ORGANIC!

The Parkers have gone Organic.....much to my family's chagrin. That's right, no more cheez doodles or oreos for this crowd. I think I am going to have a mutiny on my hands soon, but I am forging ahead because I feel it's for the greater good. As you know, I read that book, the Omnivore's Dilemma and it was all downhill from there. For the past month, we have been about 80% organic with a few contraband items still filling our pantry shelves, but I am happy to say, I have successfully expunged most of the offending items now and pretty much everything we have is free of pesticides and preservatives. So, are we starving on this twig and berry diet. That's a Hell No! So far this week we have had grass fed beef and wild caught shrimp with fingerling potatoes, grilled local pork chops with fresh broccoli, chicken fajitas with jasmine rice and tonight we had lobster and pasta with garlic butter. The Organic life is tasty, but, alas......expensive.
Now you know I am married to a wonderful man who is, rather cheap. So, you can imagine what is running through his head when I come home with my bounty of foodstuff from Whole Foods (or Whole Paycheck, as it's sometimes referred). I can see the numbers in his head "kaching, kaching!" as I unload fresh asparagus and free range chicken. Yikes! Now, I agree it's more expensive, but I think it's worth it. Since I ditched the processed food, I am already seeing an improvement in my psoriasis and I seem to have a little more energy. Now that might be psychosomatic, but really there's gotta be some benefit to eliminating all those additives *I hope! In an effort to be thrifty, I joined a CSA, because if you do the math, it's much cheaper to buy veggies that way since Organic veggies are so expensive at the Grocery Store (longer food chain too). That seemed to help Marker to breathe a little easier. Although I think I see his eye twitch occasionally when he sees all the Whole Foods bags. Tonight I heard him shout, "Did you really pay $4.00 for Bread Crumbs." Ok, so it's gonna be an uphill battle. Between the lack of pop tarts and white bread in the house to the increased grocery bill, the transition may be tough. But I am committed! Wish me luck!

Mother's Day

So, Mother's Day is this weekend. I like this holiday (but then again, haven't we established I like all holidays). I love to celebrate motherhood. Of course, that makes sense, I am, after all, a "Mama." I love being a Mama...although about 30 minutes ago when every room I went into, my children followed, I wished for a few minutes peace..I really do love it. I am fortunate that my kiddos are so diverse in age. Michaela, being 15, is really growing up and we have these adult conversations that are sarcastic and judgmental and hilarious. Kayleigh at ten, is really just coming into her own with confidence and humor. Sure, she's a bit dramatic, but generally, she's a freaking hoot. Even when she's being a total goofball, which I of course enjoy as well. And Matty, well what can I say? He's my favorite, most annoying, star wars loving cuddle bug. I have already shared with many of you the hours of my life that I have lost discussing the finer points of the Clone Wars and the differences between Jengo Fett and Boba Fett. But I really wouldn't trade those conversations for anything. I know someday, they won't be that interested in chatting with me for hours on end and then what? Oh right, perhaps then, Mark and I will be able to have an uninterrupted conversation with....wait for it....EACH OTHER. Jeez, what the hell will we talk about? Perhaps now, when we have something to chat about, we should hold back and save it for when we're old. Oh, who am I kidding, I can't remember what I was supposed to tell him after dinner, forget about 15 years from now. That's right...15 years until Matty turns 21 years old. Doesn't that seem like forever? But, you know what? It's gonna fly by. And before you know it, they will be all grown up. And I will be sitting her on the Tuesday before Mother's Day hoping for a visit or a call or a card from the three amigos. So, this mother's day I am milking it Baby! We are going to Portland for the day and I am going to be showered with love from my kiddos. I sure am one of the most blessed people on the planet. Happy Mother's Day to all my fellow mommies! Enjoy the day!

Soldiers, God and the Fear of Flying

Anyone who knows me knows that I HATE to fly. I am not a good flyer at all. I have always hated the whole deal, closed tight spaces--claustrophobia sets in; the whole take off thing--I am deathly afraid of heights; and don't even get me started about the turbulence, air rage, tiny seats and uppity stewardesses (sorry, flight attendants). The whole thing sucks! Now normally, I need to have a few drinks to get me through a flight, and even then, I am jumpy and nervous through the whole affair.
So, on Wednesday, I had to visit a client in Charlotte NC. I flew out of Bangor to Philadelphia then Philly to Charlotte. Since I was flying out of Bangor, that meant a very small plane (20 seats)....ugh! When I got to Bangor Airport to check in, I found out that the flight was delayed by about an hour due to "weather" nice. Faced with the prospect of 3 hours in the airport, I headed for the cocktail lounge to have a libation to take the edge off. While sitting there, I ran into some old pals from my days at MBNA and as luck would have it, they were also on my flight so now I had company for my 3 hour wait. We chatted and laughed and had a few glasses of wine, it was a great way to pass the time.
Did I mention the airport was filled with US Army soldiers. Apparently, Bangor Airport is a huge thoroughfare for soldiers deploying or returning from Iraq and Afghanistan. So, while we were there, a planeload of Kids (19- 21 yr olds) coming back from an 18 month tour in Iraq arrived. It was an amazing experience to be standing there when they got off the plane. Some kissed the ground, happy to be back on American soil. Some immediately called their families, some ran outside for a cigarette. I talked to some girls in the bathroom who said they had been on a plane for almost 24 hours and that they were so glad to be home so they could wash their hair with hot water. This to them was a luxury. The Troop Greeter team was there too....delivering messages to the kids from their family and helping others reach their loved ones. What a neat experience.

OK, so what does one have to do with the other? Well, after this experience (and a couple glasses of wine) I had an epiphany. I said to myself, "Jill, your such a wimp. Your life is so easy yet you get all jammed up by flight delays, and your stupid self absorbed fear of flying---SUCK IT UP" (what can I say, my inner voice is a bit bitchy) I got on the plane a short time later and for the first time in my life, I looked out the window during takeoff. Instead of freaking out, I thought about how blessed I am and how beautiful the world below is. I gave my fear to god and thanked him for blessing me with the wisdom to know that I am a total jackass about flying. I wasn't nervous. I wasn't scared...I was just at peace. During the next 2 days, I had 3 more flights and the peace remained. No fear, just the realization that God will call me home when he's ready for me and if it happens to be while I am on an airplane, so be it. I flew back into Bangor on Thursday night on the same small plane in extremely windy conditions. It was a bumpy approach to say the least. But I was cool as a cucumber....chatting with the "flight attendant" Robert (we're on a first name basis now) not even thinking about the horrible turbulence. I let the fear go....and flying was a hell of a lot more fun.

I am heading to Vegas on Monday night. Flying out of Boston on jet blue. And I will be calm, cool and collected. And if not, there's always the "in flight beverage service."

Valentine's Day....A Sickness

I am a romance junkie. Love hearts, flowers, kisses, all things romantic. My husband, Mark, well he is.....a guy. Therefore, he is not a romance junkie. To add insult to injury, he is extraordinarily practical, so the whole Valentine's Day allure completely escapes him. Thus, the Parker's have a conundrum. Every year, around February 1st, we both start to get antsy. He sweats it out, knowing he will have to do something for V-Day, but not really wanting to, not because he doesn't love me, just because it's not how he is wired. Meanwhile, I am ready to freebase on romance. I picture beautiful roses and candlelit dinner and well, you can guess what else. So, since the two of us are on such different planes, this is clearly a recipe for disaster. So here we sit, on Valentine's day, with all this pressure. (mostly caused by me). This year, Mark sent me beautiful flowers to my office on Friday. A lovely gesture that made my day. Today, I planned a nice dinner, hoping we could put Matty to bed early and have a little grown up time....and a lot of wine! Alas, my husband absently invited a friend of ours over for dinner. Once this friend remembered it was Valentine's day (clearly they have no issues at their house) he politely declined. But, this brought up the whole V-Day issue again. I had told him several times about the dinner, yet he forgot. Even when our friend asked what I was making and I said Steak and Lobster, Mark was still saying to him, "Oh come over, it's gonna be good." Giving the fact that I was planning this for Valentine's day, no thought whatsover.
Now, here's the real problem. I get upset, but end up feeling so stupid because I have become "crazy valentine lady" whose husband bought her flowers and loves her and she's still not happy. What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe I watch too many movies or hallmark card commercials. I don't know. Any ideas?

Incomplete Sentences

My son is 6 years old.
That means, for the last several years, I have been unable to complete a sentence.
Every time, I try to say something remotely meaningful to my husband, he interrupts me.
I am always three quarters of the way through the sentence and he says, "um, mumma?" I usually say, "hold on sweetie, I am talking." I continue on, trying to complete my thought, which believe me is a challenge to my brain anyway. Three more words come out of my mouth and here he comes again "um mumma." (now he's a bit more insistent) To which, I say, "let me finish what I am telling daddy." Three more words and now he's downright pushy, "Mumma!" Finally, I say, "what Matthew?" His response......"Enzo has more snowtrooper legos than I do and the ATT Walker" (whatever the hell that is)

If he wasn't so stinkin cute, I would tell him that maybe he should move to Enzo's house since the Legos are clearly superior to ours and then he could drive his mom crazy for a while. But then, I remember I love him. Which is a good thing, because if I didn't, I would have sold him to strangers long before now.
So, for now, I long for the day when I can complete a thought uninterrupted. Oh what a joyous day that will be. I am thinking I should be good around 2020.
Now if this post doesn't get me that mother of the year award, nothing will.

Boston!

I am on the train, on my way back from a trip to Boston with my pal Lisa. What a lovely time.
We shopped, we spa'd, we ate, we drank and we walked. All without worry about little feet keeping up and with nary a whine from anyone asking for chocolate milk. Last night, as aI sat at the hotel bar having a nightcap (at 9:00 PM) while I waited for Lisa to return from yet another trip to JCrew (what can I say, she had to get the pants in blue too) I was chatting with some people visiting boston for the "lumber products" convention. They were from Baltimore and had to extend their trip to Boston for a few days due to the blizzard in the Mid Atlantic region. I thought it was interesting that there were so many "wood people" in one place. One guy actually introduced himself by saying, "I'm Ted, I'm in Wood." Wow. I forget how many possible careers there are out there.
Lisa and I were fascinated that the hotel was also home to the "Black Nurses Conference" We were going to try to crash the cocktail hour, but we thought we might be obvious since we are neither nurses nor are we....black. That got us wondering. Is there a"White Nurses Conference?" Wouldn't there be an uproar over that? Oh well, whatever.
As we traveled from one end of Boston to the other, we frequented several taxis. Why do all taxis (or taxi drivers) smell vaguely of moroccan spices and BO? And who are they talking to on that bluetooth? Osama Bin Laden? Could be.
Last night, we had dinner with an old and dear friend of mine from high school. We went to the North End and ate fabulous prosciutto, and shrimp and bistecca alla fiorentina. Our main main Franco at La Dolce Vita treated us like Rock Stars.....love it. Top that with the Champagne and Pedicures at Melt and you have the makings of a perfect girls getaway. Meeting the "Wood People" was really just a bonus.
So now, I am on the train, heading back to reality. I am sure my hubby and kids will be thrilled to see me and I will cook them something yummy for dinnner and cuddle with Matty tonight. And this little getaway will hold me for awhile. In about 3 or 4 months, I will get the itch again. The stress will build and I will need a little "Jilly Time" The good news is, I have any number of like minded pals I can call and we can escape.

Sumo Pantyhose...."Baby, that's so not hot"

Ya know what women love? Let me tell you what we love. We love when our husband says something to acknowledge our perceived beauty, sexiness, brains, ability to play scrabble, cooking prowess etc. That's what really melts our butter. You see, we normally plow through life at top speed, with barely a moment to comb our hair and put on lipstick so when our beloved hubby notices something special about us, it just makes us all warm and fuzzy inside.
And if the comment happens to indicate that we are hot, sexy, smokin, beautiful or reasonable facsimile? Forget it, you just made our day. The problem is, 99 minutes out of every hundred, we are the furthest thing from hot, sexy or smokin. Instead, we are "Mom making chocolate milk", or "wife balancing the checkbook", or "silly blogging wife who loves to read her own blather." And believe me friends, there ain't nothing hot about that.
So, because life gets in the way of our "inner hotness" those comments from our hubbies are often few and far between. And all too often, just as we are on the cusp of sexy, we quickly downshift back to reality and blow the whole moment.
Take this morning for example. My fabulous husband is dressed and ready to head out to work. I am sitting on the bed putting on a pair of pantyhose while he is pacing back and forth looking for his wallet, keys, phone, to do list, or any combination of the three. As I lean over to put on the pantyhose, he gets a cleavage shot and makes a comment like, "that's a nice cleavage shot babe, thanka that was hot." (that's all it takes, it really wasn't even a compliment, but we take what we can get). So I am feeling all aglow in my hotness and then I stand up and do, what can only be described as the "sumo move" to pull up my pantyhose. (every woman reading this knows exactly the move I am talking about) And my husband then says....."okay baby, don't ever do that in front of me again, because that was so not hot!" And so it was gone. For one moment I was channeling my inner J-Lo and the next thing you know, I am channeling Akebono. Definitely not hot!
Lesson learned ladies, lesson learned.