Old tricks

I am not sure I even know how to do this anymore. I just gave a presentation on social networking, so I thought I would try again. I have been trying my hand at facebook, and I am not liking it so much.

Poor Girl

She has not gotten much attention . . . and some have called me on it.

A Knight's Tale

about a three-year old boy

Never has a boy held the key to my heart like Julian Kiehl Hartwick. Jules was born on September 23, 2004, and my life has not been the same since. I am in love like never before. When he is away from me, my heart hurts. When he smiles at me, my heart dances. When he calls me "mom" I pinch myself. When he calls me "sweetheart" like he did this morning while teaching me to play with the new crane, I pinch myself again. As my friend Sarah once said, "Your love is better than chocolate, better than anything else that I've tried."

Julian is my baby no more, but a boy. A boy who has taught me what happiness means. A boy who taught me to laugh. A boy who taught me to cry. A boy who reminds me to how to find joy in frogs, bubbles, scooters, trains, bugs, spongebob, and all creatures pre-historic. A boy who is currently teaching me to let go. To find myself. Teaching me to be a better mom and a better person.

I used to think "mom" was a bad word. I was going to be one of those parents that insisted on being called by my first name. Julian would say, "Hey Andrea, can you get me chocolate milk please?" Now, it is one of my favorite words, but a title I do not feel worthy of.

I will miss my two-year old boy, but I am so excited to continue to experience the life of this three-year old boy.


So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin,
you're waiting for someone to perfom with
And don't you know that it's just you, hey Jude, you'll do,
the movement you need is on your shoulders.

Look Alike?

People either say he looks exactly like me or exactly like Jeff. Of course, both these statements cannot be true. I have my opinion.

Here she is . . .

Luciana, Luci, LuLu, LuceLuce, Chica, Little Chedda'

Doubt if you will . . .

I found out I was pregnant with my first child in December 2003. We decided right away that we would find out the sex of the baby. I am not good at waiting. Also, I would rather have the surprise at 20 weeks rather than 40 weeks! I had two ultra sounds. Both times we were told we were having a girl. No real explanation as to why this was. No concrete evidence. Just abut 90% sure its a girl. It had already been decided that no matter whether the baby was a boy or a girl, the room had to be gender neutral. My minor in Women Studies taught me this was necessary for the healthy development of a child. At about 7 months I threw a tantrum that the room was not neutral - that there is no such thing - and that the mission-style furniture and all the little fish and sea creatures were much more suitable for a boy. Imagine my relief, despite all the dresses in the closet at home, when Jeff yelled "Holy Shit! It's a boy!" What a great surprise!

This time, mouths fall when I tell people we "found out" again and its a girl - again. "Yeah, right!" and "You don't believe that, do you?" are the responses I get. Actually, I was in shock at first. I was completely prepared for another boy. I actually think I am good at being a mom to a boy. So, am I scared? Yes. Do I believe the tech when she says she is 100% sure the baby is a girl? Yes. This time, the ultra sound machine was not from the 1800s. This time my doctor did not read the ultra sound. This time, a lab tech gave me evidence:

Good enough for me! The room is green - - with lots of pink, pink, pink!

There Are These Things About Me . . .

1. I grew up in a town with 2,500 people; 13 bars; 4 churches; 0 stop lights.
2. I went to a Catholic school through the 8th grade. I wore a uniform.
3. I like the idea of my children wearing uniforms to school.
4. I was punished by a nun for "group work" in phonics. We were sent to the church to pray.
5. I was a latch key kid.
6. My father is an only child to parents whose family immigrated from Chekoslovakia.
7. My Polish mother grew up on a farm with four brothers.
8. My uncle still lives on the family farm. Two of my uncles do not speak because of this.
9. I am the third and last of three girls.
10. I love being the baby of the family.
11. As a child, my parents called me Fritzy.
12. My grandpa Joe called me Baby until I got married.
13. As a child, I rarely got into trouble. When I did, I used my eyes and charm to negotiate a better punishment.
14. I was not a planned child.
15. I know this because my sisters are 7 and 8 years older than me.
16. I am my dad's favorite.
17. One of my sisters has three boys; the other has three girls.
18. My favorite childhood activity was catching frogs.
19. And playing pretty much anything in the woods behind our house.
20. For a while, I twirled baton. Fire baton.
21. For a while, I played the clarinet. I quit band because it was the only class I could not get an "A" in. Oh - and I totally sucked.
22. Before the clarinet was the flute. After the clarinet was drums. Sucked at those too.
23. As a child, my family spent the summer weekends on the boat, but I still do not know how to water ski.
24. I spent the summer week days at the swimming pool. I was there most days standing in line when the doors opened.
25. This later turned into the best job I ever had - swimming instructor and life guard.
26. My mother does not know how to swim.
27. It is very important to me that my children do. Julian started swimming lessons at 18 months.
28. I was a captain of the Basketball team.
29. Volleyball was my favorite sport.
30. I had three true friends in high school, but I spent most of my time with my boyfriend.
31. My parents did not like Arin.
32. That made me like him more.
33. There was a two-year period when I could not stand my mom.
34. The next two years - she was my best friend.
35. From my mother I learned strength and self-reliance.
36. From my father, I learned to be a kind soul and the value of patience.
37. College was my way out of a small town, where I felt I did not belong.
38. I was registered to attend the University of Minnesota.
39. At the last moment, I changed my mind and switched to SCSU.
40. There was no good reason - unless you believe in fate.
41. I was SO excited to meet my dorm roommate.
42. I was SO disappointed in my dorm roommate.
43. I switched roommates within the first month.
44. I lived in a Co-ed dorm. By luck.
45. I was on the Rowing Crew.
46. I quit because I could not stand waking up and getting out on the cold water at 6 a.m. after being out until 3 a.m.
47. I dislocated my elbow jumping out a window at a party house called The Buzz.
48. I overhead them using a book to figure out how to get my elbow back in place.
49. My dream was to become Jodi Foster (Clarice) in Silence of the Lambs. That dream ended in Psyc 101.
50. Polly Kellogg made me realize I am a feminist.
51. I marched and yelled "Fight! Fight! Fight! Take Back the Night!"
52. Luke Perry, former member of the Black Panther Party, made me realize I am a humanist.
53. I organized "Tuesdays in Black" - recognition of women's suffering and oppression internationally.
54. I had to appear in court for possession of a keg without a permit.
55. The second best job ever was bartender at Jimmy's Pour House. I make a mean whiskey 7.
56. I was a collection agent for about a year. I never made my commission.
57. I meet my husband during my second year in college.
58. I set my sights on him because he seemed different.
59. He had really good hair - long with a slight wave. I coveted it.
60. In his bedroom (in an apartment he lived in with 3 other guys) a guitar sat next to Grateful Dead and The Beatles songbooks. I thought that was cool.
61. He does not know how to play the guitar.
62. Because of him, one of my favorite songs is still Scarlet Begonias.
63. Jeff and I moved in together during our last year at SCSU.
64. We also lived with a lizard named Agadore Sparticus, and a dwarf bunny named Clowey - she later was adopted and her name was changed to Shaniqua From The Hood.
65. Jeff and I moved to Minneapolis together and got a dog - Honey. I wanted a different dog. I cried the whole way home.
66. We recently had to put Honey to rest. I cried all the way home.
67. Soon after I started law school, Jeff and I broke up for most of my 1L experience.
68. During that time I lived in an old mansion with 12 other law students.
69. I lived in Miami for 3 short months.
70. My dad drove with me from Wisconsin to Miami.
71. He sat behind the wheel of car with bumper stickers that declared things like "This is what a feminist looks like."
72. It was the best time I ever had with him.
73. When he left, it was the first time I truly felt independent.
74. Every weekday morning I walked across the street from Florida Immigrant Advocacy Center to order a Cafe Con Leche through a window.
75. I loved the heat. I shiver when the temp drops below 70 degrees.
76. I want to move back to Miami.
77. Cuban food is Jeff's and my favorite.
78. I had to speak Spanish all day every day for my job.
79. I understand Spanish much better than I speak it.
80. One of my goals is still to become fluent in Spanish.
81. It is very important to me that my children are fluent in more than one language (preferably Spanish).
82. My grandmother spoke German on occasion - when fighting with my Grandfather.
83. My grandmother died of Alziemer's Disease.
84. I was with her when she was checked into the hospital.
85. I was with her when she took her last breath in the hospital.
86. I have a sweater of hers that I wear whenever I am sad and want to feel her near me.
87. My favorite vacation was Spain - Seville, Granada, Costa del Sol.
88. I have been to Africa by way of ferry.
89. The place I want to go the most is Belize.
90. I thought I did not want to marry.
91. I thought I did not want to have children.
92. I am so much better at being a wife and mother than I thought I would be.
93. I married my best friend.
94. I gave birth to the love of my life.
95. I actually enjoyed being pregnant with Julian.
96. When the epidural worked after 4 tries, I thought the process was just fine.
97. I had two ultra sounds and both times was told I was having a girl.
Both were wrong. I am so glad.
98. In July, he will be a big brother.
99. I am much more nervous this time than the first.
100. Above all else, I want my children to freely accept and give love.

Weekend Conversing

For once, I was quiet. For once, I did a little more listening than talking. These are the conversations I caught this weekend:

At the gym:
Girl: Mom, you have to take your bra off.
Mom: I know.
Girl: You don't care if people see your boobies?
Mom: No.
Girl: Hey! Boobies starts with B!

At Peter's Parents:
Mother-in-law: Joe has been exposed to whooping cough. Whooping cough! That's not even around anymore.
Father-in-law: Do you think it is from immigration?
Me: What?
Peter: It is because they have stopped immunizing for whooping cough.
Father-in-law: Since when?
Mother-in-law: You know, I just hate it when they do that.

In the car:
Julian: I want binky!
Me: There are no more binkies.
Julian: I want binky! Bink! Bink! I want binky! Where is binky!
Peter: Sorry, bud.
Julian: Binky! Binky! My binky, mama!
Me: Blink. Blink.
Julian: I want binky! Binky! Binky! Mama! Mama! My binky, momma!

Changing Julian's diaper:
Peter: Julian, do you have testicles?
Julian: (Silence)
Peter: Yes! You have testicles!

At a party:
Some guy: Eden Prairie Lady, this is Peter, Peter teaches at Benilde.
EP Lady: The thing I hate about Benilde is . . .
Me: Blink. Blink.
EP Lady: The other thing I hate about Benilde is . . .
Me: And your connection to Benilde is what?
EP Lady: Five years ago a really smart girl, I can't think of her name, went to school there. Peter, you taught her. I know you taught her. She wasn't really pretty.
Peter: I don't know who you are talking about.
EP Lady: Yeah, you taught her. Kind of quiet.
Peter: I teach lots of kids that are quiet.
EP Lady: I hate to say it, but she was a bigger girl. Really into girl scouts. Do you know who I am talking about?
Peter: No.
Me: I need more wine.
EP Lady: I will find you later when I think of her name.
Peter: Let's go home.

In the car again:
Peter: Do I have a belly like my Dad?
Me: (making weird face)
Peter: Be honest. Do I have a belly like my dad?
Me: No.
Peter: Then how does that jacket fit him? It is too small for me.
Me: It is not too small for you. It is supposed to fit that way. It is a biker's jacket. A rock star jacket.
Peter: It is? I'm a rock star, right?
Me: Silence.
Julian: I want binky!

Check This!

Last night, Peter introduced me to this little guy - Line Rider. Have you met him? He is the greatest way to waste time. Check out this one made by someone much more talented than I.




** Google "line rider" and you can get to the web site where you can make your own. Try it and you will understand how truly amzing this is. Good luck to you!

Shit!

Those 10 days of beautiful fall are gone. Most people think I dislike fall. Hate it. That's what I tell them. The truth is, deep down - I love it. Now you know. I love the colors. Love the smell in the air. Love bundling up in sweaters and hats for a fall walk. Sitting in front of the fireplace or a bonfire. Love listening to the crunching and rustling of the leaves as the squirrels play chase in the backyard. Peter laughs at me as I stock up on apples, pumpkins, squash and pears. It's time to celebrate "The Harvest" - a much better holiday to celebrate than the traditional holiday that comes later in the month. (I am not so big on celebrating theft, rape and slaughter).

I love fall. It's just that I can't stand what creeps behind it. What has already crept. Shit! Last week, it snowed. Snow pelted me in the side of my face. The wind made a mess of my hair. Then I wore a hat. My hair was even messier then as it stood straight up from static. From the hall closet, which remains unopened all summer, I took out the winter coat that I have not worn in months. And forgot to check the pockets. I set of the security buzzer-thing in the federal courthouse. A lighter. No, something more than that. A reminder of something I haven't done in awhile. I hold it in my hand for awhile - contemplating. Then step into the warm room covered in mahogany.

It's winter. I told Peter we need to move. Why do we stay? Because our family is here? Because we both have pretty decent jobs here? Because we just put Julian through the crisis of changing schools? Because we have a house just outside of the city with ducks and deer living in our backyard? Because we just redecorated and created a train room for our little boy? Those reasons are not good enough! I am cold!

But, enough with all the complaining just for a little while. In those beautiful 10 days of fall, we managed to have a lot of fun.



The Little Libra turned 2 and had a fabulous party scoring Thomas the Tank Engine and His Friends . . .

We rode some horses . . .

We climbed a hay mountain . . .

Picked some apples for The Harvest . . .




Roamed the pumpkin patch . . .

And floated down the St.Croix on one last boat trip . . .






These pictures will be a great to look at someday after we relocate. A reminder that we DO NOT miss the changing seasons.

A Day in the Life

Listen! I hear a rumble. Someone needs help.


I can take the tractor. But the tractor is slow . . .


I better run. But I am not fast enough . . .


A snowmobile!


There you go little cow. Eat up!


But listen! What's that noise?


Gotta run!

Pocket 3's

Happy Birthday, Pete. Good hand, but it's me who is lucky!

Vacation From Sobriety

The second week of August brought with it great peace. After two days of playing family referee, counselor, and official cursing interpreter. Two days prior to our vacation beginning, we joined my parents and my sister's family on their vacation. I mean this - it definitely was not my family's vacation. Well, maybe Julian was saved from the family turmoil. When we arrived we learned there was no way Peter and I would fit in the bed we were assigned. We gladly gave up the room and called dibs on the queen-size air mattress in the middle of the living room - which was the same room as the kitchen, which was in the path of the only bathroom and right next to the window of my parent's bedroom, which was a converted porch, and thus had a window to our "bedroom." At least Julian loved that window. My 8-year old nephew would lift him up and leave him dangling in the window. He would yell, "Mama! Help!" and I eased him out the other side of the window about 25 times until he figured out how to land on the couch with only minor injuries.

There are no great Fish Tale stories as detailed in the Nature Lovers post. In fact, both Julian and Ashley (the dog) doubted those were really "fish" in the bucket.

What there was primarily was a 16-year old boy. And my mother. A 16-year old who I love like crazy. But, a boy who has a mouth on him like mine - except I don't use it around my parents or siblings. Ever. Never ever. I decided maybe he needed some support. Someone who actually listened to him. I decided the time for this move was when he started yelling at his mother, my sister, about how she never supported him in his last relationship. Then he turned on my mother. Choice words thrown in. I said something like "I know how you feel." This caused my mother to grab the economy-size bottle of zinfandel sitting on the table in the kitchen/my bedroom, which was already open, and storm out the door - I am positive it hit her in the ass on the way out. Both my sister and I were left questioning "Was it something I said?" Turns out it was something I said. How do I know? My mother and her wine bottle, in the knick of time, caught Pete leaving in our boat, and they both jumped in. Pete spent the next hour listening to her say,"She thinks it is so easy to raise kids, she'll see how easy it is when she has to talk to her children about sex." I guess I will see. Sounds easy enough. The 16-year old and the 2-year old were not so affected by the match.

I was later left explaining to the 16-year old that drinking was not the answer. He asked, "Then why have you been drinking gin and tonics since you got here?" Uhhh . . .

We never unpacked our suitcases. We were prepared to run. We did so on schedule Monday morning, arriving in Hayward at check-in time. Ready to start our own vacation. Julian and I were so relaxed, we both were totally carefree as we got sand in our asses. And I am pretty sure we looked cool doing it.

And Peter, he spent lots of time on the golf course and the boats sans economy-size wine. Only to be replaced with 24-ounce bullets. Awesome!

Things I Love Right Now (If You Care)

(1) The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini: I just finished reading this book. When it was picked for the next book club, I was not very excited. I thought it was over-publicized. I was wrong. I think this may be the best book I have read yet.

(2) Target's Bookmarked web site: I just set up a site for the book club I am a member of - "Thursday Night Girls." The site is awesome. This may take time from my blogging activities. Actually, it is very much like a blog, but anyone you invite can create posts, change content, email all other members, and set up calendars. The web address is www.bookmarked.target.com



(3) Entourage: This is the only show my DVR is set to catch every week - well, and Backyardigans. Jeremy Piven, Kevin Connolly, Adrian Grenier, and Kevin Dillon (my personal favorite) . . . It could be better than Sex in the City.

Note: Peter can't believe I did not include Turtle in the line-up - but I am trying to make a comparison to Sex in the City, Peter. Or maybe Turtle, Jerry Ferrara, is best matched with the character of Miranda. But if I include Turtle, I might as well include Lloyd, and I am not doing that.

(4) Feta Dip and Pita Chips: I make one awesome dip thanks to Rachel Ray. I make it on the weekend and eat it as a snack thoughout the week - washed down with a glass of red wine. The trick is to use lowfat feta cheese crumbles.



(5) Red Wine. Greg Norman Estates. Francis Coppla, Black Label. Try them.

(6) Bare-Naked Oatmeal. Banana Walnut.

(7) Sonia Kashunk Lipstick. Color: Nude. I love it even more since I recently learned the color is hard to find. C and I are now on a mission to stock up.

(8) "Answers" by Boomkat.



(9) Boots Products. Pretty much anything - Time Dimensions Deep Cleansing Facial Wipes, No. 7 Quick Thinking 4 in 1 Wipes, Botanics Responsive Moisture Lotion, Botanics Deep Clean Foaming Mouse, Botanics Enriching Milk Bath, Mediterrean Milk, Honey & Almond Moisturizing Soap, No. 7 True Identity Foundation - I have them all.

Note: You may remember this product line from my ranting blog about turning 30. You can see I may have gone a little overboard.

FOR JULIAN:



(10) DKNY. Little Boys T-Shirts (Elephants, Snakes, Skateboards) and Pants (Statue of Liberty Camo).

(11) Thomas the Train. He loves it, so I love it. We are going to knock his socks off on his big "2" birthday! Trains, Trains, Train Table!

(12) Canus Li'l Gaot's Milk Products. Once only sold in specialty shops. Now at your local Target.

(13) Kandoo Foam Shampoo

(14) Oatmeal to Go. They are oatmeal in a bar. He calls them Monkey Bars. I don't know why.

FOR JEFF:



(15) Caswell Massey Shaving Cream. I love the smell. I have been to NY for work lately. Right across the street from the hotel is a Cassell Massey shop. It makes it easy to stop and pick up a jar every time.

(16) Leatherman. Its compact and has every tool a man needs (but maybe not every tool a man wants - that takes up a whole garage). And I get to use it sometimes too.

Part II: Music (Juke Box)

Runaway, Del Shannon: "I'm walkin' in the rain. Tears are fallin' and I feel the pain. Wishin' you were here by me. To end this misery. And I wonder . . .". So it's not total refreshment because I can't give you a date or an exact moment in time that this song takes me back to. Instead, it is generally one of my first memories - my father singing this song to me. Today, it is one of the songs I sing to my son. Maybe one day he will have a similar recollection - without the record playing in the background.

Papa Don't Preach, Madonna: It's 1986. I am ten years old. I am in the basement wearing white high heel pumps stolen for a moment from my mother's closet. I am adorned with a white puffy skirt from my sister's closet. It is actually this tulle thing that used to be a requirement for wear under a prom dress. I will be seriously injured if she knows I have been in her room; perhaps dead if she finds out I actually had the courage to touch something AND leave with it. I add my own black leggings and hot pink head band. I look awesome. I accessorize with beads in all sizes. I am armed with a curling iron. I don't understand the lyrics yet, but I am amazing singing "Papa don't preach I'm in trouble deep. Papa don't Preach I've been losing sleep."

Livin' On a Prayer, Bon Jovi: It's 1987. I am with friends Sara, Erin and Kelly. The three of them have been friends practically since they were born. I have infiltrated the group. We beg Kelly's brother to give us a ride to the swimming pool. It is too hot to ride bikes. We jump into his new red convertible. Did I mention Kelly and Ben are spoiled brats? We jump into the red convertible. The top is down. The wind is blowing in our hair. I will look like a chia pet by the time it is over. The radio is blaring Bon Jovi. Everyone loves Bon Jovi. I strive to be different. I want to be dislike Bon Jovi - I am too cool for this. But I have to be honest with myself - it is just to good. I surrender and belt out - "We've got to hold on - ready or not. You live for the fight when it's all that you've got!"

Everything I Do, I Do It For You, Bryan Adams (theme song from Robin Hood, Prince of thieves): Its 1991. I have recently met Jon F. at a friend's cabin - while I was dating someone else. I fell hard and fast - at least by my standards then. After the cabin weekend he invited me for a surprise day. Somehow I convinced my mother to let me go. I did a lot of cry-begging as a young teen - this is one thing that boys have never picked up on as an effective method for getting what you want. I am pretty sure she did not realize that I slept in his sleeping bag at the cabin so that he could easily wake me up at dawn to watch the sunrise with him - or that he was there for that matter. I am sure she was just happy that my leaving for the day with Jon meant I would not be with Arin. Jon picked me up in the morning and we drove to a nearby town. Bryan Adams sang on the radio - no mistake Mr. F purchased the tape- yes tape, for me. We arrived at his friend's house. A helmet waited for me on the table. Dirt Bike Riding! So fun! On the way home, Jon explained that there was something he wanted to show me. Not what you think - It was a beautiful hidden bridge in the woods. We kissed. Awwww .... Soon, he left for basic training. He sent me a card declaring "I love you more than love." I think in total the relationship lasted three weeks - but still, one of the best dates ever.

Shake it Up, The Cars: It's 1992. I am in driver's ed. class. Our teacher, may his soul rest in peace, walks around unknowingly EVERY DAY with a bumper sticker on his butt that reads "Start seeing motorcycles" and I laugh EVERY DAY. One day the boys started passing around a pair of badly misshapen glasses that usually adorned the spaces inbetween the ears of Mr. G. When they landed on my desk I could not control myself. I laughed until I could not breathe. This made my friend Amy lose it. We both were kicked out and summoned to the hall for the rest of the period, which of course, we could have cared less about. On our actual driving days, a stop was always made at Mr.G's house to "check the laundry." The laundry detergent he used smelled like whiskey and made him fall asleep. I prepared for this exciting class and getting my license by driving around for hours with my sister's boyfriend (now husband) in his "T-top." I was the driver. He was the D.J. The only CD we ever listened to was Heartbeat City, The Cars. Shake it Up was my favorite. I requested it over and over and over.

Sweet Child 'O Mine, GNR: It's 1994. I am a caption on the basketball team. This position has many perks. One that you may not think of is having all your requested pre-game songs actually make the tape. That's right - there is nothing like a little GNR to get you pumped to play some serious defense and BOX OUT!

Crazy, Aerosmith: Still 1994. Senior Homecoming. I am going to a dance again for the second time with Henry a/k/a Hank. We are just friends. I am dating someone who has already graduated and unfortunately for me, there is nothing like a few years in college to make your man not want to come back to his hometown for a high school dance. I hold out a while for my crush to ask - but that was crazy - I do have a "boyfriend." He asks Zara - Amazon woman of a neighboring town. Now she is a rival. Crush and I sit on homecoming court together. Everyone has known of our "on again-off again" status since sixth grade, so naturally we are paired together. We walk around the gym hand in hand. We dance. The music shifts to Aerosmith. Our eyes lock. Something in the room has just shifted. I think this is bad news for Zara and Hank. He pulls me closer. Yes, this is definitely bad news for Zara and Hank. We leave together, assuming they will figure it out and leave together.

Wildflowers, Tom Petty: It's 1996. Pete has traveled with me to my hometown - the Arcade, as he calls it. I decide it is a good idea to go out to the local bars with Pete, my parents, and an ex-boyfriend (the "crush"). We venture to a bar called the Fish Tank (Which in a later year, I will refer to as Fish Guts, as I stand on a table at a wedding in which I am an attendant, in an attempt to continue the party. While I am successful at arranging an after-party, I never make it myself). Pete takes a chance at using a bathroom clad with pictures of nearly naked women. He re-joins the table and explains that he was asked whether he was "selling" while taking a piss. A common mistake - having long hair in the town of a population of 2,500 and all. Someone puts money in the Juke Box. Tom Petty's voice floods the bar. Pete looks directly in my eyes and sings "You belong among the wildflowers . . . you belong somewhere you feel free." It is the first time I have ever heard him sing. Nobody else is at the table. I am in love.

Cripple Creek, The Band; Scarlet Begonias, Grateful Dead; Uncle Sam, Grateful Dead; and You Turn Me On, Ugly Americans: It's any weekend in 1997 or 1998. Peter and I are on a road trip to somewhere. These songs make the cut every single time. Peter does not sing out loud in the car - except to Cripple Creek, Uncle Sam, and You Turn Me On. It makes me smile. When Scarlet Begonias is on, it is my turn to sing like I have never sung before - even if it does not sound very pleasant.

Real Love, John Lennon: Its 2001. I just graduated from Law School. Took the bar. Bought a first home. Now I am waiting on the top of hill. I walk down the aisle. My mother on one side of me, my father on the other. Jeff takes my hand. Leads me to the rest of our lives. Later that night, we dance.

Van Morrison, Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?" Its 2001. I just graduated from Law School. Took the bar. Bought a first home. Now I am waiting on the top of hill. My mother grabs one of my arms. My father looks at me, a tear in his eye - we both look away. Together, they lead me down the staircase that is our aisle. They let go at the bottom. Peter takes my hand. Later that night, again, my father takes my arm. A tear in his eye. We walk to the dance floor. The music plays, and we sing, "Have I told you lately that I love you? I have told you there's no one else above you?"

Hey Jude, Beatles: It's 2004. I have been told I am having a girl. We name her. Prepare the closet with lots of dresses. In the delivery room, the first words our son hears from his father is "Holy Shit! It's a boy!" I am not shaken at all. We name him Julian. A month later Peter and I leave him with Peter's parents for the first time. We walk into the movie theater. A song is playing - "Hey Jude." I freak out and try to convince Peter that we have to go home - it is a sign. (consequently the girl's name we picked out also had ties to the Lennon family - the short form of the name was to be Luci). Pete convinces me a "sign" is not always bad. But that this was a good sign - just reminding us that we are parents and how truly lucky we are. I have not heard that song in public since.

One, MJB and Bono: Its any day, any time. This song does not take me to any identifiable place, but almost a place outside my being. Another life perhaps. The lyrics are so powerful. It provides a recollection of all the feelings, emotions and passions that you have ever felt - both those that readily come to mind, and those that are buried deep.

Refreshing Recollections

Upon presenting a witness with a question that receives the response, "I don't remember," an attorney can attempt to refresh the witness' recollection. This can be done in many different ways. The most common - a photograph. If I were that witness, a photo would not necessarily aid in creating a picture in my mind the same way a couple less conventional methods would.

Part I: Smells

The Combination of Coffee and Toast: It is 1982. I am six years old. I just finished a hard day of first grade. I was teased a little by my crush (who would remain my crush, even though we dated off and on from 6th grade, until we both started dating those we married) when I showed up sporting my new very short hair cut, which I did not succumb to until after a long, drawn out crying/yelling match with my mother - me, crying, and mom, yelling - about how I could not have long hair if I was not willing to take care of it, i.e., wash it. R.G. wet his pants and had to wear the rug from the playhouse around school the rest of the day, which meant his day was much worse than mine. Then, after recess and telling time on the owl clock, I walked the two and a half blocks to my grandparents house, as I did everyday after school in the first grade. Upon arrival, my grandmother would set up a TV tray and serve me coffee and toast. It was perfect - until my sisters arrived. Yes, my grandmother is probably responsible for stunting my growth, but it was worth it!

Cigars: It is 1986. My grandfather and grandmother are at our house for dinner. Who knows what we ate. Probably some sort of casserole or something with mushroom soup served on top. After dinner, everyone goes into the basement. Sodas for my sisters and me. Beer for my parents and grandparents, and a cigar for my grandfather. The record player goes through Fats Domino, Del Shannon and Buddy Holly. At one point my grandfather stands up, one hand out to my grandmother. She accepts. And they dance, and dance, and dance. I love the smell of cigars.

Sunscreen: It is the summer of 1991, 1992, 1993, and 1994. I spend all of my waking hours at the swimming pool. I arrive at 7 a.m. to supervise lap swim. At 8 a.m. swimming lessons start. A lunch break occurs daily from 12 to 1 p.m. From 1 p.m. to 9 p.m. I model a bright red swimming suit - I own three of the same and seven others - with a white life guard cross on the front. I blow my whistle telling children to "stop that," "no running," and "no splashing." At 9 p.m. we shut the pool down and it is time for the lifeguards to play. We hold races and diving contests. But mostly, we are all friends, just enjoying summer evenings. I still cannot put on sunscreen without being taken back to the way the hard concrete felt on my bare feet, the way the ice cold water hit my skin the first thing in the morning and those summer - those summer nights . . .

Calvin Klein: It is 1992. I am in love for the first time. A first love that will consume years of my time - off and on - until I meet Pete. Something is on the television in his parents basement - where I will spend much of my time - off and on. He leans in. That smell. It lingers in elevators. At check-out lines. When present, it overpowers the coffeehouse coffee. It still sends me reeling.

Tobacco Pipes: It is 1994. I am on spring break with my best friend S and her family. It is my first vacation without my family. I need to bring everyone a souvenir. I am very proud of the treasures I accumulate. Upon arriving home, I hand my father the pipe I bought for his tobacco. Now I know it was probably not for tobacco, but he was so pleased - even upon informing me he no longer smokes a pipe. I was so disappointed. I love that smell - the smell of my father. Like Old Spice, without the bad cologne. It was the first time I knew I missed that smell lingering in the air. Even now, when I go out on the boat with him, I wait for him to pull out the pipe and send the smell of those sweet spices into the air. He never does.

Sunflowers Perfume: It is early 1995. I live in the dorms with my roommate Shell. We both wear the same scent on a daily basis. I am pretty sure I wore it first. Our room smells of Sunflowers all the time. While the smell now makes me a little sick, it also floods me images of what went down in Shoemaker Hall. I should have stayed there longer than a year - I moved on to Ivy I.

Suave: It is 1996. I live in Ivy I with three other girls. "The boys" live down the hall. Doors are always open. We have our first keg party. The place is jammin' - until we are summoned to the hallway and asked "Do you have a permit for that keg?" Busted. Good thing we had three kegs and gave the officers the empty. Everyone clears out, with the special guests given instructions to come back in an hour. I wear the noise violation ticket pinned to my chest, like a medal. Pete is a friend of special guests. He comes back after bar close. We are close enough that I take in the smell of the locks I wish I had. Almost every night since then (until he cut his hair and started using my Aveda hair products - and with the exception of the one year hiatus )I fall asleep to the understated scent of Suave. (Good thing my mother does not read my posts).

Caramel: It is 1998. I am about to graduate from college. I spend as much time as I can with Sarah, when I am not spending time with Pete. It is sunny and warm on her mother's front porch. We sit. Content to do nothing. Drinking caramel tea Sarah brought back with her from France. When she goes back to France, she returns with a stash for me. A stash I have long gone through and cannot find in the U.S. But that smell . . . it still lingers in mugs no longer used for tea.

Tanquery: It is 2000. I am in law school. A new situation calls for a new drink of choice. Skipping out of Torts and spending the hour sipping gin and juice at Grandma's sounds like a fabulous decision. CS explains how she knows she is going to fail contracts. The rest of us tell her she is smart. KM describes the man she met at the bar when she went out by herself the other night. The rest of us ask why she went out by herself. CW leaves the table to telephone her boyfriend. The rest of us whisper she should not do that. I discuss updates on the situation with Pete. The rest nod in what I perceive to be understanding. Torts lets out and the rest of the class start to file in. We still sit in our same booth. Some days we have held that booth since lunch. Tanquery tastes like Christmas. I love Christmas.

Homeland: A Visitor's Guide

The Wisconsin license plate on my Chevy HHR rental (what an odd vehicle) does not seem even remotely unfamiliar. Glancing at the plate upon pick-up from stall 38, it seems as though the plate on the car I drive has always had a white background with black lettering and some red details. Fond memories of my Pontiac Sunbird come rushing back - like that scene in Flatliners, only not so scary. If only Sweet Child 'O Mine was flooding the radio waves, all would be perfect. It's not. I turn the radio louder anyway, Snow Patrol is good, (doesn't everyone really just want someone to lay with them and just forget the world?) but just not the same.

Driving with the windows down into the city of Milwaukee, the air smells vaguely familiar - vaguely. Something is missing. Perhaps it is the absence of cows. Their absence on the side of the road, however, is more than compensated for by the abundance of cows filling shelves of novelty stores along Michigan Avenue, attempting to bring in all the tourists that the State of Wisconsin draws - the Packers, the Brewers, the House on the Rock - who wouldn't come here to buy their necessary cow coasters, T-shirts, shot glasses? Oh - and I shouldn't forget the green and gold - you can get anything - everything in green and gold (which reminds me, I have to stop on my way tomorrow and get that cheese head for Little Pete - you think I am joking, don't you?)

Wisconsin also offers great cuisine. I love the part where the waiters repeatedly address you as "My Queen" throughout dinner - checking in on you say, oh five or six times. No numbers were left on the table. Just a nice tip. That I am not paying for anyway. And to think, I originally snubbed the hotel's recommendation of Applebee's.

The Courtyards in Wisconsin are unprecedented for the amenities. No hand towels in the rooms - it's just a waste anyway. Instead, there are bigger and better bath towels! Blankets - who needs them? The Courtyard Milwaukee Downtown has fancy bed runners that will warm your feet - really the most important part. My mother used to tell me if your feet are warm, the rest of you will be warm. Or am I confusing that with the one about heat escaping from the head, so always wear a hat? Whatever, Courtyard sells hats in its market - they say "GB." They also sell beer. Miller. The Courtyard has a whirlpool that comes with its own gang. A sales person, a marketing consultant and a land developer. No leisure book reading here. When I grew tired of the talk of timber and the President being in town (or maybe it was that I was insulted by the comments about how no would ever guess I was a mother), I was able to retire to my room and choose between drinking a $3.00 bottle of water or a $3.00 pot of Starbuck's coffee,which is proudly brewed here!

I am tired of being a visitor. Maybe I should go for a ride in my burnt orange vehicle. Roll the windows down. Chase cars. That feels more like Home.

Rantings of a 30-year-old

Can you tell I am aging? Do you see the signs of wrinkles creeping into the creases of my eyes? Since both of these pictures are taken during celebrations involving consumption of alcoholic beverages, I have been telling myself for a year that it was the Bombay sapphire - the night in the year 2005 I just had more than the year 2004. I thought that was a legitimate excuse last year, but now, well now, I am not going to include the picture from the year 2006.

Wednesday was my 30th birthday. I am thirty (30). Unfortunately for women, this birthday wrecks havoc on us with regard to our self-image. Just a week ago I got a coupon from a near-by salon for a discount on Botox. Oh my God! Luckily, I have bought into the new Boots skin care line at Target (only the downtown location I discovered), but definitely not Botox or any injections of fat. (Thanks to the episode of Boston Legal where the dermatologist was sued for injecting his own ass fat into two seemingly innocent women - although they liked the results of having his ass . . . oh, I can't go that far here, catch the re-run).

Aside from the beauty issues involved in turning, well, the number I turned, there are life issues. I can't quite decide how I feel about - okay, 30. On other people, 30 never sounded like a big deal. I laughed at Peter during his panic at entering his 3rd decade over 3 years ago. I thought he was so silly. Now I know. Everyone really likes being in their 20s. 20-something is good. Fond memories exist of the fabulous, exhausting 21st birthday party. Graduating college. Really being on your own. Falling in love. Graduating law school. Passing the bar. Getting married. Owning your first home, new car, boat. Having a child. Seems like everything was packed right there in the second decade of life.

What else was left? Well, I had plans - plans of what I wanted to do and what I would accomplish before 30 hit. The laundry list: write and publish a book; live in a state other than Wisconsin or Minnesota; travel to Belize; wake up early enough to walk the dog AND enjoy coffee; stick to a regular work out routine; speak Spanish fluently; learn/practice Karate (I am not sure of what you "do" with marshal arts); and find a way to be active in my community again about something I truly care about (Just today I was told - A, you gotta have a passion - that is actually a whole other entry - how to deal with religious freaks that are trying to convert you/save your soul). A co-worker informed me that I should not be so worried about what I have not done; that at the age of 30 he was just happy to be alive. I understand this for him, and I mean no disrespect, but for me, I have always strived for more than just breathing.

In the few days since I have turned 30, I have been thinking about the decade to come and why hitting this marker has hit me harder than others. In the end I have decided to move on from that topic. There is no sense focusing on the fact that to date, I have never seen a Moose, have never slept in one of those little huts over the water under Mosquito netting, have never scaled mountains. If I wait a few more years, I might not want to! For instance, I am no longer so set on living somewhere other than Wisconsin or Minnesota (although both Peter and I agree London or almost anywhere in Canada would be cool). If I wait long enough, maybe someday I will give up on my plan to walk the dog in the mornings or maybe I will switch to tea (very doubtful, but who knows). Helpful in my journey to this revelation was the card from my friend S, which was in response to the "Knuckle Down Revisited" post, carrying the advice that changing your life starts with changing your underwear! Now that I can do! Believe it or not - this card does have deeper meaning to me - not to take things so seriously. Not to be so set on sticking to The Plan. So I have not jumped out of a moving airplane yet (or one that is not moving, for that matter). Who cares? Instead, I have a wonderful family, one that includes a beautiful son, who makes it so much more fulfilling to teach him the pieces of Spanish that I do know, rather than learning the rest by myself. The Plan can be modified.

Maybe age is just a number. Maybe I will never settle into that regular work-out routine and being a morning person. One thing is certain, I will come up with a New Plan, because one thing I have realized over these 30 years is that is just the type of person I am. And look closer at the person I am - maybe the "eye creases" aren't THAT bad.

Father Figure

Ahhhh . . . water, water, water! (or, as Little Pete says, wa-der, wa-der, wa-der!) Happy Father's Day, Peter!

Warning: Mild Violence. Brief Nudity.

As an attorney practicing products liability, I am all too familiar with warning signs - warning signs, warning signs, everywhere warning signs. Every time I read ridiculous verbiage plastered on a package, I dream up the Statement of Facts that set the lawsuit into play that resulted in the "Warning!" Currently the list includes a Double Burner, i.e, a portable stove with two burners. Stamped between the two burners is the following urgent message: WARNING: DO NOT USE AS A PORTABLE HEATER! A Humidifier contains the phrase, WARNING: THIS HUMIDIFIER PRODUCES STEAM. And a deep fryer that goes into specifics - CAUTION: Use Caution when deep frying flour tortillas. Flour tortillas contain air bubbles. During deep frying oil can become trapped in these bubbles. If not properly drained, bubbles can burst and cause burns. Therefore, after deep frying tortillas, carefully raise them out of the cooking oil, and allow oil to drain for 30 seconds. Warning signs. Very useful.

Recently, I was on a business trip where I had to drive for miles and miles by myself late at night (early in the morning) to what seemed like the very tip of Long Island. I was lost outside the airport and then again in Queens. Apparently, "Airport Exit" was not deemed a very useful posting in New York. After I made my way onto the road I was to travel until the highway ended, I started paying attention to the Signs. Warning Signs. As I drove, I contemplated how useful some of these signs would be while off-roading as well:

1. Do Not Cross Buffer: There are many different definitions of "buffer." The applicable ones are: "a cushion-like device that reduces shock due to contact; to protect from impact; 'cushion the blow' [syn: cushion, soften]." I use people as buffers to other people. You know what I am talking about. There are certain people you won't go to lunch with or have drinks with without a buffer. Buffers are good. Leave them in place. Do not cross. I like the reminder.

2. Sharp Turn: There are so many. I would appreciate the "heads up".

3. No Trucks or Buses in Right Lane: So not really a warning for those of us that do not drive trucks or buses, but I would take this lane every time. All I hear every time I am in the car with Little Pete now is "Whooo. . . Mama, Big Duck! Mama, Bus! Bus! M A M A!" This is repeated over and over to until we reach our final destination. By the way, "Duck" is "Truck."

4. Dead End: Anything that can help avoid this mistake would be good. For instance, when I am trying to explain to Little Pete why he cannot go outside at 9:00 p.m., if someone could hold up this sign, it might save me some time. I could move right on to "Because."

5. Minimum Speed 40 mph: This warning is not useful to me, but to others in my life. No slow pace here. Keep up. Little Pete seems to have no problem with this. On occasion, Peter does.

6. Abrupt Stops: See above. Again, a warning for others - stay back a safe distance.

7. Low Flying Aircraft: I just like it.

Before beginning the movie I am currently watching I was warned: Mild Violence. Brief Nudity. Again, good heads up. You think I am digressing, however, I hear this could be a useful road sign. A slightly altered version of this would have been good for Peter the other day when he drove up and looked over at the man in the car next to him. He was only wearing a bra. Peter laughed violently - but not until after the light turned green.