"She should talk as much as possible tonight."

Hello?!  Did the orthodontist's assistant really just say that to my 7-year old daughter?

Miranda's face lit up.  She had just been told to talk as much as possible. I bet she pictured an evening without being shushed, or asked to settle down, or told she should go play or "let mommy think for a minute."  This quite possibly was one of the best night's of her life.

Now, I'm pretty sure that our orthodontist doesn't have children.  Actually, he looks so young that I'm quite possibly old enough to be his mother.  A scary thought.  But not as scary as wondering what an evening of Miranda talking as much as possible may bring.

I know the assistant had good intentions.  This new retainer was making it challenging for Miranda to pronounce certain words.  Apparently, a lot of practice right off the bat would be helpful.  But, geeze, a little warning would have been nice!

So I did what any smart, college-educated person would do, I pawned her off on her brother as soon as we got home: "Go talk to Riley."

Within two minutes of listening to his sister talk non-stop he announced he had homework to do.  I said I had work to do.  He said, "but mom, she's annoying."

Truthfully, the evening before we had biked to the library and her non-stop talking was delightful.  "Mom, listen to the birds chirping!  I love hearing the birds chirp!"  "Mom, look how beautiful the trees are!" "Mom, that is the 12th dog we've seen so far!" I love her enthusiasm and joie de vivre.

I know there is a day when she won't want to talk with me so much.  So, actually, I really don't mind it.  And in the end, telling Miranda she should talk as much as possible, wasn't all that different than any other evening. Except, I suppose, when she went up to the TV and said, " Hey TV, what is your favorite color?"

Look what popped in to my inbox today.  And, here all this time I thought I needed to search out love.  I also mistakenly thought that different complexions (I do tend to freckle in the summer) or tribes may be an issue;  but apparently not.  So, if you are single and looking for love, look no further than your email.  I wonder if this type of correspondence will put match.com out of business.  I just hope Sandy is a guy...

Hello My Dear,

May Peace be onto you.I am Miss sandy kuku.How are you today?.I do hope that you are fine.I saw your profile today and was interested in you,in this gesture i write to show you a prove of my interest and admiration on you.Please send me an email for more details and for me to equally send you my picture.Remember that distance,complexion,religion,disability,race,language,tribe and age does not really matter in a relationship but an ideal love.

Thanks & remain blessed,

Miss sandy kuku.

So, my baby started his first season of playing tackle football this fall.  Actually, in early August we were already in the throws of football.  Well, technically I guess we are in the blocks of football, since Riley plays on the offensive line.  Not being too familiar with tackle football at this age, I have to admit I was a little nervous.  I mean, my kid is a big kid (tall anyways).  That means he is going to be positioned against other big kids.  How many grown men do you know who walk around these days with back injuries that started back in their football days?

When I shared my concerns with Riley's dad that went something like this: "I don't wany my baby playing tackle football," he laughed in my face.  O.K., well that is what I expected; so even after hearing numerous friends state they were glad their sons didn't play tackle football anymore--in part because of all the ambulances that came to the games-- I figured I would keep an open mind.  Afterall Riley was enjoying it.

So after six weeks of practice, the boys had their fist game.  They've played two games so far and are undefeated.  The other teams haven't even scored against them.  Riley is still having fun and (cross my fingers) so far hasn't had any injuries.  But I have to tell you, there is one thing I was not prepared for at all: the laundry.

Riley comes home from every practice with white practice pants that are spotted black with dirt stains accentuated with lovely dark green grass stains.  I don't know who chose these white pants for the boys for practice, but he clearly was not a mom.  Riley also has yellow game pants, but I can't bleach those so I prefer the white ones.

A typical night goes something like this.  He heads up to the shower and leaves his pants, pads, t-shirt, etc. up in his bathroom. The rule is that I will only wash what he brings down to the laundry room.  So the next morning he brings them down and I throw them in the washer with some bleach and soak them.  Then I attack them with Spray and Wash, and run the washing machine.  Occasionally this works.  Usually I have to spray them again and run the wash cycle again.  If I'm lucky, they come clean.  If not, they don't go in the dryer, because washing them two times is my limit. If Riley is lucky they will be dry before the next night's practice and this happens three times a week!  It's insane.

Tonight, about 20 minutes before practice he said, "mom can you wash my practice jersey, it stinks."  Boy did it ever.  It was awful!  I was afraid he wouldn't be able to breath; so I quick threw it in the wash and then in the dryer. He headed off to practice with a damp practice jersey and damp pants.  Since it was wet outside, I figured I was just giving him a head start so I didn't feel too bad.

I have to tell you, I don't know what they pay the people who are in charge of washing uniforms for college and professional football teams. But it is probably not nearly enough!

Oh, and by the way, speaking of football, check out this great video.  It shows how great youth sports can be if coaches keep things in perspective. Check it out (it's only 51 seconds) by clicking here.  Click here if you want the background information on the video.  I loved it!

Week two of school and we have a new member of carpool.  My neighbor's youngest, Payton, is attending all-day, 4 year old kindergarten which means I have the pleasure of driving him three times a week during my carpool shifts.

He did great the first week of school.  Being the youngest of three, he was raring to go: no tears, nothing.  He just hopped right in his special seat and we were good to go.  Since the other (i.e. older) kids can be pretty quiet in the mornings I like to chat with Payton to keep myself entertained. 

This morning he hopped in the car wearing his shorts, a sweatshirt and his Spiderman gloves and showed me a book he was reading. It was a book about the states and it had little flaps to life for each state.    He was pretty excited, so I was asking him questions about it.

I asked him if he knew what state he lived in and he replied, "my house."

So that is the state you live in? Your house?  "Yup."

Cool, do you know what city you live in? "Yes."

Which one? "My house."

Have you ever heard of Germantown? "Yes."

So I informed him that Germantown was the city he lived in.  Then I asked him, "what city do you live in?"

And he said, you guessed it--"my house."

I loved it.  Not a care in the world.  The other kids smiled; but surprisingly, no one burst his bubble.  So whereas the rest of carpool lives in Germantown, WI.  Payton lives in My House, My House.  Sounds like a nice place to live.

First day of school!  First day of school!  I remember the Christmas break when Riley was 5-years old watching Finding Nemo over and over and over.  He loved that movie.  And he wanted me to cuddle up and watch it with him again and again.

Now his sister is 7-years old and she likes to watch her favorite TV shows and movies over and over and over. With the magic of DVR's it is even easier for her to do this, much to her brother's dismay.  When he is posturing to watch his show in the family room, he does not take kindly to her starting the Wizards of Waverly Place: the Movie, yet again.

In some ways these kids are so similar and in other ways they are so different. There are 11-year old/ 7-year old differences.  There are boy-girl differences. And there are personality differences. But then they both love imaginative play and can have a ton of fun in the woods with some sticks and branches. They can turn our driveway into a city street, with chalk, complete with a jail. And their favorite game at the playground has always been Dragon: essentially tag. (If you talk to Riley about any of this he will probably deny everything.)

Nowhere were their differences more apparent, though, then the first day of school. I must say they both did better with the schedule adjustment than I expected.  Miranda bounced out of bed at a little after 6 a.m. on her own, got dressed, went downstairs, got something to eat and couldn't wait to leave for school.

I had to wake Riley at 6:20. But he also got out of bed, fairly happy and ready to face the first day of school. He smiled nice for pictures and actually had more bounce in his step than I expected.  Where they differed, though,was when they got home.

Miranda came home from school and announced, “I loooove school!”  And I said, “oh, that’s good.”

And then Riley said, “I hate School!”  And I said, “that’s too bad.”

And then Miranda said, “I loooove my teacher!” And I said, “oh, that’s good.”

And then Riley said, “(a teacher who shall remain unnamed) is so boring.” And I said, “That’s too bad.”

Miranda had a ball at recess.  Riley only got ten minutes of recess, which I agree is crazy.  They should bring back more recess if you ask me. (His sixth grade class is 2/3 boys.  That teacher is a saint.)

Riley announced at dinner, "Wednesday is going to be our toughest day; we have no specials." And at bedtime, Miranda said, "I can't wait for it to be Wednesday so I can go back to school." 

Truthfully, they both like school.  Riley's enthusiasm is just a bit tempered by the workload which is pretty tough in the older grades. But the one thing they have both adhered to really well was the "no TV on school nights rule" that we agreed to.  By the time homework is done it is time to head off to various sports practices and when they are finished, it is time for bed.  Miranda and I will watch a little together when Riley is at football and he will watch a little when he gets home and has a snack, but that is about it.  There are no fights about the Wizards of Waverly Place, and that's no fish story!

Squeeeeeeeeaaaaaaakkkkkkkk! 

What is that noise?  Oh, it's just the Dorsey's driving up.

We have a major squeaking issue going on in my world.  Actually, it's really just when I'm driving the old Chrysler Town and Country.  Ten years ago when my ex-husband and I bought the minivan, we brought it in to have it serviced because the brakes squeaked pretty loudly.  We were told that this was just the way these Town and Country brakes were.  Huh? We just paid all this money to own a vehicle that makes obnoxious squeaking noises when you stop?

O.K., well you get used to things.  And over the last ten years, I've had enough adversity in my life that the squeaking of my brakes was the least of my worries.  And now comes "Cash for Clunkers."  So the question is do I trade in my old minivan and upgrade to a new vehicle that gets better gas mileage, isn't completely scratched and dinged up, and doesn't announce our presence loudly every time I come to a four-way stop or slow down to pull into a parking spot?  Or, do I milk the ole' minivan for another couple of years or so of schlepping carpool and kids to soccer, football and Little League?

Really a case can be made for either argument.  The pros of keeping the minivan: we really make an entrance.  It's actually a pretty good incentive to be on time for things.  There is no sneaking in to the church parking lot when we are running late for Mass.  It's also great when you are driving past people out on walks with their kids because it warns them that you are coming.  This morning, I was coming up to a stop sign and a little girl was on the side of the road on her bike.  Her mom was a little bit ahead of her with another child.  When I braked for the stop sign, this mom's head swiveled around so quickly I thought it was going to snap off.  I think she heard the new squeaky sound I have, that sounds ever-so-much like metal scraping metal, and thought I had hit her daughter.  (Well, seriously, should her daughter really be on her bike behind her mother anyways?)

I also think it's really nice for my kids (and my blood pressure) that I still drive the minivan.  Scrape the side riding their bike? Not a problem--a new door dink, doesn't even register.  I was in a parking lot this winter and it was really windy.  The woman next to me opened her truck door and it swung and hit the side of my van.  She looked mortified.  I felt bad for her.  I opened my window and leaned across to the passenger side and told her not to worry about it.  "Are you sure?"  she asked. "No worries," I replied.  I guess I should have realized it was kind of a bad dink, based on her reaction, but I really didn't want to ruin her day.  I'm sure if I  were to buy a new car I would feel a little differently.

Finally, my son and I have actually been having fun with the squeaking noises.  As a kid who is starting to get embarrassed by everything about me (I was told my nose is too big the other day), he doesn't seem to mind the squeaking all that much.  We laugh about it all the time...he was totally getting into it the other day: "'Hey coach, Riley should be at practice in about ten minutes, I can hear him coming--he's about 5 miles away.'"  It's the new squeaky sound when I go slowly and back up that is the most annoying.  Next time I get my oil changed I am going to ask my mechanic about that one.  Oh, and that reminds me, because I drive a 10 yr-old Town and County, I know everyone at the repair shop by name.  I always give my name when I call, but I'm not sure if it is really necessary; I would think by now they would just recognize my voice over the phone.

That leads me to the cons of keeping my current vehicle.  The air conditioning is out and I just don't know if I can get myself to fork up the $800 to get it repaired.  Like everything on this Town and Country, the cost of the parts is no big deal, it's all the labor they have to do to replace the part that's pricey.  (This can also be turned into a positive: the cooler temperatures this summer didn't bother me nearly as much as they bothered everyone else.)  And the mileage is horrible, hence the inclusion in the Cash for Clunkers program.

I haven't decided yet, but I'm leaning toward purchasing a small, fuel-efficient vehicle and keeping the minivan for schlepping duty.  It will work well during the school year for carpool as the air conditioning shouldn't be an issue the vast majority of the school year and I don't have to bat an eye at muddy football cleats and soccer shoes.  It's also really nice for family vacations.  Then the rest of the time, I can enjoy not driving a minivan and get a little extra exercise parking near the back of parking lots until I get the inevitable first door dink. I better hammer out a decision soon, before the Cash for Clunkers funding is all gone.  I figure it will dry out right about when I decide to trade-in my old squeaker!

Every nine seconds a woman is abused by her husband, according to a survey  taken by The Commonwealth Fund. Every day, four women die in this country as a result of domestic violence.

The Sojourner Family Peace Center's mission is to provide shelter, safety, support, education and advocacy to break the cycle of family violence because domestic respect is the right of every woman, man and child.

There is a very easy way to support this great organization, as well as our Milwaukee Brewers: attend the Brewers Wives and Sojourner Family Peace Center's 20th Annual Tailgate to Fight Domestic Violence, Friday July 24th (tailgate 4 -7 p.m., first pitch 7:05).

Jim "Lips" LaBelle will emcee the event which includes food, beverages, Brewer's trivia and a silent auction which includes autographed memorabilia. Purchase raffle tickets for an opportunity to win a Sportster Harley-Davidson motorcycle. Kids will enjoy face painting, games, prizes and appearances by Bernie Brewer and the Klement's Racing Sausages!

Tickets are $65 to attend the tailgate and game or $50 for just the tailgate. This is a family event and there are discounted tickets available for children ($25 for tailgate and game).  Portions of the tickets are tax deductible.

So help hit one out of the house for those women and children who need to find a safe place to call home.

For more information or to purchase tickets call 414-643-1777 or e-mail gvrtochnick@sojournertruth.org. Or, visit their website at: http://www.sojournertruthhouse.org/.

I'm a big believer in the old "everything happens for a reason" school of thought.  Sometimes the reasons aren't readily apparent at the time and it's only in hindsight that you can look back and "get it."

Other times, you can just let out a big sigh and know that you are one lucky person and God is looking out for you.  In the last month, I have met someone who has had a big impact in my life and I am totally counting my blessings.  If you've read my blog (thanks mom) you know that I broke my wrist back in February. If not, that posting should be in the archives (I'd give my right arm).

My cast came off in late March. (What a shocker that was! Still broken and very much deformed looking.) Then I wore a big honking brace for a month.  That's when I realized that this whole recovery thing was going to be a bit more than I bargained for.  Quite frankly, though my wrist was getting better, it just didn't seem as if it had healed correctly.  Part of that was from a previous injury I had had before I broke my wrist in February, but nonetheless, the result was the same--my right wrist did not appear that it would be back to normal any time soon.

I know what you may be thinking...head to physical therapy, right?  Well, I did that--once.  There was only one problem, I don't have insurance coverage for that, nor, for that matter, having my wrist x-rayed, casted, etc.  I'm not complaining.  It's my choice to only pay for catastrophic; and up until this injury it had worked pretty well for me.  But now after paying $250 for an hour of physical therapy, that appeared to me to be almost a complete waste of time, I wasn't really sure where to head next. (And please no offense to physical therapists; I just think my situation required more help than they could give me, like perhaps surgery.)

That's when I met my angel.  My friend Frank is a massage therapist (and a physical trainer, and a caterer and a liquidation services representative) who is very much into holistic medicine.  He does a lot of deep tissue massage and therapeutic massage and was pretty confident he could aid in my rehabilitation.  The cost to me?  Trade writing/marketing for the massage.  I was game. What did I have to lose?

Well, let me tell you I have definitely not lost anything and have gained a ton.  The range of motion when I met Frank last month was pathetic and painful.  I could hardly turn my palm up and still couldn't use my right hand to wipe my, well, you know. He does this fairly painful massage of my wrist a few times a week and the results have been nothing short of amazing.  I never would have thought to turn to a massage therapist for help with this.  I had no idea that it could be so beneficial.

I've never given a shameless plug on my blog before, but I am so incredibly grateful and so certain that he can perform miracles for others that I am going to make it a first.  He's helped people eliminate headaches, get rid of rotator cuff injuries (you tennis players, like Karen! I don't know if you have any issues with that), lower blood pressure, etc.

I'd link you to his website, but that is one of the things I am going to assist him with getting going.  So, if you are interested, give Frank a call at Vitality Worx, (414) 305-3181. His office is located in Wauwatosa. I gave my best friend a massage from Frank for her birthday and she loved it.  He really has a gift, so I hope he gets the chance to share it with all of you.

I was fortunate enough to accompany my son's fifth grade class to a Brewer's game recently.  I had originally planned on attending their class trip to Madison; but I had a work conflict.

My son was disappointed I couldn't go to Madison (wow, really?) so I assured him that I would be able to make the Brewer's game instead.  He made a face at me.  I said, "don't you want me to go to the Brewer's game with you?"  He said, "well, that's a fun field trip."  And your point is...

I informed him that I like to have fun (duh!) and that I was going to be hanging out with my friends, too.  Eight parent chaperones were coming along in addition to two teachers; all of whom I enjoy chatting with.

I was pretty sure my son was on the bus when I hopped on.  It was hard to say for sure.  I had his glove and one of his buddies offered to give it to him for me, so I assumed he was on the bus somewhere.  It's not as if he jumped up to say hello to me, so I just took it on good faith.

When we got to the stadium, all the kids filed off the bus.  This was a part of the trip that I found kind of fascinating.  There was just one dad on the trip.  His daughter grabbed on to his hand and he was surrounded on all sides by her friends.  She held his hand all the way from the bus, through the packed crowds and into the stadium.  When we got to our section, his daughter sat next to him and there were two or three girls on either side of him and behind him.

By contrast, the boys (2/3 of the class) all walked in these little groups far from their mothers.  When we filed into our seats the boys were all at one side of the three aisles we were in, and the moms were all seated next to each other at the other ends of the aisles.  By pure luck, I was fortunate enough to be within touching distance of Riley.  He was seated in front of me and to the left.  At one point I asked his teacher to take our picture and what could he do?  He had to lean in and smile.

During the game I asked him for a piece of licorice and he kindly passed me one.   Once we got back to school, I know he ended up in my van with the three other fifth-graders I had offered to drive home.  And sure enough, he was there for dinner and bedtime.  At which time he is always required to give me the mandatory hug and kiss.

Today at our school picnic, he came running up to me.  Wow, how nice!  "Mom, can I go home with Joey after school?" "Thanks!" 

Obviously, he couldn't go without asking me. It's nice to be needed.

I'm not sure if you've heard, and I hate to toot my own horn and all, but I recently received a highly coveted award:  The Mother of the Year Award.

It was such a surprise, partially because I had no idea I had been nominated.  My best friend, who knows me better than anybody, stunned me, one day, by informing me of the honor.  You can just imagine my surprise!  The good news is that this got a lot of media attention, so click here if you'd like to see what I am talking about. (I promise that it is very much worth clicking here!).

As I reflect as to why I received this award, I think maybe it has something to do with the fact that I am turning into Dr. Seuss.  Let me explain.  My lovely, smart, enduring, emotional (Did I say emotional? I wonder where she gets that from, ahem) 7-yr. old has been going through a phase.   It has been a very loooong phase, where whining and crying sometimes replaces conversation and communication.  It can get very trying sometimes, though I know from all her little friends that it is somewhat age-appropriate.

It was one of those days where my patience was frazzled and it was only 6:45 (in the morning!). Anyways, she was upset about something, and whining, and I just looked at her and said (kind of shouted): "You don't whine or cry or shout it or pout it, you've got something to say, just say it!"

She just stopped and stared at me and my son stared at me.  And I looked at them and said, "that rhymed, didn't it?  I think I'm turning into Dr. Seuss."  At which point we all started laughing and all was good in the world.

Anyways, I believe it is my sense of humor that secured this award for me.  I'd like to thank all my supporters.  If you feel you know a mother who deserves this award and didn't check out the above links, you really should.  It's unbelievably easy to nominate someone and if you feel strongly about someone, they're pretty much a shoe-in for the award.

(This award was created by momsrising.org.  Check out their website!  This was the coolest thing I've seen going around the Internet in a while.  I sent it to just about every mom I know.  Loved it!)

Random thought:  is it just me, or is a pregnancy test displayed at the checkout at the dollar store a little strange?

Miranda and I ran to the dollar store after soccer today.  Somehow she just caught me in the right frame of mind, because I try to avoid bringing more junk into my home at all costs.  I only shop the dollar store around birthdays when we need helium balloons, typically.  Or, around the Fourth of July when we need glow sticks.

Anyways, we are at the checkout and she shows me this little Disney pen that you click and pictures revolve at the top.  I went to put it back and noticed that hanging just above the pens are home pregnancy tests. 

Yup, just a buck.  It just struck me as really strange.  Because though it's been a long, long time since I've had the need to purchase one (Miranda just turned seven after all), I don't remember them costing just a dollar.  I remember them being rather expensive. I think they were about $7 to $14 a piece back then and you never bought just one.  You want to be absolutely positive, right?!

So, my first thought is, do these things even work?  Are they old?  Is there an expiration date on these tests?  Those thoughts were quickly followed by: are these aimed toward teenagers?  I just don't see married women, starting a family or even having a whoops! baby, heading to the dollar store to confirm their pregnancies.  I think Walgreens would be more like it.

So the dollar store is making it really easy for teenagers to pick up a pregnancy test at the checkout with a pack of bubble gum. Or better yet, two, or three, or four.  After all, they are only a buck.

The kids and I went on a pretty wild ride this evening.  I'm sure it would have been a bit more fun had it been at an amusement part and not heading south on Highway 43.

We were heading downtown to go see Cirque Dreams at the Milwaukee Theater--which was amazing by the way.  Little did  I know that we would be in a situation as precarious as some of these acrobats balancing on top of stacked little rolling containers.

It's really kind of hard to describe, after the fact, what happened.  The classic, "it all happened so fast," comes to mind.  But one minute we are driving down the freeway.  It is raining and Riley is commenting on how when you go under bridges it's funny how the rain stops for a second and then starts back up again (you gotta' love the way kids think).  Next thing you know, we are all over the road.  And I mean all over the road!

I had zero control as we hydroplaned and went careening off to the right at 60 miles an hour, or so.  I'm trying to slow us down and steer, but I couldn't do either.  Some how I managed to keep us from flying off the road and we went veering back toward the center of the road, then back to the right and then across both lanes to the left.  Just when I thought we were about to fly into the center ditch (and its wire barrier), I was able to regain control of the car and we slowed down on the shoulder of the road and I was able to move back into the left traffic lane.

Honestly, I have no idea how we ended up in one piece.  The freeway, which was full of cars heading in either direction, didn't have any cars on it, near me, as this all happened.  When I finally regained control of my vehicle and looked in my rear-view mirror, there were plenty coming up behind me, but miraculously no one was anywhere near us when we were boating all over the place.

I've had a bit of a rough week.  This sure helps put things in perspective.  I'm counting my blessings; especially the two that are most near and dear to my heart. 

So my best friend from college has a new best friend, she says.  She refers to him as her "gay bestie" and says everyone should have one.

As I'm listening to her talk about him, I'm thinking, "wow, I should have a new gay-guy best friend!"  It would be someone to go out with and have a good time but it would take all the guy-girl dating stuff right off the table. I wouldn't have to worry about him liking me in a way that is "more than just friends" and vice versa.

I'm constantly struggling with the whole single-mom dating thing.  I've had three long-term relationships since my divorce and I know ultimately I'd like to meet someone and be married again.  But after thinking three times that someone may be the right person for me and my kids (obviously a package deal), I've been wrong.  And it's starting to make me a little gun-shy.  I don't want to keep investing all this time and energy and then ultimately say, "nope, this isn't going to work for us (me and my kids)."

My friend was explaining to me how this guy played tennis doubles with her and her girlfriends.  She was chuckling about the fact that it is all women and her new gay bestie.  

And then she gave me the biggest laugh-out-loud belly laugh I've had in a long time.

My friend: "It was really fun; but I told him he had to get some new shorts with pockets because I had to hold all his balls for him.  It was ridiculous!"

Me: (I'd rather not share my response. But it had us both rolling with laughter.)

My friend : "So he calls me later and asks me if I want to go shopping with him.  And I'm thinking, 'you can't pick out shorts by yourself?'"

Me: "Well, are you going to go shopping with him?"

My friend: "Well, I don't know. He wants me to go to Dick's Sporting Goods with him.  You know how I am always up for shopping."

Me: (Again, better not say, I don't think it's quite PG material.)

If none of this is funny to you, then congratulations, you probably have a higher level of maturity than I am exhibiting at the moment!!  Or, perhaps, I was just desperate for a good laugh.  I'll take one wherever I can get it!

If you are like me, you've been waiting far too long for the people at Lifetime to get their legal complications figured out so that we could tune in to another season of Project Runway.  Other than Cash Cab, which my son turned me on to, and Make Me A Supermodel which I'm only really watching because there's nothing else on...there's no must-see TV for me right now.

Riley keeps me updated on Danny Gokey; but I am usually getting Miranda too bed when American Idol comes on.  So we only watch a little of it together depending on how tired she is and how tired I am!

That's totally o.k., because, well, who has time to sit in front of the television?  Especially when you are a computer addict, like I am; but still, it's nice to have some mindless television to look forward to once in a while when I can wrestle the remote away from Riley. Truly, it's after he's gone to bed.

I haven't heard the exact start date for Project Runway, just this summer ( click here for the details).  But I am looking forward to all the cat fights, crazy fashions and glimpses of Mood Fabrics.  Owning a sewing machine and only being able to shorten hems and sew curtain panels--or something equally simple,  I can totally appreciate the skills that these designers have.

I haven't been to New York in a  few years.  I'll have to plan a trip soon and maybe, if I'm really lucky, I'll get to take the Cash Cab to Mood Fabrics.

Well, I'm in the middle of my second dog-sitting gig.  It probably didn't happen a moment too soon.  The kids are in Florida with their dad and my house was getting a little too quiet for my tastes.  Crazy, I know.  As soon as my kids get home and start bickering with one another I will eat those words.  But for now the peace and quiet was deafening. 

So, Mindy, the Teddy Bear dog is back and she is pretty vocal.  I just arrived home from seeing a movie with a friend. Lo and behold Mindy was waiting for me, perched on the steps, which affords her a good view out the front windows of my house.  Strange, since she was zipped in her little travel kennel, when I left.  But nonetheless, I digress.  After checking the house over for any little presents, seeing Mindy reminded me of what I wanted to blog about.

I received an e-mail from the Wisconsin Humane Society yesterday that talked about puppy mills in our state and a new bill that has been released, "that aims to stop the unspeakably cruel and inhumane puppy mill conditions legally tolerated in our state."

According to the e-mail, "Wisconsin is one of the few states left with no regulation, licensing or inspection program to enforce basic standards for the humane care of dogs being used for breeding, or of the puppies being sold to families oblivious to the plight of puppy mill dogs."  As a result, puppy millers routinely move from other states to Wisconsin because of our lack of regulation.

Oprah did a show on puppy mills not to long ago.  It was heartbreaking to hear what these animals go through. If you missed it, click here. 

And, please take a minute to e-mail your legislators to urge them to co-sponsor a bill that will try to put an end to the cruel and inhumane way animals are treated right here in our backyard.

It only takes a minute.  I promise it will be well worth your time.  Do we really want to have the reputation as being the state that people who treat dogs like doggie doo-doo move to? Just click here to get started.

I've been kicking around some stuff in my head lately and decided that it might be helpful to write down a few thoughts.  Mainly, I'm trying to decide if it would be better to find someone new to date, or get a puppy.

2009 has been quite a ride for me so far.  My boyfriend and I broke up in January. Then my dad had a medical emergency; he's still recovering but doing well.  Next I break my wrist.  And, finally, my computer crashes three times in two weeks when I'm in the middle of a big research product at work, for my new job that I started right before Christmas.  For whatever reason, I've taken most of these challenges in stride and have been grateful that I've just been able to focus on myself, my children, my family and my new job.

But then, like always, I start thinking that there is something more for me--something greener on the other side of the fence. Something that could make life a little more fun for me and the kids.  What I can't for the life of me figure out, is if that something has two legs, or four paws.  So, in the interest of figuring it out, I thought I'd make a list of the pros and cons.  For those of you who have someone special in your life, of either the four-pawed or two-legged variety, please let me know if I am forgetting anything so I can make sure and make the best decision.

In my mind, the pros of getting a puppy include:  unconditional love, entertainment, a walking buddy.  They are loyal, protective, cute, funny, the kids would enjoy one, they don't leave the toilet seat up, if they nudge you in bed you can just scratch behind their ears and they will go back to sleep, they are not babies when they are sick.  The cons include: dirty paws, being awaken at 5:06 in the morning (I know this to be a fact because we dog-sat over the weekend), chewed shoes, plants dug up, needing to pick up the dog litter in the yard, vet costs, kennel costs, dog hair that needs to be vacuumed or swept up constantly.

The pros of a new guy can be awfully similar (except many do leave the toilet seat up and they act a little differently in bed), but it's a little trickier.  With dogs, if you do enough research, you can pretty much figure out the basic temperament that you are going to get.  For example there are breeds that are more social, or more protective or working dogs. With guys this can be a little more challenging to figure out.  What you think is a working guy could actually turn out to be a more laid back, docile guy.  Or, you could get a guy who is overly-social or too protective.  The thing is, though, it's hard to know from the get-go.  Just like a puppy does not usually start to really settle down and settle in for about a year, you don't really know  a guy's true colors until about the same amount of time has passed. 

Pros of the right guy, for me, though, would probably include:  entertaining, smart, cute, funny, loyal, they shovel (or snow blow), they cook (might as well shoot high), they like to travel, they mow the lawn, they are hard-working, they remove their muddy shoes at the door. (And thanks to Jeanne, for reminding me--they can remove mice from mouse traps!) The cons include: they can be time-consuming, they want you to cook for them, do their laundry, they are not always content to let you sleep when you are tired, they may not agree that you need another pair of black shoes, a new leather couch in the family room, or a girl's weekend in New York.

I know that I've only touched the surface of this topic.  So if you have anything to add to get me off the fence one way or another, I'd appreciate it.  The kids and I recently dog-sat for a Teddy Bear dog named Mindy. She was cute as all get out.  Miranda loved her.  Mindy loved me and shadowed me for two days.  Apparently it's typical for this kind of dog to latch on to one person and I reminded her most of her mother, I'm sure.  It was definitely fun to have a dog in the house again.  But I wasn't too crazy about the orange puke stain I found on the dining room carpet after she left. 

I have been a frequent visitor to the Wisconsin Humane Society website lately.  Like really frequent.  I am on that site at least a couple of times a week.

This morning there were about eight or 10 adorable puppies, Dalmatian mixes and Shepard mixes, that were all adopted by the end of the day.

I have been fighting the urge to get a puppy for awhile now.  Mostly because as cute as they are, I know how much work they are.

My ex-husband and I had a Springer/Chesapeake mix.  He was the greatest dog.  He was also about 90 pounds at his heaviest, and a little difficult to take care of, on my own, after I got divorced.  He went back and forth with the kids, before he was put to sleep a couple of years ago, for a variety of medical reasons:  he had bad hip displasia and Cushings disease and was in a lot of pain in the end.

The thing is, I really miss walking a dog.  It still feels strange to me, all these years later, to go on a walk without a dog.  Of course I also miss how they clean your kitchen floors of all the crumbs and scraps of food that the kids manage to leave lying around.

So, in an attempt to get off the fence, one way or another, I am watching a friend's dog over Easter break.  Since I believe I am the only person I know not going somewhere warm (my kids are going to Florida with their dad), I will either enjoy having a little companion around and all that unconditional love. Or, I will be totally annoyed when this little teddy bear dog wakes me up too early, has muddy paws that need to be washed or has an accident on my carpet.

Feel free to send us a postcard!  I'll let you know how it goes.

I've had blog posts forming in my head for weeks.  Unfortunately they haven't made it out of my head, until now.  And as I write this, I have no idea how this blog is going to take shape.

Maybe it's the weather: cold, warm, cold, warm.  Maybe it's my computer: works, crashes, works, crashes, works, crashes.  (Yes, you read that correctly.  Three times, count 'em, three times, my computer has crashed on me in the last two weeks!)  Maybe it's the doctor appointments for my broken wrist. (And for those of you who wondered how my wrist was broken by a soccer ball, I had my vitamin D levels checked and they are normal.  Thanks for your concern.) But lately my thoughts are a little scattered.  I can't form a blog post, in my head, to save my life.  So, I'm just going to wing it. 

I've had Dell out here two times in the last two weeks and they will be coming again, this week, to fix my computer. Thank heavens for the extended service warranty.  (I've been using my old computer--the kids' computer--talk about slow!)

First, Dell replaced the video card and my computer worked like new again--for four days-- then it crashed. Next they replaced the video card and the mother board and my computer worked like new again.  Then, two days later, it crashed.  Now they are going to come out and replace everything in the hard drive.

In the end, it will have taken five hours worth of phone calls to India. The independent consultant Dell has in my area will have made three service calls (at least I hope it's only three).  They've shipped parts three times and then the computer consultant ships back the old parts.  Seems to me that would all add up to a brand new hard drive, by this point.

By contrast, here is how a visit to the Apple store went Sunday.  I walked in for a noon appointment at the Genius Bar.  I was kept waiting for about 15 minutes, then I explained that the charger for Miranda's Ipod Shuffle was not working and that it had not been working since November.  I also showed the paperwork that Apple had replaced her Shuffle in October, because it hadn't synced properly.  Shortly after that, the charger had gone; but I was just getting around to taking care of it now.

The very helpful genius tested it; sure enough it was not working.  He got me a new one, made sure it synced up with iTunes o.k.  He said, "Miranda will be back in business."  Then he handed me the $29.99 charger for free and I was on my way, within 10 minutes, tops.

Wow!  Now I realize that an Ipod Shuffle is not a computer.  But still.  The customer service was outstanding.  I never even had a receipt for her Shuffle in the first place, because I won it as a raffle prize.

For all you Apple cult members--you know who you are!  I may have been a little brainwashed my last two visits.  My next computer will be a laptop.  So the question is, Dell or Apple?

"I'd give my right arm..."

I don't know if I've ever used that expression before.  However, I'm certain I'll never use it now.

I had a little incident last weekend.  I was running on to the soccer field to sub in at my weekly Sunday night game (I'm a member of The Women's Soccer Club) when the goalie of the opposing team was whipping the ball down the field--HARD!  Except it didn't get very far because the full force of this ball hit my right wrist instead.

Luckily, my friend Beth, on our team, is a doctor.  She wrapped my wrist up with some ice and told me she would contact a colleague of hers to see if he could see me in the morning.  Funny thing is (or actually not so funny) is that right before the game we were discussing the fact that I had just had x-rays taken of this wrist three days earlier.  It's been giving me some trouble since early December and I was told I had a ganglion cyst. However it turned out that I had an old fracture, unbeknownst to me.

I asked Beth what they would do to treat it and she told me nothing, since it had already healed on it's own. She said: "unless you were to break it again, they aren't going to do anything."

About five minutes later--it was broken.  Really freaky weird, don't you think?  Of course I didn't know that until about 1:30 the next afternoon when I got a cast put on it.  The bad news is I broke the other side of my wrist so the part that was already giving me trouble will not be fixed by the cast.

When something bad happens to me, I try to find some meaning in what has happened and see what I can take away from the experience.  I'm pretty sure between what happened to my dad, earlier this year, and now this is that I need to stop taking good health for granted.  Something I have always been fortunate enough to do.

As I've been learning what is impossible to do without my right hand (cutting up a cantaloupe, putting my hair in a pony tail and wiping my...never mind, we're not going to go there) I am vowing that I am never going to take my health for granted again, nor the health of my loved ones for granted. 

In the meantime, the experts say you can create new pathways in your brain from doing things differently than how you normally do them: brushing your teeth with your left hand instead of your right, etc.  So, maybe all of this will make me a little smarter and keep Alzheimer's at bay for a little longer?  I hope so.  If nothing else, the kids are being helpful with way less prodding; I'll take that for sure!

I saw Donald Driver on the news yesterday.  Actually, he was all over the news giving his comments on Brett Favre's retirement.  That's great, and all, but as far as I could see (and maybe I just missed it) no one was talking about why Donald Driver was in town yesterday.

I was fortunate enough to attend a grand opening yesterday at the new Goodwill Workforce Development Center on Capital Drive.  The center is free to anyone.  So, basically a person can walk in off the street and get all kinds of job training. Donald Driver, a spokesperson for Goodwill, attended the event and helped cut the ribbon with, among others, Mayor Tom Barrett. The center is totally funded by Goodwill at no cost to the consumer.  It's a really beautiful office space complete with an Internet café.

In doing some research for an article, I've come to learn about the variety of causes that Donald Driver is involved with and it's really impressive.  The Donald Driver Foundation, click here for more information, does a lot for homeless families, as well as single-parent families.

So, I think that when Donald Driver comes to town to support the opening of this new job center, given the current economic climate, that's news.  He also signed copies of his new children's book: "Quickie makes the Team." A portion of the profits, from sales of the book, goes into his foundation.

He looks you straight in the eye when he shakes your hand and really impressed me as a very sincere person.  I know one station covered the opening of the center, channel 58 (though they didn't talk about Donald Driver), and again, maybe I just missed it on some other stations.  I hope so, because I think credit needs to be given where credit is due.  And a professional athlete who seems to care as much about people, as he does football, is something all kids who aspire to be a famous athlete some day, should see.