashli's husband, Chris.
4.She says "Garvage" for "Garbage" and "velt" for "belt".
5. When I told her Sydney would be getting her "mole" removed she asked, "will it come right back when she looks at daddy dad?" (my dad has a mole in the same spot as Sydney)
6. She brought up the fact that she wants a brother (ha!ha!)to which I replied, "Oh I really don't want to do that again, Grace." She then reminded me, "yea, that would mean your stomach would have to get all filled up with air again and you would be HUGE like last time!!"
7. And the #1 funniest thing she has said to date. We were talking to our nanny, Raye, the other day and she asked if she could move in with us. Raye said, "But Grace, where would I sleep?" to which Grace replied, " I know, you could sleep on top of my daddy!" I shit you not, she said that. Raye and I looked at each other and started rolling. To which Grace got angry and huffed off for laughing at her. Some laughs I can stifle, but that was not one of them!

There are plenty more that I'll post at a later date!

Goodbye USPO...forever!!

Why is it everytime I go to the post office there is a line a freakin' mile long? I swear to the heavens. I went in there to put some stamps on my envelopes to mail to the IRS and I stood in line for 15 minutes. in the same spot. without moving. I finally had to leave after making not one tiny step forward.

It's like the postal workers don't even notice that there are 25 people in line, 5 of them ladies over the age of 90. They just continue to talk to each other like they're on their lunch break. One woman had the nerve to actually go in the back and put the packages in the correct spot. Now, I'm all for putting the shit in the right spot, but, for God's sake, just put it on that little ledge behind you until the line dies down. And then there was the guy who hogged one postal worker for the entire 15 minutes that I was there. Oh, boy, they were having a gay old time just chatting about how much this versus that would cost and while you're at it, how much would this be? It was ridiculous.

And it happens EVERY time I step foot in there. I just slapped a whole bunch of stamps on the damn envelopes and flew to pick Grace up at school. I'm officially done!!!!!!!!!

Please humor me

I know, it seems that I only post things about Sydney on this blog. But really, she's the one going through all the damn changes and doing the super-cute-baby-things. Everyone that knows me, knows that I also talk about Grace (although lately she has been more of a thorn in my side!). Next post will definitely be dedicated to her. But, for now, here is that little crazy girl doing what she does best!

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Baby Got Back

Look at that bootie! Why is it that my children have such full figured bottoms. I mean mine isn't petite by any stretch of the imagination, but my God, those kids have got some junk in the trunk!

to all my peeps

Dear Internet friends!
This is Sydney here, and I just wanted to let everyone know that they can just stop worrying about me RIGHT NOW! I here you people talking about me (right in front of me no less!) And I just want to set the record straight: I'm a lazy ass! and simply am not walking because...I don't want to! I can crawl faster than I can walk and, frankly, think it's kinda funny to worry my mom. I stand up, she asks me to walk to her and I simply sit down. Now that's comedy. I'm leaving you with this little video of me taken by my mommy (God, her voice is annoying!) just to prove to you all that I can put weight (heavy as it is) on my cankles/feet. Enjoy!


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Love,



AKA the wimpy warrior AKA the crusher AKA the biatch

Life Changing

I ran across this poem/story on another blog that I randomly read. Often times I think about how much my life has changed since having children, but it's always more than I can explain. This is the first thing I've read about motherhood where I actually thought, "YES OH MY GOD YES THIS IS WHAT I"M TALKING ABOUT!!!!!!!!" Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of starting a family.
"You think I should have a baby?"
"It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.
"I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations..."

But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. Want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so profound that she will forever be vulnerable. I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.

I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a mama bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moment's hesitation. I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.

I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. Right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom. However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.

Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give it all up in moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years - not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish hers.

I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor. My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby's bottom or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.

I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving in defense of children. I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my children's future. I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts.

My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes.
"You'll never regret it," I finally say.
Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings. This blessed gift ... that of being a Mother.

Single Parenthood

I swear to God, some days I know exactly how it feels to be a single parent and...IT SUCKS!! Wade is working soooo much lately and this was the second Sunday where he has been gone all day and night. I took Sydney to church after the service (Grace went with my godparents) to see the unveiling of our new Sunday School area and by the time we walked and walked and walked to see the new rooms my arm felt like it was going to fall off. It really was getting numb. You simply take for granted the, "here you go, honey" factor. There was NOONE to give her to and I couldn't put her down for a good 20 minutes. By the time we got to the car I wanted to close my eyes and the whole thing took just under an hour. Whew. The day was so damn long. Now I know some of you reading this are probably cursing and telling me to cry a f*cking river, but unless you have a spouse that is gone more than he is there, you have to feel the tiniest bit sorry for me. Sure, there are perks to be married to my husband. He is an incredible person. Very sweet, loving and (of course) hardworking. He brings me food home on a regular basis and has never said one negative thing about my lack of homemade food. And when I do cook he acts like it should be on the Deep Fork menu. So really, this is less about him as a person and more about how sucky it is to be the wife of an overacheiving maniac! So really, is there really any wonder why my kids go to bed so damn early?

Sorry it has taken me so long to put up a new post, but my week has been sooooo busy. As most of you know I started work this week. WEEEEEEE!! I was very worried last week just because I wasn't really sure exactly what I would be doing and then add to that my fear that I was doing the wrong thing (you know, the mommy guilt). But now that I have worked 2 days, my fears are all but gone. I LOOOVVVVEEE IT! I know, I'm weird, I'm making less per hour than my "nanny". Please don't do the math, it's embarrassing. But the work itself is exactly what I had hoped. My official title that I wear on the badge around my neck is "forensic interviewer" which I thought sounded pretty cool and also slightly intimidating because I've never actually been trained in interviewing, per se (although I've done more of it than almost anything). So anyway, blah, blah, blah...What I am doing specifically is working with the public defenders interviewing their clients and their parents before their preliminary hearing. I try to get as much information about them as to aid in their defense. Get it? Any-the-who the work is soooo interesting and frustrating all at the same time. Most of the kids I am working with are in the juvenile detention, which is basically kiddie jail, but once I am in the courtroom the lawyer puts me to work, meeting with the kids and their family members. Plus, I spend 90% of my day in court, which everyone knows is my FAVORITE thing.
Sigh.
I'm so tired though. The work is intense and by the time I get home my legs feel like they are going to fall off my body. Hopefully I'll get used to that soon. You will not find me complaining however. It's so refreshing to think that I am actually putting to good use my training and education! FINALLY! Okay, enough about all that!

The girls are fantastic and as far as I can tell haven't been affected by the slight change in the routine. Although, my first day of work Sydney kept saying, "BYE" to me at least 30 minutes before I left. True, it could be her crazy psychic ability, but I really think it's because I was dressed with shoes on as opposed to my robe and slippers. She's a weird one though. Oh, and she's on a break from that walking thing. Who-da-thought. Two steps and she's done. Grace is also doing well although she did get put in time out at ballet the other day for laughing. I'm sure it won't be the last time as I remember continually getting in trouble at school for too much talking AND my mom used to as well. She really doesn't stand a chance.

Have a great week.
I'm praying for you Merle.

The Leash

I know other people that I read have posted about this topic before, but I just have to add my two cents. The other day Sydney and I were at Gymboree for a little fun and afterwards were headed to City Bites for a little lunch and along the way we encountered a mom and her two kids. The little girl was about 3 and the little boy was 5. For some ungodly reason the little boy was forced to wear a leash. Now, when I first saw them, my immediate response was horror. And then, trying to be a better person, thought to myself, "who knows, maybe the little guy is a holy terror and had done something horrible in the past which would warrant a human leash." So, we happened to be heading in the same direction and I just listened. The little girl was running around like a bat out of hell with the mother continuously trying to reign her back to them. The little boy kept asking his mom, "WHHHYYY DO I HAVE TO WEAR THIS" and "MOMMMMMY LET ME GET OFFFFFFF." The mom continued to say (loudly), "No, so-and-so this is a far as you can go." Hmm. Perplexing. We all reached City Bites together and at this point was feeling really sorry for the little guy. He was obviously embarrassed (rightly so) and really didn't seem to be that wild and crazy. So I took the opportunity to ask his mom a few questions while we were all standing in line. "how old is he?" "He's 5." "Must have made you run after him a few times (laughing)." "No, I just don't trust him." "Oh." Are you kidding me? That was not the response I was expecting. It was so vague and almost paranoid that I couldn't even think of a comeback for that one.
What do you guys think? Isn't that peculiar? I mean I can almost understand the damn thing if they were walking up May Avenue, but Northpark Mall?!? It's the least busy mall and really, what could he have done? Stolen jewels from B.C. Clark?

One Giant Step for Mankind...

O.K.,it may not be that big of a deal, but the big girl actually took one step. And then sat down. It was last Saturday and Ashli witnessed it as well. It was such a teensy step that I had to ask her if it counted and if I should put it in the baby book. Of course I'm going to! Anyway, I got her to take 2 steps today at ballet so yay!!! for Sydney. She's actually contemplating the idea of joining the human race and walking on her hind legs!
Not a whole lot more to report except that my once obnoxious baby has turned back into the lovable creature that I used to know and adore. She has stopped screaming irrationally and crying unexpectedly and is a whole lot more fun than the past couple of weeks so yay!!! for Sydney.
Sure wish I could post some new and adorable pics of my little ballerina and my little walker (ha!) but I'm still waiting for the thingy to arrive in the mail, so until then...AufWiedersehen!

For some of you that are wondering the interview went grrrreat! I met with the public defender on Wednesday to talk about where they could use me and he came up with occasional part time work at the Juvenile Center on Classen and 57th. They seem to be having problems getting those kids to open up and talk about their lives. Imagine that. Most of these kids have been abused and/or neglected their entire lives and can't trust a flea. I don't know if I can make any head way, but surely I'm better suited than some underpaid lawyers. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure they are pretty good at what they do, but trying to get an adolescent to talk is hard under the best of circumstances. So we'll see. I'm supposed to call him back on Monday to find out the final word. Again, wish me luck. I have never worked with kids (except my own, who are on the opposite spectrum of abused/neglected) and from everyone I've talked to, they are by far the toughest population because they feel invincible and haven't fully grasped consequences. So there you go! I'm way excited to put my skills to use. Let's just hope I don't screw them up more!

Now onto the fireball, aka Sydney Robin. She's killing me. Jamie, help me out here. How old was Max when he went through that phase where all he did was cry/whine/grunt/moan? I remember asking you at the time what was wrong with him and you mentioned that he was going through a phase. And then I slightly remembered those random obnoxious phases that they go through. So anyway, she's definately going through something. It's like she is happy one minute playing and then she'll just be furious and start bawling/screaming. I know I need to practice patience but since I waited so long between kids I have competely forgotten all the little phases and quirks that go along with it. Blah. Blah. Blah. Boring fodder for all of you. I need to just get over it!

The Labors of Labor Day

Let's all spell it together T-E-E-T-H-I-N-G. I have to admit, I would secretly scoff at the moms who complained about their children cutting teeth. I would think to myself, "oh, it can't be that bad" or "it's just an excuse for their babies being soooo grumpy." But people, I eat my words. And I rarely do that. This baby has never had so much saliva in her entire life. But, see, that's the good part. She is so utterly pissy that I can barely stand to be in the same room with her. Apart from her getting upset from everything to not being able to turn pages fast enough or the dog barely tapping her precious little shoulder, she can't eat. You people that know Sydney know this it the equivalent of me finding out that the DVR didn't tape Big Brother. This has sent her over the edge. If it has any texture to it, she bawls. I've had to feed her malt-o-meal for every meal the last 2 days. And this is very upsetting for the rest of the family as well. Gone are the days of semi-peaceful meals where my biggest issue was not being able to feed her fast enough. She just sits in her highchair and screams. Snacks for appeasement are gone for now. And I really feel sorry for her because I know it must really hurt. But she's KILLING ME!! a slow and very painful death. If you ever find out that you only have an hour to live, come to my house for that hour and I promise it will feel LIKE FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!

So unfortunately, our Labor Day sucked which pisses me off because Wade actually had 2 days off in a row (kinda) and they were spent running around trying to make the baby happy which was a goal unreachable...that is, until the sweet time of 7pm when I lay her down and just walk away. That was my favorite part of Labor Day. Sad, no?

How was your Labor Day? Was it filled with peaceful playing and laughing children?

Lil help fellow bloggers

As you can see, I have this cute little slide thing on the top. How the hell do I get it to center? It looks like it's about to fall off the page. Brooke? Jamie? I know both of you probably know, so help me PLEASE! Also, while you are helping me, let me know how to change my template from the boring ole blogger templates. I know you can download other ones from the internet, but I don't know where to cut and paste on my template? Help? A little?

Life may be a changin'

Sorry to say that, no, I have not found the thingy and am decidedly blaming someone else for the loss. I have looked in all my favorite hiding spots to no avail. I am sorry Brooke, but I guess you'll have to truck your ass back to Oklahoma to see that baby. Or maybe Ashli will one day get a computer.

Annnnyway, it's time for this monotonous mother to make a change. And that is coming in the way of employment. Like a job. Yep, it's time to get my juices flowing again and enter the world of work. Call me crazy, but I actually have a higher education that I spent tons of money on, only for me to sit on my ass (ok, I'm usually on my feet, but you get what I'm saying) and let all those skills go to waste. I actually have an interview with someone next week were I will beg and plead him to hire me part-time...I will definitely give details next week if I get the job.

Are you wondering why I would do such a thing? I'll tell you, plain and simple: I'm bored out of my everylivingmind!!!!!!!!! I love my kids, but now that Grace has started school, I find my self slightly lonely. I asked myself what is so different about this year seeing that Grace went to full-time pre-k last year. And then it dawned on me: I don't have my mom to hang out with. She would always come over, hang out, make lunch or Syd and I would go over there for chatting. I've got to get out of this house and do something that I enjoy so I can then come home to my children and enjoy and appreciate them as well.

No, I don't know if it is the right decision. But if I don't see what's out there I feel like I will regret it down the line.

Wish me luck!
And Happy Labor Day weekend!

annoyed beyond belief

I'm tired of my previous post about the 90's. I have 5 pictures of Stella to post that show how big and cute she is getting. BUT I CAN'T FIND THE THINGY THAT CONNECTS THE CAMERA TO THE COMPUTER. This is the kind of thing that drives me absolutely batshit. I'm one of those people that sees this "thingy" and says, "I sure would hate for this to get chewed up by the dogs or the baby, I'll just put it 'here'.

Except I can only remember where 'here' is about half of the time. I know this only lends itself to my complete and utter disorganization. And it pisses me off.

Now I'm sure some of you are wondering how anyone could be this disorganized when one has a housekeeper. Believe it or not, this really only adds to the disorganization problem (I know, cry me a river!). But really, sometimes I'll put the "thingy" in a specific spot only to find it months later piled with a bunch of other "thingy's" and I'll think to myself, "self, there is no way you put that thingy with all those other thingy's right there." But really, I know this problem is mainly mine and I'll continue to work at it, day in and day out, probably for the rest of my life.

So, I'm off to continue my mad quest! Hopefully new pictures will follow!

The 90's

My anniversary has come and gone, but I thought it would be fun to take us through a path down memory lane, a montage of what would be the future Mr. and Mrs. Starr. I'm sure you are now jumping for joy with the excitement!!!!!!!!!!


This first picture was taken in 1995 the year that we met. Dare I tell you that I was a mere 22 years old (Wade was 25!) Don't we look the same! Just kidding, we look like babies.









This next picture was also in 1995, on our first trip to Las Vegas (we went together a mere 3 months after our first date...wasn't I so spontaneous and fun! Just like now! Not!) Once again, looking so young and in love. Take note of my fingernails, they're blue! WOW!! In fact, we are both blue from head to toe.







This picture was taken in '96 when we went to Phoenix for Halloween. I have no idea why I decided to dye my hair this color. All I can say was that I was much more adventuresome then. It's really not my best look.










This picture was taken the Christmas before we got married in 1998. We were looking a bit pudgy and tired. You could tell that we lived in Chicago at the time judging by how pale we were. Also, this was pre-Jenny Craig where I lost lotsa poundage before the wedding.







. And here is the final picture of the two of us on our honeymoon in Italy. I would kill to look like this again (...and I'm sure Wade would too). Note the street, that is actually a 2-lane road that we drove on-- very scary, but oh-so-beautiful.










Hope everyone enjoyed this little trip. I didn't include any photos from the '00's mainly because blogger only lets you do 5 pics and because the focus slightly shifted to the little ones. Have a good weekend!

Pass the Tissue

First day of Kindergarten

And You?

You Are 55% Normal

While some of your behavior is quite normal... Other things you do are downright strange You've got a little of your freak going on But you mostly keep your weirdness to yourself

How Normal Are You?

O.K. this is kinda stupid, but I was also curious. See, I would have guessed that I was 99% normal. Whoda thought. A little worried about the "freak" thing.