Little Gems

This past weekend, I was cleaning my nine year old daughter's room and came across this wee nugget on her desk.


I found it hilarious.

I'm not sure if it is because she is already making notes to self or because of the inclusion of the notation, spelled correctly, to "SUCCEED".

Regardless, one thing is for damn sure. I've done my job as a parent. My children will most definitely require therapy as adults.

Thoughts for a Friday

1. John Edwards redefines "smarmy". He's been indicted. How nice for his family. He can just queue up behind other cheater men in politics like Bill, Newt, Mark, Eliot, Arnold, Rudy and Jim, to name only a very few. Great legacy, fellas.

2. I read today that Dr. Michael Kamrava, the one who was responsible for implanting twelve embryos (eight of which survived) into Nadya Suleman of "Octomom" fame, will be stripped of his California medical license as of July 1. My only comment...why the hell are they waiting until July 1?

3. I am so grateful for my husband. He's the best thing that has ever happened to my children and me.

4. How about those Vancouver Canucks, eh? Wednesday night, in Tulsa, Oklahoma, I had the Stanley Cup finals on my TV, during PRIME TIME! It made me unreasonably happy. I sang, "O Canada" at the start of the game along with the 20,000 fans in Rogers Arena. My children were fascinated . I was homesick.

5. New Zealand calls to my soul every, single, day. I can picture my children there. I can see my brother and sister-in-law tipping back a glass of Kiwi wine and enjoying the view from a Cromwell vineyard. I look forward to the day when I hang my freshly washed clothes out on the line for the first time. I know that sounds weird but there is something enormously satisfying about it that I can't explain.

6. It blows my ever loving mind that the press is following Sarah Palin around the country on her Mama Grizzly Family Vacation. I keep waiting for Alan Funt to jump out and tell the nation that we're all on Candid Camera because Palin's potential candidacy can't be anything else but a bad joke.

7. The truth is far more easily recalled than a lie.

8. I had the privilege of being the commencement speaker a few weeks back for a high school graduation. While terrifying, the occasion served to remind me how fleeting youth is and how important it is, as a homeschool parent, to nuture the sense of curiosity that my children still have about the world around them.

9. I can live without bread, pasta, corn products, flour, processed food and sugar but holy cow, do I ever miss beer. I have yet to sample a gluten-free beer that tastes as good as the worst ale (Molson Golden when it was still an ale) or lager (Red Stripe) on the market. So sad.

10. The definition of stupidity is purchasing one's adolescent son an amp for his electic guitar. Period.

Happy Friday, kids.

Not Hanging Loose. Yet.

Have you ever experienced one of those times in your life when things are so busy and so complicated that you feel like each day is whooshing by without leaving a lasting impression?

This is my life right now. Between making the arrangements to move to another country, I'm trying to manage a busy company, homeschool my kids and run a household.

Things are falling through the cracks.

For instance, we've missed two of my son's guitar lessons since we switched days. Guitar is Dylan's passion. He plays constantly. He lives for that weekly lesson and I've porked it two weeks in a row. My recent lack of home organization is incredibly disturbing. More often than not, the kids and I are flying out of the house, shoes in hand with mere minutes before we are supposed to be someplace. I've become a desperate housewife. My calendar is jammed and the whole system I used to employ in the years when I had a 9-5 existence is nowhere to be found. I think I'm going to have to bring out the big guns again.

I'm going to have to resurrect THE PLANNER.

I am keenly aware that before leaving for New Zealand, the entire family needs everything like prescriptions, eye appointments and dentist visits sorted. My husband and I have to time things correctly so that we sell our vehicle and anything that you plug in before we leave but not so early that we are inconvenienced. We've got to secure affordable temporary housing and a property management company for our two houses which continue to be albatrosses around our necks.

My business partner and I have taken on three new projects, all of which are mammoth in their workload. It's all good, though. I am so, so grateful. I just wish that my personal life was less stressful. Throw in a couple of serious tornado events and you'll understand why my anxiety levels have reached new heights.

In October, after visiting my family in Canada for a week, we will be flying to Hawaii for ten days before making our way to New Zealand. Lately, I taken to daydreaming about myself on that beach, cocktail in hand, sand between my toes and the sound of the surf roaring in my ears.

It has become my happy place.

I go there. A lot.

On a Train

On a train from Hong Kong to China. I've clearly crossed the border as I no longer have access to Facebook or Twitter. I may shrivel up and die. On a bright note, it seems the blogs are accessible.
WiFi is available too. And cheap.
Small mercies.

Gluten is the Enemy

My blood tests came back indicating a gluten sensitivity, however, a biopsy is needed to confirm a diagnosis of Celiac's disease.

I don't need no stinkin' biopsy.

THAT was supposed to be done during the colonoscopy but the blood test hadn't returned in time so the doc didn't do it. There is no way that I'm going to Osmoprep hell again anytime soon. It doesn't really matter, anyway. The result is the same: NO GLUTEN.

It's a bit like menopause, I imagine. You wish like hell that the menstrual fairy would wave her magic wand over your uterus and make it stop because you've had your babies and you're a certifiable nutbar one week of every month. Relief would be so, so welcome. Then Auntie Flo finally leaves one day and the realization hits that even though you don't want to bear any more children, you hate the thought of being robbed of the ability to do so. I think Celiac's is like that.

I won't necessarily miss bread or pasta or any of the other things we make with wheat, barley, rye, kamut and spelt. They are just a freaking carb nightmare and to go Paleo, I'd given most of them up anyway. It's just the choice factor. Now, it seems that I don't have one unless I want to be chronically fatigued, with a malfunctioning thyroid, joint pain and all kinds of messy, noisy, bloated and uncomfortable gastric distress.

I will miss beer, however. Wheaty, crisp, cold, delicious, lip-smacking beer.

I feel like I need a mourning period for beer.

On a positive note, at least I have the knowledge now. I can march forth all Mrs. Gluten Free and eventually, I should be able to thumb my nose at the bathroom scale.

And that almost makes the absence of real beer worth it.