As I move about today churning yet another load of laundry, say the fifteenth load of the week (and it is only Wednesday), trying desperately to finish reading "The Devil Wears Prada" (which I started in the summer but for reasons beyond my control got pushed to the side) and between commercials of TLC's "What Not to Wear" I looked down at myself realizing I may be faulted as a victim. I may have even sunk lower than one could imagine, although I absolutely love my new fashion item-- the Hanes Her Way V-neck T-shirts.

I can almost hear Miranda Priestly shrieking in horror as I cowardly admit the designer of my simple little "look relaxed wear it anywhere" white T is none other than the maker of mans most loved tighty whities. Doubled in grisliness by the vision of Stacey and Clinton confiscating my comfortable yet delicious white (and black) T-'s that compliment my black Gap trousers and Levi's. Justifying to all those fashionistas, it puts a new feminine face on the "wife beater" and almost shames Kevin Federline's.

If starlet's like Christina Applegate can advertise the product it must be great fashion. Who could, would challenge that?

Dare I confess I purchased the T's at Walgreens in the isle between Jessica Simpson's Dessert Beauty cosmetic line and Preparation H? Just the mere fact that Jessica Simpson is selling her product at Walgreens is another validation that my Hanes Her Way V-neck T-shirts are fashion forward.

So if I am in any way going to be forced to stand before you all and admit I have fallen prey to the "mommy syndrome" I can not, I won't, I refuse because...because I like comfort and I love my Hanes Her Way V-neck T-shirts!

Alee is excited she found out today she will be going to Bolixi Mississippi this December to work in the efforts of repairing a community devastated from Hurricane Katrinia.

Just a matter of personal opinion...Does a store titled Forever 21 imply you can dress like you are 21 forever? I think not! Which means, 60 year old lady with the cole black dyed hair you are to old to shop in the junior store. Great figures do not always mean dressing below your age. Some women need to learn the true meaning of defying age. There are four simple words I wanted to say to this grandma " what not to wear!"

Do not worry I wasn't shopping in that store for me, I was with my girls.

I went her Freshman year (they played God Bless America), I didn't go last year (they played God Bless America) or this year (they played the National Anthem). This morning looking at the pictures I am feeling guilty. We should have bought tickets and gone. Oh well can't reverse time. There is next year! On a good note the Cards beat the Cubs.

Maddi is a hoot!

This morning she left for school loaded down like a pack mule--backpack, binder, clarinet, and a purse. I watched for a while, her walking to the corner bus stop. I was afraid she would tip over; weebles wooble but they don't fall down sprung to my mind as I studied her every step.

Tell me what in the heck, being in eighth grade, she needs to carry a purse the size of carry on luggage. I affectionately refer to the "xoxo" bag as "her bag of tricks". You need hair product she's got it. You need a snack she's got it. You have dry skin scented lotion is on it way. She even has a McDonald's Polly Pocket Happy Meal toy, it has become the purse mascot and "all my friends love her". Well I bet they love her but is there a need to strain your spine?

Girls! Will I ever figure mine completely out?

We survived the first day of the new school year!

I celebrated the occasion by watching a rated R movie and feasting on fresh pineapple...plus I did about ten loads of laundry.

When my army of girls arrived home at 3pm they entered the house in a chorus of stories, one trying to over talk the other. Alee couldn't stop talking about the odd nature of her photojournalism teacher. Maddi was in a pickle over the locker partner situation but was joyous that her two closest friends have the same lunch period and Demi could not stop telling stories about some annoying boy. It sent Kevin's head spinning so he smiled and retreated to the basement, knowing full well he would go on the attack for his own information via a cell phone call [while working the night shift] later.

At one brief point of silence while they stared into the refrigerator and pantry-- as all three neared starvation-- I calmly asked Demi "so middle school wasn't that bad was it". "No it was fine" she replied. "Not worth all that lost sleep huh?" "No it wasn't". Why don't they ever trust there mom?

Then came the papers. The last time my signature was in such demand I was purchasing a house.

If I didn't risk mine and my children's life once, I was being instructed to do it again with a new list of school supplies. Grabbing a note pad the girls began listing off item by item:

• one graphing calculator
• one AP US History review book
• one black 1/2" three ring binder with a clear view pocket (for 6th grade choir)
• two 1/2" three ring binders (for PE and some other class)
• ten dividers
• package of page protectors
• 3-subject notebook
• two composition notebooks

Round two of school supply shopping equaled up to enough that I was considering contacting, again,that Chinese organ harvester and offering up my recently rejuvenated liver. I layed out a Franklin and a Jefferson in a matter of an hour, jeopardizing our lives in not one but three stores. Oh yes, I forgot I signed a paper that requested I shell over one Hamilton , one Lincoln and one Washington for a polo style choir shirt. Tomorrow I am making an announcement over the PA system it will go something like this... "I am b-r--r-o-k-e! Schools can you hear me? I broke, broke, broke, broke!

It was a beautiful night of uninterrupted sleep. So sweet that was.

Day Two of the school year:

Alee started zero hour so I was making lunches at 530am with my eyes still practically matted shut and then driving down Lindbergh Blvd with my bad breath and bed head at 615am. Zero hour is brutal for me.

The perpetual signing of my name continued on. Can't I just write one letter that says I promise my kid(s) will behave, follow any and all rules you scribe and I will volunteer to help in the classroom and attend field trips. But I refuse to serve cookies and punch after middle and high school music concerts. Ending with my lovely unlegible signature. This would spare me and a thousand other parents from the threat of carpal tunnel syndrome.

As the evening rolls to its end the panic of what to wear is setting in and a myriad of fashion options in question are on the runway (in this case the kitchen tile floor). It seems around this house clothing is equal in importance to homework. Which means it is pretty darn important.

I will now slip in my night shirt, grab a bottle of water and nestle into the couch for an episode of Project Runway.

After a very short night--Demi extremely nervous about the starting of middle school--I managed to catch a few winks of sleep between the hours of 2-6am. Demi woke after her short night only to begin freaking out again, this time over when she is to eat lunch "no one ever told me what time lunch is!" Maddi now the eighth grader (big man on campus) assured her she will be instructed through each step of the day and she will NOT miss lunch. The teachers will help her find the choir room and grant mercy to all sixth graders who are tardy to class; for at least the first week.

Maddi on the other hand is only concerned that she looks "like a freak with a red eye" and carefully styled her hair to drape over her right eye, keeping her eye glasses at bay. Which she better have on during her classes or I'll be a mad mom.

Alee is dealing with the embarrasment of being the oldest (a HS Junior) standing at the bus stop with middle schoolers, "I'll just tell anyone who asks that I didn't get a parking permit". To which I replied when they ask to see your driver license what will you show, "okay so I'll say I don't have my drivers license". Honesty is always the best route. There is not a darn thing wrong with the transporation option my tax dollars provide learn to love it!

At the request of a first day of school photo Alee spurts off "are you serious that is so gay mom" I'm serious girls! It wasn't like I was going to snap it while standing at the bus stop. So I got my photo to mark the moment in time...Alee concerned now that her 13 yr old sister is taller than she with a 1/2 kitten heal pump. Sorry big sister you are your short mom's girl. Don't they all look so grown up--pausing to have a moment--and so absolutely georgous!

Remember way back in time -- 1971-- when the world was signing the Coca-Cola jingle "I'd Like to Buy The World a Coke"? Well my family is on a plea for the world to buy coke and give us your coke reward points.

For a long time I just pitched to the trash all those bottle caps and 12 pack packaging with there mysterious secret letter and number codes. Then one day I decided to register and see what all these points could get us. The usual small stuff was available; for 11 points one can get a 20 oz bottle of coke. For a few more points a movie and popcorn from Blockbuster along with an assortment of other lovely prizes increasing in point value. Prizes I suppose one could almost procure at lesser the price than it would take to obtain by purchasing a bevy of Coca-Cola. But that would defeat the challenge it gives to all. Talk about marketing genius!

So I told my family why dream small let's dream BIG. Let's dream 26,000 reward points big!

What can one attain for a mere 26,000 reward points? The Great Family Trip-RV America.
Package Includes: One week Standard RV rental for a party of five (based on pick up and drop off at sponsor designated RV rental facility closest to member's home market) Gasoline allowance of 200 gallons. Generator fees included. Seven night campground fees. $1,000 spending money to be used towards RV mileage.

Now this has become a sick sort of obsession. Yesterday I called my elderly neighbor and told her for all the years I have changed her light bulbs I can't continue to do so unless she is willing to relinquish to her good neighbor her Coke reward points. Being afflicted with arthritis she agreed without argument, as she saw it to be a good deal. Then today while working at my brother's newly acquired house I saw an empty Coke 12 pack box, quickly nabbing the reward code for my own benefit I slid the code in my back pocket in a hush-hush manner. I'm telling you all I'm beginning to think I need therapy...And a Diet Coke.

Maddi came up with the brillant criminal plan of breaking into the grocery store at night and removing all the point codes from the packaging. How criminal can it be when we leave the product? Then we decided we would end up on that "stupid crime list" that is complied every year and spreads through email boxes like a bad fire. So we bagged the idea as fast as it was dreamed up. Demi thought maybe dumpster diving could pull us in a few needed points. Alee said not an option she didn't have the right outfit for such an event. So we're going at it the honest way, one coke at a time.

So to date we have managed to drink (beg and steal) 154 reward points. Subtract that from 26,000 we need and we are just a few --okay okay 25,846-- points away from cruising America RV style.

Or as Maddi put... "25, 846 rotting our liver points away from cruising America RV style."

"Have a Coke and a Smile"

Still healing, but looking better and better each day.  

K: Babe dig out my blue thongs

J: Okay

J: Girls did you hear your dad he wants me to dig out his blue thongs

M: sick!

J: I was thinking the same thing, if your dad owns any blue thongs I can guarentee all it would not be a pretty sight.

J: Here babe I've got your "thongs". Now do yourself a favor and be politically correct when speaking around your daughters. What you use to call thongs are now referred to as flip flops. Thongs are now underwear.

She is healing nicely
One Week Post Op

The girls each have there own beginner cooking specialties-- Alee was scrambled eggs, Maddi was mashed potatoes, and Demi's is pancakes.

Excited at the idea of cooking breakfast for her family she set her alarm for 7am. She mixed the batter. She heated the griddle. Prepared the pancakes with perfection and love.

Today she is adding crispy bacon to her menu--usually prepared prior to the pancakes Demi is doing her steps backwards. She has left the kitchen to check out the morning TV options, not understanding the delicate nature of bacon to a hot falme.

Here I sit listening to the bacon sizzle.

Every great cook has a burned a thing or two?

Welcome my family to Breakfast at Demi's!

I think the power of Maddi's one eyed status was underestimated...

In a game of Scrabble, by dimmed light, she spelt the word "optical". She was first on the board-double the points, used all seven letters in one turn- 50 point bonus.

After that move there was no catching the one eyed wonder. She dominated the game.

Combine that with a visit from her closest friend and my girl was of risen spirits.

Maddi returned to Dr. Blatt's today, she has good deal of swelling in the eye but doesn't appear to have an infection. He gave the okay to try cold dry compresses to reduce the swelling; continue ointment and drops in the eye with doses of extra strength Tylenol for her discomfort. She has a bit of a black, no purplish, eye. Without a doubt she looks 110% better than she did when she had surgery 4 years ago. Her alignment looks really good he said. Hopefully by the weekends end she will be opening her eye. Until then we continue to live bat cave style and she wears fashionable sunglasses when leaving the house. She'll return Aug 21 for a little more poking and probing at the eye.

Dr. Blatt said "she looks more beautiful than before... if that is even possible" :-)

I crawled in bed near midnight leaving Maddi in front of the TV as desired. My theory was let her be totally exhausted so when I wake her in the morning to hit the road at 6am she will be to tired to care about what was going to occur.

So there I lay dreaming about trying new blush colors at a department store make up counter when the dream was interrupted at 5am by the sounds of Kevin running the shower; my sleep broke reminding me of what the days agenda was.

We woke Maddi with just enough spare time to brush her teeth before going from bed to car in her new PJ's-- which I might add are absolutely adorable.

We were just merging onto Highway 40 when I got a glimpse of a tear rolling down her cheek. My theory of being to tired to care didn't go as I thought.

We arrived at the surgery center at 630am for a 730am surgery. At 7am I turned to Kevin and said as repeat customers of the eye surgery experience I would think she should be getting prepped. With that a nurse approached us inquiring what time Maddi's was scheduled and what time we were told to be at the surgery center, only to find out that the surgery was scheduled for 830am. Unfortunately that is not what our papers told us. So their Maddi was left with more time to expand on her fears and the tears began to stream in a silent and gentle manner.

Finally at 8am Maddi was being prepped for surgery. Dr. Ryan came in to greet us, start Maddi’s IV and give her a medicated patch behind her ear that would help reduce the nausea she had in her previous surgery from an adverse reaction to anesthetic. Dr. Ryan is quite handsome, so easy on the eyes I was almost willing to take the IV for Maddi ;-) LOL No more did he leave her curtained area did she begin crying. He returned with a does of "happy juice" guaranteed to calm her anxiety...calm it did not. I leaned down kissed her on the head and softly spoke in her ear reminding her God protects all those he loves and since he loves everyone she was well protected and would be okay planting yet another kiss this one on her cheek. She begged us to take her home. Her fear then turned to trembles, which Maddi was sure meant she was freezing cold, before you know it she was layered 5 warm blankets deep and still shivering. At 845am Rose (Dr. Blatt's assistant) stopped in to check on Maddi before surgery and one look at Maddi and Rose was filled with tears. I looked at Rose and said "oh no, only one of us is allowed to cry today and that does not mean you or me"

At 10am a nurse appeared to let us know Dr. Blatt was just about finished with her surgery. At 1045am he met us and let us know all was well, he only worked on her right eye by tightening the upper muscles and shortening the outer muscles, she was patched on the right eye and should remain patched till tomorrow. Despite the extra measures they took to constrict the capillaries and control her excessive bleeding nature he said she still bleeds more than usual patient. I only pray that when the eye patch comes off tomorrow she doesn't look like she lost a fight with Mike Tyson (as she did last time from the excessive bleeding) When we asked Dr. Blatt is she was done with surgeries he was quite sure this should do the trick for her and no more future surgery. I do hope this holds true!

Another 45 minutes passed and we went back to Maddi who was in a total state of lethargy. I leaned down again, something I seem to do often of late, kissed Maddi on the head and said "you need wake up and drink a few sips of Sprite or Coke". In a low soft dragged tone I could make out she said, "I just want to sleep". Again I said "Maddi you need to wake up drink, it's your ticket out of here, remember I promised you I would take you home" and then the low soft drag turned up, she managed to pull from the depths of her soul a sentence of anger; "you're a meanie head I wanted to go home before my eye hurt" and the tears returned, a very sad pout sprung from her lips which triggered a moan of a piercing headache. A quick shot of Demerol in the IV and she was drifting off again.

Rose stopped by to ask how she was and I said achy, tired and weepy but coherent enough to let me know I am a "meanie head", but assure you I said, "my head may be mean but from the neck down I am pretty nice."

Finally little sips of Sprite from a straw and I dressed Maddi and she was in the wheel chair heading out the door. Now Maddi was nothing more than a wet noodle going for a ride in that four wheeled apparatus but I was keeping my promise and taking her home as requested. I rested her head on my lap in the back seat while our chauffer daddy took our newly perfected babe home to recuperate.

Maddi has been resting quietly in a dark room since we arrived home shortly before 1pm. I check on her often but the signs of her rousing from her sleep look light years away. But when she does wake I have pain killers, Campbell's chicken noodle soup w/ the gold fish noodles and rainbow sherbet waiting to speed up the healing process...oh yes and lots of kisses and hugs!

I speak to soon, 430pm and stumbling out in a zombiesque state she comes clutching her eye.
I will part now to grab my Florence Nightingale garb and go to work…

It is quiet in our house, all are sleeping (or pretending to be) and here I sit with only my thoughts to reflect on this day.

This morning as we sat in church I suddenly noticed Maddi began to have tears creeping out the corners of her eyes. I knew what it was all about and I merely extended my arm to her back where I gently rubbed it with my mothering touch. The place where I thought she might find peace...well I don't know. That did not stop me from praying my own prayers. A prayer to comfort, strengthen, ease her fears...

Leaving church Alee was first in line (of our family) to greet our ministers. Libbie first hugged Alee saying she would miss her next weekend as the youth presented to the congregation moments from the youth convention. Then Libbie gave Maddi a big hug, smiled at her and said "I will be praying for you on Wednesday". She went on to remind Maddi that she is just having her beauty perfected a bit more. Maddi shook her head with a bit of melancholy, looked at Libbie and than began to cry. Which made Libbie tear up and then me. Libbie because she is a minister that wears her heart on her sleeve. Me, because moms hurt with there kids for there kids. Maddi ran off to the church bathroom to finish her cry.

I continue to let her work through her fear her own way. Be it crabbiness, tears...

Tonight I went in her room after she turned her lights out; she was relaxed. I went down on bended knee kissed her cheek and reminded her God is never far away he will be with her to protect, guide and work the hands of those who are doing nothing more then perfecting the beauty she has so richly been blessed with. I reiterated that those of us who love her know she is already beautiful, no matter what. I told her that no matter how many times in life she angers me or disappoints me that the joy and pride she brings to my life out weighs all other moments and that I love her more than anything in the world. She then asked me to say her prayers and we prayed her childhood bedtime prayer- there are four corners on my bed there are four angels at its head Matthew, Mark, Luke and John bless the bed that Maddi lies on. Then I did what I use to do for years -but in laziness stoppedme- I gently rubbed her back while I said criss cross apple sauce spiders crawling up your back now you've got the chills. Planting yet another kiss on her cheek I closed the door so she could drift off to sleep.

I do believe that one day Maddi will realize that the gift of sight is a wonderful commodity regardless the steps it takes to keep it--whether she retains it through numerous surgeries and a life time of wearing eye glasses.

I'll remind her again tomorrow she's my girl and I love her!

I survived!

Shopping with five girls aged 11-16 calls for a celebration--a martini!

The stress that can build while clothes and shoes are flying past your face, your name being called from 5 different directions while beckoning for a cell to use the calculator tool to figure out discounts and the remaining balance of the shopping allowance is enough send any stable mother to drinking. Maybe even straight to the nut house for a prolonged stay. Actually, any sensible woman would have jumped ship on this adventure long before she even turned the key on the mini van and backed out of the garage.

I did however do something I rarely do for myself, I purchased a pair of shoes for just me. No one can ask to borrow my beautiful sporty white leather Reeboks because my feet finally are the smallest in the family. It is such a sweet sensation knowing my shoes are finally going to be right where I left them. Now I must admit I hate to shop. I may be the only women in the history of the world to say that but it is true, I HATE SHOPPING. So finding these delicious little morsals of a shoe at Macy's sent me into complete and utter euphoria. Imagine... $64 shoes for a mere $16.24 and tax free to boot. It may even be enough to jump start me back into my former exercise regiment and into my size 6 pants.

As I sit here letting my new sporty Reeboks comform to my feet I think the stress of shopping with more girls than the legal limit allows is releasing from my body. I think I will go celebrate my purchase with an afternoon martini...because you know it is five o'clock somewhere.

Yesterday was my birthday-inching ever closer to 40- and I had a diet of meals that rivaled a Cathy Cartoon.

For breakfast I had Captain Crunch, with a sprinkling of crunch berries.

For a mid morning snack DOTS and red licorice strings.

For lunch I ordered up a delicious chocolate chip cookie ice cream sandwich and a diet coke.

For an afternoon snack I polished off the box of DOTS.

For dinner I had chicken egg fo young and an egg roll. I went with a bottle of water to help flush my system, ha-ha.

For a late night snack I had an orange flavored Rolaid.

This morning I weighed myself. OUCH! All the hard work I did (till this past February) with watching what I ate, making healthy choices and exercising daily has all gone down the tubes. I have gained it almost all back.

So while I sit here munching on yet another strand of red licorice I am contemplating when I should get back on the wagon and embrace that life style change that made me feel so good about myself.

But for right now I'll just have another strand of red licorice.