Getting All Gussied Up and Sticking Out Like Sore Thumbs...

Last Friday night He-Man took me out for a much needed night on the town.  We hadn't been out on a real date since before RP was born; and let's face it, by that late in pregnancy I wasn't willing to paint the town any color unless I was in my pajamas with no waistband....and probably no makeup.  Earlier, he'd sent me an email describing his work Christmas party being held at a local hotel.  Appealing points were: in-house babysitting ($10 a kid!), a spread of French and foreign cheeses, a raffle, French cheese, a gourmet dinner and, did I mention FRENCH CHEESE?!

I didn't realize how badly I needed a night out until, upon looking at myself all dressed up, in my favorite dress (which I normally feel my very best in), I felt oddly over dressed.  I hadn't worn heels or gotten this gussied up in forever!  So, I embraced the sense of being over-the-top and stepped it up a notch by adding a sparkly studded clutch and scarf.  Hey, if I'm going to be over dressed, I might as well be obscenely peacockish.

By the time we entered the dining hall, I actually felt under-dressed; I'd say practically naked compared to others, but then how would I describe the party goers that were practically naked?   

The party had me wondering how people keep strategically placed clothing strategically placed whilest avoiding major wardrobe malfunction, like someone losing an eye or something.  I'd like to, as they say, 'when in Rome, do as the Romans do', and blend in with the other Floridians but I am, in deed, a victim of the earth's gravitational pull and therefore unable to pull off such styles without causing embarrassment to humanity as a whole.  (I think it has a lot to do with being over 30)

We arrived to the hotel just as He-Man realized he left the tickets at home.  So we dropped the kids off and he left me at the hors d'oeuvres table by myself....after pretty much spending a month and a half in social isolation...with French cheese.  I found myself contemplating how much cheese was appropriate for the plate and why on earth my clutch wasn't bigger and lined with dishwasher safe plastic.  After introducing myself and exchanging pleasantries with the Brie, I allowed dignity and decorum  to override my desire to stuff my pockets and found a seat with my package of wheat-free rice crackers.

I sat next to a brilliant Naval chemist who was much better conversationalist than the Roquefort and whose daughter happened to be babysitting our girls and the other children  upstairs...and making a killing that evening.  After about 5 minutes of talking with no pause, I realized I ought to breathe and explained I hadn't been out much lately.  I ended up making a friend that evening as she joined us at our dining table and talked with He-Man and I all evening.    

Once dinner started, so did the music.  With the exception of some of Stevie Wonder's best holiday music, I didn't recognize anything.  In fact, I couldn't even understand most of what they were saying and wondering about the rapper/singer, 'You wanna put what? Where?'

He-Man requested some swing dance music and while the DJ looked a little confused, found some in his library.  He played it and we decided we'd dazzle the others with some high flying moves.  It felt fantastic to dance again.  I didn't even mind the blank stares that met us at the end of the song; you know the kind that are usually accompanied by the sound of crickets chirping?

By the end of the night I felt pretty certain that we were fish out of water but grateful that variety is the spice of life.  We also went home with a Nintendo DS Lite, having absolutely no clue what that actually is but all the same thrilled that He-Man won a raffle prize.

We picked up the girls from a party of their own which included cupcakes with lots of frosting, gallons of Hawaiian Tropic Fruit Punch and bags of chocolates.  It's no wonder there were kids hanging from the rafters and scaling the curtains!

Lulu was convinced she'd rather stay there, subsisting on sugar until she was forced to brush her teeth and go to sleep.  Bunny was passed out with smears of chocolate staining her face and Sunshine was sitting inches away from a television watching 'Hannah Montana'.  RP missed being fed a cupcake with a red punch chaser by sleeping soundly through the entire evening.  Needless to say, they had a blast and slept in the next morning.

That night, with my French cheese fix and a moment to wear lipstick, high heels and sassy stockings, I started to feel like I was getting my pre-baby, pre-relocation groove back.  We should go out again.  Next time though, I'm making He-Man blend in.  Do you think I could convince him to get all pimped out in a white zoot suit, walking cane, gold necklace with a $ on it and a matching fadora?

An Emotional Week: Searching for Answers

As many of you are aware, when we lived in Oregon, over the course of a few months, I developed a severe allergic reaction to gluten.  It became serious enough that my doctor referred me to an allergist who preformed a skin-prick test.  My results were minimal and we continued on with life being cautious of the amount of wheat gluten I came in contact with.  When I had none, I didn't react.  When I did, the reaction grew in severity with each exposure.  Finally, after an ER visit to pump me full of epinephrine, I was prescribed an Epi-pen and sent on my merry way.

That was 7 years ago.  I miss bread (especially killer submarines masterfully created by He-Man).  I miss donuts.  I miss my cinnamon rolls.  I miss cereal and oatmeal.

In the beginning, I would only react after consuming gluten then accelerating my heart rate with running or other aerobic activity.  Now, if I consume it, within a half an hour, my hands and feet start to itch and burn, my skin crawls, my eyes and lips swell to the point of looking like Quasimoto.  I scare small children and make dogs and cats leave their homes.  I can't even touch it.  When I make playdough, my hands break out into hives.  UG!

The days following, my body essentially mimics the joint pain of rheumatoid arthritis and it takes nearly a week for the swelling in my face to clear.

My last reaction occurred a year and a half ago.  I attended a work party and ate a hamburger that I took off the bun and cut it up like steak.  That night, I went running and after a mile, I felt the symptoms beginning.  By the time I got home, my body was going into shock.  He-Man is medically trained and is also familiar with this drill so he knew what to do.  The scary thing was that it was more intense than I had ever experienced.

So here's the clincher...

When we were traveling through Texas, some friends of ours made the most AMAZING gazpacho.  I had two gloroious, tomatoey bowls.  The next day, I found out that our hostess, unaware of my allergy, made the soup with the fluffy innards of 2 loaves of French bread!  Amazingly, I had absolutely no reaction.  My eyes didn't even twitch once!

I noted this and even hoped that perhaps with my pregnancy and subequent birth of our darling, tooty little RP, my body's chemistry had changed and I could tolerate wheat gluten.  It was suggested that I test the idea.  I sat on it for a couple of months, too afraid to try anything.

The, Sunday came and I made Cinnamon Rolls for my family.  I decided to make like a test tube and conduct the experiment...

I bit into the fluffy, soft treat and instantly remembered why I love Cinnamon rolls so much.  I tried to savor every bite and licked every bit of frosting off my fingers.  It was divine.

Unfortunately, my body disagreed.  Within a half an hour, my hands and feet started to itch, then my legs and arms, my torso and neck came next.  My body became covered in welt-like hives that burned and itched.  My lungs began to fill up with fluid and it felt like someone was standing on my chest.  My mouth and eyes began to swell and my body went into shock.  Well, I guess that answers the question. 

It was more terrifying than before and I ended the evening feeling like a complete idiot.  All of this for a stupid Cinnamon roll.  And no, it wasn't worth it. 

The next day, I could hardly move.  My body ached and my bones hurt like they were broken.  Yesterday, I felt well enough to run again.  Four days after eating something I probably shouldn't have.

So, I'm  back to Square One, wondering what is going on.  Why was I able to eat the gazpacho in Texas but not a Cinnamon roll in Florida?  UG!  Atleast I'm certain of one thing:  I'm not going to make myself a science experiment again anytime soon!

Mrs. Incredible Does It Again!!

Our fan-tab-ulous aunt did it again!  She brightened my day with her amazing talents!  She touched up our family photo.  I didn't think I could love it any more than I already did, but I do!

Dumb Dog! Why are you following me?!

This week, I was served a reminder of why we are, at the moment, not pet owners. Don't get me wrong. We love animals. One of Lulu's and my favorite past times while walking is watching the gravity-defying Floridian squirrels scale trees and jump fly from tree to tree. We've even become accustomed to dodging squirrel poop just as we would do with seagulls and other birds of flight. (Seriously, we missed one by inches the other day)

 Tuesday, as I was pushing Lulu in a stroller and I had Reese's Pieces in my Baby Bjorn, I spotted an obnoxious and slobbery adorable Boxer puppy.  Lulu saw her at about the same time and we both began cooing and talking at it.  Which was all the permission the dog needed.  She came barreling towards us and accosted Lulu affection.  She appreciated this attention for about a minute and then demanded, "Go Away, Roofy!"  To which the dog took as permission to soak her with slobber. 

While trying to deflect RP from dog spit and full body hugs, I attempted to get her off of a very put-out Lulu.  By then, she was loved up more than she felt was necessary and started to tell the dog just what she though.

About that time, a car approach which prompted her to run head on towards it.  The car screeched to a halt and the driver gave me a dirty look.  Which provided proof that the animal was as dumb as a stump.

As we continued to walk towards the bus stop to pick up the girls, the dog weaved on and off the sidewalk/road.  As cars would approach, I tried to get her back on the sidewalk while shooing her home.  We were getting closer and closer to a very busy road...

By the time I picked up the girls, the dog stopped traffic, nearly got hit by 3 cars, ran into a neighbors home, hopped into one car and out of another (a man stopped to help me get her away from the road and had put her in his truck) and ticked off several of our new neighbors. 

The hope was that we'd find the owners by the time we got home.  No such luck.  We spent the next two days talking to neighbors and waiting for Animal Control to come by (apparently, as long as the dog is friendly, it isn't considered an urgent pick-up...never mind that the dog is hungry and stinking up my garage!)  With her penchant for charging on-coming traffic and the tornado 'extreme weather' warning, we couldn't let her go.  I gave it fresh water and as much peanut butter as I could, and even cooked it some ground turkey but the little puppy was ravenously hungry!

On the second morning, when I went into the garage to grab our stoller, this is what greeted me...

My heart melted a little bit.  But not enough for me to run out for a dog house, food and tags.  I was still ticked about the wet-dog funk that permeated our garage. 

Then swooping in and saving the day, my new neighbor showed up at my doorstep with a sign, that was asking for help in finding a lost Boxer puppy...and the people (in other words, disgruntled mom and dad) rejoiced!  

By lunch time, she was gone; returning to her very happy owner whose kids were about to appreciate their day a whole lot more.  I was relieved knowing she'd be going to her warm, safe home.  The girls were relieved that mom didn't drop-kick the dog after it destroyed all organization in the garage.

Our petless life returned to normal.

This experience, did however, cause me to reflect on the best dog there ever was...

 

Sigh.

I guess not all dogs can be as smart and wonderful as Beethoven.  He was better than Lassie, UnderDog and Wishbone put together.

At least I didn't have to pick up any dog poop.

Button Nosed Lulu...

My friends, for 2 and a half years we've referred to our brilliant and saucy 3rd addition as 'Button Nose'. As time and personality has progressed, I've realized that name doesn't fit her anymore...she's totally grown out of it. She's more sassy and spunky. I've found myself calling her Lulu lately. I think it fits her just right. So, on my blog our Button Nosed little one, whose no longer a baby, will ever be known as Lulu...to properly articulate her personality of course. (Plus Lulu is shorter and easier to type. :)

Thanksgiving in Atlanta

With the recent change in scenery, our Thanksgiving was bound to change too. As November progressed, we naturally prepared for colder weather but it never came. I’ve even found myself bundling up to walk the girls to the bus stop only to be peeling off the sweaty layers 200 feet from our home. I’m really surprised by how much I missed autumn, the progressively colder weather, the snowy mountains and the wet boots with snow matted furry parts. I purchased hot cocoa and apple cider for those cold wintery nights but we’re needing to drink them iced instead…weird!

Luckily, we got a taste of the autumn we miss so much when our sweet Uncle and Aunt, Mr. and Mrs. Incredible invited us to Atlanta for Thanksgiving. I’ve always wanted to go to Atlanta since watching “Gone With the Wind” as a child. There’s something so endearing about that good ol’ Southern Hospitality, the big poofy dresses made from curtains and the handsomely polished men who wear pocket watches and look like Clark Gable. I wanted to pack my pink satin prom dress with the puffy sleeves, but He-Man passionately vetoed it as inappropriate dinner attire. Apparently, he’s never been to a party at Tara.













Alas, how surprised was I when upon arrival we found no “Enterprise Horse Carriage Rentals”….although we did get to ride a horse carriage drawn by the James brothers. And to add to the authenticity of the experience we got to ride during the latter end of Jesse’s post-lunch digestive process. Horses really don’t possess any sense of propriety.


The Incredibles provided a delicious dinner and even prepared gluten-free desserts since several of us can’t eat gluten. The food was good, the conversation lively and the company absolutely delightful…even without china or a plantation backdrop.

To burn off the meal we organized a good old fashioned snowball fight. The challenge was finding the snowballs in 60+ degree weather. Lucky for us, I found GINORMOUS marshmallows on our cross country trip that substituted nicely….

Mrs. Incredible was the first casualty when the first ‘snow’ball thrown landed squarely on
her eyeball. You’d think getting hit by a marshmallow wouldn’t be so bad, but when they’re that big, the fluffy mass actually leaves a powder mark AND kind of hurts…which several people were quickly able to attest to. New rule, unless of course you want to get pummeled, avoid the face.

Mrs. Incredible possesses the super power of taking amazing photography. She generously treated our family to a photo shoot. Here's some of our faves!

To add to the awesomeness of our holiday weekend, we watched "The Unsinkable Molly Brown" with Debbie Reynolds while we did "Sparkle Toes" which Violet decreed that they shall be known as "Twinkle Toes" ever more.

Further celebrating the girlieness in 80% (a little less if Ferrari, the cat, is a boy) of the people who attended Thanksgiving dinner, we shopped at my new favorite splurge store, "Charming Charlie", which is stocked to the top with all things feminine. And it's all color coded. Need I say more?

I think not. Mr. and Mrs. Incredible, Elasti-Girl and Violet, thank you for the fabulous weekend! We can hardly wait to do it again!

To add to the awesomeness of our holiday weekend, we watched "The Unsinkable Molly Brown" with Debbie Reynolds while we did "Sparkle Toes" which Violet decreed that they shall be known as "Twinkle Toes" ever more.

Then to celebrate the girlieness in 80% (a little less if Ferrari, the cat, is a boy) of the people who attended Thanksgiving dinner, we shopped at my new favorite splurge store, "Charming Charlie", which is stocked to the top with all things feminine. And it's all color coded. Need I say more?

I think not. Mr. and Mrs. Incredible, Elasti-Girl and Violet, thank you for the fabulous weekend! We can hardly wait to do it again!