SIMPLY SARA

LOVE

2012-02-13T10:28:00.000-08:00

On the Eve of all that is Valentine's, I have this to say...

Before Trevor, I had been in love two times.

One of those times was young and innocent and new and safe. And oh, I loved him. "Thought I would marry him" kind of love. But like I said before, we were young and innocent and new at this whole love thing, and when push came to shove, we were too young to make any of those decisions involving marriage and forever and so we moved on. We keep in touch occasionally and it makes me so happy to see him with a beautiful wife who happens to be an English teacher, just like me.

The other of those times was much, much different. What I thought was love was obsession. What I thought was a partnership was dependency. It was dangerous, this love, and yet I kept going back for more. I have heard before that we try to heal our childhood through our relationships. I am pretty sure that is what I was doing here and what a scary ride it was. We no longer keep in touch, and that also makes me very, very happy.

And then came my Trevor. He came right when I was least expecting it and when I had stopped trying so hard to just be loved by someone. They say that happens. This love taught me how true love - REAL love - is unassuming and humble and graceful and grateful. Trevor taught me that I was more than enough "as is," and that no matter what form of crazy I took on any given day, he would love me anyway. Like really, really love me and never, ever leave me. So I married him, which is what you should do when you find that kind of love.

So we tried making babies. That failed. Twice in two years. And my heart broke into a million little pieces because I was pretty sure this was all a result of the karma I deserved. I refused to ask God for a baby. Refused. I didn't think I had the right. And then after having watched the first set of foster kids walk out our front door, I finally said a little prayer. It went something like this: "Okay God, I said I wouldn't ask, but I lied. I am going to ask you one time. Just one time. Please God, send me a baby. A baby I don't have to watch walk out my front door. Please." Two weeks later, Nico was in my arms.

True story, people. True story.

And THAT love - how to describe THAT love. It is earth-shattering, man, completely and utterly life-altering. It's the kind of love that has you saying prayers that sound something like this: "Please God, whatever you do, watch over this one every second of every day. Don't ever take your eyes off of him, God. Ever." It's a love that through the exhaustion, self-doubt, fear and isolation, is all-consuming. I am pretty sure it's supposed to be because how could you survive that first year otherwise? And so when my little man was placed in my arms I said to God: "Thank you, God, thank you. I am so happy and so complete and so full because You made me a mom so if this never happens again, that is just fine with me. You answered my prayer and I am full. Completely full."

Then we all know what happens, right? What happens is that four months later, after suffering from car sickness I don't normally have, and after checking the calendar and counting back the days - which I had to do like 10 times just to be sure - you realize that apparently you're not full. Nope, you're not full at all, because another one is coming, ready or not. So, you worry and worry and worry that maybe you won't feel the same way the second time around, or maybe the first one will hate the second one because after all, he is still just a baby and he deserves more time...

Then the second one comes and while you still worry and worry and worry that either of them will fully understand how much and how deep that LOVE you feel for them is, you LOVE him immediately and wholly and addictively, just like the first. And you say that same little prayer to God again, every single day of your life: "Watch over this one, too, God, every second of every day. Keep your eyes on both of them, God. Always. Please."

And just when you think there is no possible way to love either of them any more than you already do, you look down at your double-stroller while walking through the mall and you see this:

No one ever tells you that when your children LOVE each other, your own LOVE for them multiplies and multiplies and multiplies. This hand-holding wasn't an accident, it wasn't just for a second. This hand-holding was for real - so real that I had time to stop the stroller, dig through the diaper bag for my camera, and then snap this picture. This picture of connection, of protection, of LOVE.

Happy Valentine's Day, my loves. Happy Valentine's Day.

Your Birthday Card

2012-01-22T19:57:00.001-08:00

Dear Melanikis,

This is what your birthday card - the one I told you I had grandiose plans of writing - would have said:

Happy Birthday, my friend.

You are the peas to my carrots, the cheese to my mustard (your mom's kind).

You are the calm to my storm. Seriously. Like no joke. Seriously.

You are the Oprah to my Gayle, 'cause let's be honest - as much as I wish was Oprah, you are soooo her and I am soooo not.

You have taught me that soul mates don't just exist in romance, 'cause you and me = no romance - we don't even hug - but you're my soul mate. My girl one.

We met 15 years ago now and I often have to remind myself that you haven't been around for like my whole life, 'cause it feels like you have. You are my friend, my confidante, my sister from another tit-ster (I just made that up), and I love you.

Happy Birthday, my friend. Happy, happy birthday.

Love,

Me

Maybe a New Me

2012-01-09T11:10:00.000-08:00

Here I am. I am alive and well and still kicking and screaming and rejoicing and crying - sometimes all in the same day.

I have had fabulous plans of blogging all about our holiday adventures - our first holiday as a family of four - and that has been just a big fat fail.

I wanted to write all about our fabulous plan to take both babies up into the Blue Mountains to cut down our Christmas tree, all in the name of family tradition, and about how Noah layed flat on his back on the sled like the jolly, old man that he is, and about how Nico wailed at the top of his lungs when his papa disappeared into the forest for at least half an hour while I just stood there, staring at my friend Alissa, who kept telling me everything was going to be okay. AWESOME.

I wanted to write about how good it felt to stay home this year, to host a Christmas Eve dinner for family and besties, to wake up on Christmas morning in our own bed, to carry our babies down our own stairs, and to eat cinnamon rolls made in our own oven while opening Christmas presents under our own tree. Nico and Noah loved the wrapping paper more than life itself, Trevor has yet to put down his Nook Color, and I was shocked my husband had somehow remembered that I said I wanted a pair of Toms. But while those things were nice and lovely and oh so fun, nothing compares to crashing on your own sofa in front of your new fireplace while your beautiful babies sleep upstairs and your beautiful husband lets you do just that. HEAVEN.

I wanted to write about time with family in Seattle over the New Year and about how every time I leave my brother and sister and their families, I miss them terribly. We gorged on an incredible Cuban feast made by my sister and played a few games on my niece's new Wii...I might have even accidentally smashed her head with the controller while playing a rousing game of tennis, but hey, no blood, no foul. We walked the zoo with family and dear friends, which with an 18-month-old is soooooo much fun! He ooohed and aaaahed at every living being while his brother slept peacefully in the stroller. Perhaps the highlight of the visit was my dear friend's
5-year-old son profound discovery (said while sitting on a sculpture of a nest of eggs):"Hatching an egg really hurts my privates!" AMEN.

So now it is 2012 and I find myself ready for a new me. In a measly 18 1/2 months, I have been blessed with two baby boys - boys I dreamed of and prayed for and, let's be honest, begged the heavens for. In the end, I find myself at times feeling blissfully happy, yet excruciatingly exausted; completely redefined, yet a little bit lost. And after fertility drugs, miscarriages, adoption, and then pregnancy, I also find myself packing around 30 pounds that at one time, weren't there. It happened slowly but surely and I hate it. LOATHE it.

I used to look like this (the third one from the left)...

The funny thing is, this picture was taken at hands-down the worst time of my life. WORST. I was barely hanging on and it was time to celebrate the marriage of my baby brother to my beloved sister-in-law Dianna. So I stuffed myself into the bridesmaid dress and referred to myself as "The Walking Sausage," when clearly I was not.

I was cute and 30 pounds lighter. And I was miserable. Absolutely miserable.

For once and all I want my outside to match my inside. And the thing is, despite the exhaustion and confusion and self-doubt, I really am so, so, so happy. This is the life I always dreamed of. This is the husband I pictured in my head and these are the children who are even better than my dreams. I have a cheering section that any professional sports team would die for. It is time to do something about this outside, for what it is worth, and so the journey of eating better and moving more begins. NOW.

Maybe, just maybe, a new me is just around the bend.

Belated Thanks

2011-11-30T09:30:00.000-08:00

Admist the chaos of hosting Thanksgiving, of sick babies and a home that weathered the storm of many house guests and an enormous feast, there has seemingly been little time to really reflect - like really, really reflect - on all that I am thankful for. My life is so unbelievably blessed, it is so much better than I ever pictured, and there is much, much to be thankful for.

For beautiful baby boys whose eyes and smiles and babbles I am wholly addicted to. Like seriously addicted to.

For a husband whose patience never runs dry and who at the drop of a hat will run out and buy me a Blizzard just because he loves me.

For a sister and a brother who hold all my stories - the good, the bad, and the ugly - and who despite the stories, or maybe because of them, still love me and support me fiercely.

For my nearest and dearest friends who do things like talk me gently through labor, bring me Chai at work, spend Fridays off with me and my babies, bring me and my family dinner (especially plates of sinful brownies), and remind me everyday that "this too shall pass."

And perhaps most poignantly of all, for my mother, who exactly 50 years ago today boarded a plane at the age of 15, leaving behind her parents, her home, her school and friends, her language, her food, her pet bunny, and her childhood beaches, all for a chance at education and free thought; who never looked back at what could have been and instead always looked forward at what could be; who despite loss that would paralyze most of us, forged ahead and modeled resliency, optimism and passion; whose love of teaching lives on in her daughters, and whose love for her children and grandchildren knows no bounds...I am so, so thankful.

This is for you, mom, to remind you of what you started exactly 50 years ago today by stepping on that plane, by taking a chance, and by believing in the GOOD in EVERYONE. Your GOOD lives on in your babies and your grandbabies. Don't ever forget it.

Poetry

2011-11-22T10:01:00.000-08:00

Yesterday afternoon I realized I was stuck - stuck in between units at school and no idea what to do with a day and half of time before sending my students out the door for Thanksgiving Break.

Instead of jumping head first into teaching the ins and outs of satire, which happens to be right up my ally, I decided to create an activity based on those word magnets people often keep on their fridges. You know, the ones you can move around to say stuff like "She likes it in her ear" or "Big daddy loves fish" or "Want to jump me?"

So I sat down at my computer and came up with a list of words (all appropriate, although I was tempted by the dark side) for students to cut out and then arrange into a poem - a Thanksgiving poem. I was so excited because I just knew my students were going to LOVE it. They were going to be enthralled from the beginning of class to the end. They were going to ask to do it again and again and again...

...and then I hand out the assignment and the snarky girl in the back (who is the perfect example of why I am paid lots and lots of money) says, "Is this supposed to be fun?"

"No, butthole," I say (inside, of course). "It isn't."

"Yes," I say, for reals. "It is supposed to rock your world."

After all, it rocked mine. See...

And as I looked across the room at my other students, it appeared to rock theirs.

So kiss it, snarky girl. Kiss it. Mrs. Smith is a genius.

Where's my award?

Inspired

2011-11-10T08:55:00.000-08:00

I am feeling sentimental. And tired and overwhelmed and a little bit nostalgic. And in the midst of all that, I am also feeling a bit inspired. Admist this exhaustion that comes from a baby who will not sleep for longer than two hours at a time, I am feeling a sense of appreciation for all those who have done this before me and I have been inspired to just say this...

There lies deep within every woman the instinct to nurture, to raise, and to protect.

I am inspired by MOTHERHOOD, literally and figuratively.

…by my grandmother, who placed her children on a plane to escape the terrors of communism on her little Caribbean Island, not knowing if she would ever see them again, but knowing their freedom was worth dying for.

…by my mother, who was my father as well, who raised her three children with the core belief that wealth exists in experiences not materials, whose love continues to guide, carry, and inspire me today.

…by my sister, nine years my elder, who was always more than she ever had to be, and whose unwavering love, commitment and resilience now shines in the blue eyes and golden hair of her daughter.

…by my best friend, who shared her babies with me when I was so desperate to have my own, who models selflessness and patience and has proven family has never been about DNA.

…by my students, who made me a mother before my sons were born, who taught me the power of innocence, curiosity, and laughter.

…and most importantly, by my boys - one who I carried in my heart, the other who I carried in my belly - who despite the different paths were always meant to be mine, and who remind me to be better, to do more, and to live with purpose because everybody is somebody’s baby.

I am inspired by MOTHERHOOD in every sense of the word. For the mother that lies within us all, and for the children who so desperately need our care and praise, I am INSPIRED.

Nico's new favorite word...

2011-10-13T09:45:00.000-07:00

...and how he really feels about his mama.

I'm "Falling"...

2011-10-07T10:31:00.000-07:00

...and I can't get back up.

Fall is indeed here.

The leaves are changing.

I am back to working.

My babies are growing, growing, growing.

I am still not sleeping.

And most days I find myself crying.

What is a woman to do???

Fall is a perfect reminder that everything does change. My three and a half months at home with the boys is done and I am not quite sure what to do with myself. Nico is a little boy full of opinions that are usually expressed by pointing and screaming. He takes after me. He is obsessed with birds, planes, choo-choos, dancing, reading books, and being outside. His vocabulary grows everyday and it melts my heart into tiny, tiny pieces when he walks around saying "Noah, Noah." I should probably not mention that slapping Noah on the head tends to be one of his favorite pasttimes, but we are working on acquiring the meaning of "gentle."

Noah is our rolly, polly ball of fuss. Again, he takes after me. The boy has our number and screams,well, most of the day...and night. And yet the moments when he is kicking those legs and flapping those arms and flashing that smile make the sleeplessness seem trivial. Despite the occasional pinch and bite from his older brother, he is mesmerized by him and watches and watches and watches everything he does. He is our Lunch Box, our Cheeks, our sweet baby boy.

Fall is here. The leaves are changing. My babies are growing.

Could it all just slow down a little, little bit?

Week in Review

2011-07-17T20:59:00.000-07:00

My sister left today and I can't stop crying.

I am completely cracked out on pregnancy hormones and I seriously can't stop crying. I had my sister and my niece here for a whole week, and while they just live in Seattle, I cannot remember the last time we have had a whole week together.

It was HEAVEN. Complete and total heaven. And let me be clear - this week was not easy.

First there was the projectile vomiting brought especially to us by our two-week-old. It started last Monday and ended with a four-hour stint at the hospital that included a very nice but really stupid blood lady trying to take blood from my infant son's arm and an ultrasound of his belly that thank goodness confirmed everything is okay with Mr. Noah anatomy-wise. Apparently we have another case of acid reflux, and as I stated with Nico not so long ago, I HATE acid reflux. I loathe it. I want it to go far, far away from here. The good news is that with a little medicine and some smaller feedings closer together, Noah has not projectile vomited in almost 72 hours. He is thankful and every crevice of my body that has now been officially covered in vomit is also thankful.

But that's not all. There was also the 4 a.m. change of Noah's diaper in which I accidentally knocked off the plastic ring placed on his hoo-hoo after his circumcision. Can you say "Kill me now"? Apparently I have not caused any permanent damage and I am happy to report that his hoo-hoo is currently looking mighty fine, but at 4 in the morning, I was a wreck.

For the record, feeling like your son is starving and his manly parts may forever be damaged and it is clearly all your fault is not real fun. Nope, not fun at all.

And then the Mister (a.k.a. Nico) officially threw his first full-blown temper tantrum, and Trevor and I just sat there and stared at him and at each other because we had not idea what to do. We are pretty sure it was a fit meant to express his displeasure at yet again gaining a couple more teeth (I loathe teething almost as much as I loathe acid reflux) and also his displeasure at having to share the limelight with his baby brother.

Here is some math I actually understand:

Projectile Vomit + Possible Deformed Hoo Hoo + First Temper Tantrum = GUILT

Just so I don't leave anything out, some neighborhood teenagers with clearly too much time on their hands and no imagination exploded firecrackers on our front doorstep on Thursday night and then egged our house on Friday night. With sleeping babies, I wanted to KILL PEOPLE. No joke. KILL. PEOPLE. Do not mess with women who have recently given birth.

In short, the events of the week were a bit hellish but having my sister here to process with and laugh with was pure heaven. This week reminded me that if Nico and Noah find in each other what I have found in my brother and sister, then I will know I have done my job well.

To my Noah...

2011-07-08T20:28:00.000-07:00

Dear Noah,

It has taken me ten days to gather my thoughts about the day you entered the world and my heart doubled its size. Ten days ago, I held you in my arms for the very first time and I haven't wanted to put you down since. Just like your brother, you have me captivated. I am addicted already to you - to all of you.

You came into this world surrounded by immense love. Your papa was on one side, your aunt on the other, cheering both you and me on. Your grandma, in true fashion, held my head high, and your Melanie captured every single moment while yet again providing a calm that both you and I will forever fall back on. This is your starting line-up, my love, the ones who will always love you fiercely, completely, and unconditionally.

Your brother is in awe of you. At only 12 months old, he greets you every morning with an enormous smile and a "hi," and every time you cry (which is not very often)he looks for you and will not stop until he can see you are okay. He loves you so much he wants to eat you, which can be a bit of an issue. You made it very well known that you didn't appreciate him biting your foot. I cannot wait to see your relationship grow, and my hope is you always take care of each other and that you are more than just brothers - that you are each other's very best friends.

I also hope that your current peace and calm stay with you always, that you never doubt how deeply we love you, and that you never tire of me staring at you endlessly. You and your brother are our everything - you are our living and breathing dreams come true. I cannot wait to see all that you become.

I love you immensely...

Your mama

One

2011-06-15T20:53:00.000-07:00

To my baby boy...

Today you turned one. ONE. And as I watched you marching around the house, carrying your enormous mylar balloons and waving hi to everything in sight, I couldn't help but think to myself, "This year has gone by way too fast." Cliché, but true. You are such a little man now and the center of our world. The joy you have brought into my life and your papa’s is immeasurable. You are everything we dreamed of and more.

It is amazing how since day one, you have innately been YOU. Your curiosity about everything around you is incredible. You take everything and everyone in no matter where we go, which is a trait I hope you never lose. Your energy and intensity never cease to amaze me – you go, go, go, go, and that is not an exaggeration. Your love of music and kitties warms my heart and your hugs and kisses are the highlight of my day. I just have loved watching you be you, and hope you know that every minute of every day, all I ever want for you is to be exactly who you are.

The day you were placed in our arms was a day we have to admit that we had waited not so patiently for. All I have to do now is look into your enormous brown eyes and I know, with every fiber of my being, that life is exactly as it should be, and it is better than I could have ever imagined. You remind me every day that good things come to those who wait, that sometimes life is fair, and that throwing your arms up into the air with the high-pitched squeal of a pterodactyl is sometimes the only way to say how you really feel.

Happy 1st Birthday, Nico. I love you bigger than all the mountains and deeper than all the seas.

Mama

Reality Check

2011-06-08T12:00:00.000-07:00

Okay, so it's for real. I am really having a baby. Like, really, really having a baby.

I haven't been in denial or anything, and I certainly have understood that this ever growing bulge that rotates and jabs and rolls inside me is indeed a baby. But for some reason, it hasn't felt real until yesterday when I went in for my 36 week check, which I knew was going to be the first time they did any "real" sort of checking, if you know what I mean. And can I just say for the record that this checking freakin' hurts??? Holy Mary, women of America!!! I realize that what is about to come is going to be 1000 times worse but my lady parts are currently a bit tender and checking HURTS! Okay, I digress...

Here is what made this whole "I am having a baby" thing real:

Doctor (with hands placed firmly inside me): Oh! You are already 2 to 3 centimeters dialated and 80% effaced!

Me: I am????

Doctor (whose hands are now on the outside): Yes! Look, you're even spotting (showing me his rubber gloves)!

Me (thinking "Get that out of my face."): Oh.

Doctor: You need to go home and pack a bag - just to be safe.

So I know it could be two days or it could be two weeks or it could be never, but for some reason, hearing the words "dialated" and "effaced" have made this very, very real.

I am having a baby! I would prefer to have this baby after this weekend so I can celebrate my first's first and my second's impending arrival, but nonetheless, I am having a BABY!!!

Somebody pinch me now!

Flips and Philosophy

2011-05-19T19:58:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I am going to do it. I am going to take a picture of my belly and post it for the world to see.

Drum roll please...

This is what 33 weeks pregnant looks like - at least on me - and I am trying to embrace it.

I feel huge. Enormous. Kind of like a beluga whale. And as excited as I am about creating and carrying this life, pregnancy has been HARD. Really, really hard.

I have puked. I have experienced some pretty decent flowing bloody noses. Now I have mucus coming out of all sorts of body parts. I used to walk - like a human. Now I waddle - like a duck. I used to run up our stairs in 2 seconds flat. Now I heave myself up them by gripping our stair rail with all my might. My boobs ache. My back hurts. My hips throb. I have peed my pants - a lot. Glowing is the farthest thing from what I have done the last seven and a half months.

And so I haven't wanted pictures, for me, for you, or for anyone else to see.

Until today.

Because today I recieved the news that a dear friend passed away yesterday after a very long and unfair battle with cancer. I knew this day wasn't far off after visiting her in the hospital on Mother's Day, but I nonetheless am so, so sad that my friend is gone. This friend taught me that age is not a predictor of connection or friendship, and that joy can always be found in really good food, really good stories, and in the idiosyncracies of marriage. This friend always rejuvinated my teaching spirit and opened her home to all of us without expectations or conditions. I love her deeply and I will miss her dearly.

So today I celebrate life, particularly the one growing inside me. Because as hard as pregnancy has been and as huge as I feel, life is fleeting and fragile and often times unfair.

Today, my belly is a sign of all that is good in the world. As my little one flips and kicks and thrives within me, I celebrate LIFE and I am so, so thankful for that.

Mother's Day Surprises

2011-05-09T09:30:00.001-07:00

My husband made my heart sing yesterday, and in fact, I am pretty sure my heart is still rocking out today.

Here's the thing - when I met Trevor, I knew immediately I loved him and I knew immediately I would marry him. Leaving out the sordid details nobody wants to hear anyway, let's just say that on about day 11 of our dating relationship I told him I loved him (there may have been some innebriation involved), and instead of making him run far, far away from me, he reciprocated my sentiments shortly thereafter. I would like to tell you that it has all been a fairytale story from then on out, but the truth is, there have been moments where I am pretty sure that running far, far away from me has been on his mind. Perhaps I will delve into this topic later, but let's just say that infertility can take its toll on a marriage, and in the end, we both have often been left to feel unheard by the other.

But yesterday, my husband showed me that his love for me has never wavered. Yesterday, my husband showed me he has been listening the whole time.

I was told I needed to be out of our house for six hours. I was told I was going to a movie with my mother, and so I did. While I watched Robert Pattinson petting an elephant and making out with Reese Witherspoon, I ate a crap load of nachos smothered with a crap load of nacho cheese. It was HEAVEN.

The truth is, the movie would have been more than enough, but apparently not for Trevor.

By the time I got home many hours later, I arrived to a home with freshly cleaned carpets... including the stairs. The same stairs that I have complained about literally WEEKLY for the last 6 months. The same stairs that have become more and more covered with pet hair, reminding me every day that I simply cannot keep up with my home. In short, and perhaps most importantly, the same stairs that have represented my feelings of inadequacy as a mother and a wife.

And my husband cleaned them.

He cleaned the carpets and he cleaned the stairs and I wanted to cry because he HEARD ME. My husband heard me and responded in kind. But it didn't stop there.

On the kitchen counter was our laptop with this waiting for me:

Because you cannot see it, here is what he wrote:

"The last eleven months have been an amazing time. I can look back with wonder and joy not only at how we have gotten to watch little man grow but also how we have grown as parents. You are an amazing mother to Nicolas, the amount of love that you have for him is amazing and the joy and wonder that you show as his world expands is a lesson for us all. You really have made him the center of your world. Just as we are fortunate that Nicolas is in our life and that he will be joined by a baby brother in the near future, they are lucky that they have been delivered to you. I know that the future will be full of life, laughter, and love."

Let's ignore the fact that he forgot the "h" in our son's name, because as I stood there in my kitchen reading these words, I cried and cried and cried...in front of my in-laws and my mother and my baby and I didn't care because my husband HEARD me.

A movie, clean carpets, clean stairs, and words just for me.

God, I love that man.

He heard me and my heart is singing.

A Fresh Start...

2011-05-02T21:05:00.000-07:00

I am ready to give this a go again.

It has been more than six months since I have blogged about, well, anything. I have thought about coming back here often, but then sleeping sounded much, much better than blogging about, well, anything.

The thing is, there has just been too much.

Too much good, that is.

First there was this - a home purchased that needed much tender, loving care. A home I was ready to sand and paint alongside my husband. A home that literally tripled our living space and was placed perfectly next to a community pool and across the street from a playground and an elementary school. A home to raise our baby boy in, and I was pumped.

And then we found out about this - literally the day after we signed the papers on the above. This was not planned and this meant weeks of worry that perhaps we would have to relive the grief of two prior "this-es." But this time was different. Immediately. This time there was a dot at 5 weeks, a bean at 6 weeks, a very tiny human at 12 weeks, and a bouncing, baby boy at 17 weeks who was very pleased to show us his parts multiple times. This time I puked for 20 weeks straight and therefore I wasn't able to help with the sanding and the painting of the home bought for our baby boy - now our baby boys. And now at 31 weeks today, I look forward to seeing this little man face to face, to introduce him to his brother, and to have his father carry him for a little while. It is amazing how with a little bit of faith and a whole lot of surrendering, the family you always dreamed of can come to fruition before your very eyes.

Which brings me to him - the very BEST thing that has ever happened to his mama and papa. He has sprouted a couple teeth, a bit more hair, and a few more inches. He has taken his first couple of wobbly steps all on his own and he LOVES to get down to some good music. Best of all, he sleeps through the night with an occassional display of displeasure at not being able to find his binky in the dark. Our Nico continues to show his unbelievably strong will and has proven that you can communicate exactly what you want and need without uttering a single word. He waves goodbye in the morning now, meows back at the kitties, and gives the hugest most slobbery-est kisses ever known to humankind. In just a month and half our baby will be one and will shortly thereafter become a very little older brother...

... so here I am, friends, starting over with a new background, a new title, and a new appreciation for letting go and letting what will be, BE.

Here is to a fresh start...and a clean one at that.

Feet

2010-11-15T19:18:00.000-08:00

It began with just one...
...but quickly turned to two.

And then they went in the mouth, which is currently where he prefers them to be.

Does someone want to tell me why we even bother with rattles?

Firsts...

2010-11-01T18:35:00.001-07:00

October marked the first of many firsts...

There was the eating of cereal and peas. The peas won out by a land slide.

There was the sitting up in his little rubber seat (I forget what it's called), which made him look like a man. We are still waiting for the rolling over but the boy loves to stand and loves to sit in his seat.

And then there was the first Halloween. While he felt awful and struggled with a fever and the vomiting of phlegm, he and his cousin still made the best Thing 1 and Thing 2 I have ever seen.

And for the record, we are still patiently waiting for the first sleeping through the night.

4-months-old

2010-10-15T20:40:00.000-07:00

This is what 4-months-old looks like...

I really do wish I could take credit for his gorgeousness. I know every mom has spent hours and hours staring at their babies, yet there are moments I feel like there must be something wrong with me because I can't take my eyes off this boy. My sister forecasts many a phone call from teenage girls in the future. Let me make this clear...NO. Enough said.

At four months Mr. Nico continues to be fascinated with his hands and has finally figured out that instead of trying to shove his whole fist in his mouth, a couple of fingers will suffice. Plus, he loves to hold your hand, especially when eating and falling asleep. I want him to do that forever. He has also discovered his feet and grabs for them as much as possible. Rolling over is just around the corner and while he has been scarce with his laughter, when he lets it roll, it definitely rolls. Smiles and sounds, however, are never scarce, and he loves, loves, loves singing. He almost loves it as much as the moment his papa walks through the front door from work...that is the highlight of his day for sure. I need to get that stuff on video. The thing is, plain and simple, the boy is a complete and total joy. I wish I could take credit for that too, but I really believe it's just how he is wired. I find myself picturing him in the future and then I have to remind myself to enjoy the now because it has already gone so fast.

The sleep thing could be better, though. While in the last week he has made great strides and is only waking up once a night, I don't think I have ever felt this tired, well, ever. I have been told the sleeping-through-the-night thing will happen soon. I am just afraid that when it does, I won't actually be able to wake up. It is amazing, though, how functional you can still be when sleep deprived. Granted, every once in a while the sleep deprivation shines through...like when your husband puts the ice cream back in the fridge instead of the freezer, and when you catch at the very last minute a typo you were going to give to students that would have been very, very bad ("cummer" is NOT a good replacement for "summer"). And I must say that I hate acid reflux. I despise it. I loathe it. I want it to go far, far away from here, especially the gagging cough that sounds like he is about to give birth to his insides. Acid reflux can kiss my butt.

In short, our boy is growing like a weed and continues to make our world go round. May the teenage years stay very far away and may he want to hold my hand for a very long time.

8

2010-09-30T15:09:00.001-07:00

Today my Ana turns 8.

And this was our phone conversation this morning:

Me: Happy Birthday Ana! Can you believe you're 8?

Ana: No, I can't.

Me: I know, me neither.

Ana: Yeah, when I started 2nd grade I felt decrepit and today I feel even more decrepit.

Me: (Silence, thinking to myself, "Is this what the new 8 sounds like?")

So today Miss Smarty Pants turns another year older, another year smarter, and another year funnier. I love this kid with all that I am.

Happy Birthday, Ana Banana!

Firsts

2010-09-24T14:04:00.000-07:00

Apparently "The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round" is HYSTERICAL.

Just ask Nico.

While singing and shaking his little legs, he laughed for the first time today.

And it wasn't a pansy laugh either. It was a laugh straight from his belly and it MADE MY DAY.

Actually, it MADE MY WEEK.

The thing is, this week has been hard.

First, he bloodied his own head by going after his itchy cradle cap in the middle of the night. I must say that finding your baby with bloody scratches all over his scalp at 3 in the morning is not my idea of a good time. Thanks to a quick trip to the doctor and some steroid cream, his scalp is looking pretty darn good right now. It's hairless, but it's bloodless. I'll take than any day of the week.

Then, starting on Tuesday night, his acid reflux took a turn for the worst. The coughs and gags that came out of his 3-month-old body were deafening, and I'm not exaggerating. I wish I was. None of us got more than 20 minutes of sleep at a time for two nights in a row. NOT. GOOD. NEWS. Thankfully this time I just had to call the doctor and as of last night, our little one is on acid reflux medicine. While last night wasn't perfect, it was so much better!

So much better, in fact, that today he LAUGHED and my heart sang! This mom stuff rocks.

For the record...

2010-09-17T14:08:00.000-07:00

...this is what happens when a 34-year-old software developer and father of one goes up for a header during a recreation league soccer game:

After three hours in the emergency room, five stitches, and dry heaving (me, not him), this is the end result:

Awesome, baby. Freakin' awesome.

This is how rumors get started...

2010-09-14T20:34:00.000-07:00

It all begins with a "discovery." Leave it to my high school students to plot this out.

Today my yearbook students attended a yearbook workshop. While they hated every second of the presenter, they LOVED looking at yearbooks from other high schools all over the country. They looked and looked and looked, and here is what they found:

They are convinced this is my long, lost daughter. This is her senior picture. She attended some high school in Bothell and graduated last year. For the record, that means I would have been 14 when I had her. Those who knew me in high school would tell you this - NOT POSSIBLE.

But so convinced are my students that they have begun Facebook-stalking whoever this poor girl is. They are scaring me, and yet, I must admit, there is a bit of an uncanny resemblance.

You know how they say everyone has a twin in this world? Perhaps she is it. But daughter she is not, dear students. I don't even have one of those.

But I do have one of the other kind...

...isn't our resemblance uncanny too?

10 Weeks

2010-08-24T21:22:00.001-07:00

It has been two months since I have blogged. Blame it on him:

And now my darling boy is already 10 weeks old. 10 weeks means cooing and singing and smiling galore. It means the shaking and rattling of hands and feet, and the ever-so-close discovery of sucking a thumb. It means the following of voices and sounds and the throwing a bloody fit when having to sit all by himself in the back of the car. It means growing and growing and growing, so much so I wish it would just stop. It means the almost sleeping through the night and morning cuddles with mama in bed. God he smells good.

But perhaps most importantly it means complete and utter infatuation. I get absolutely nothing done during the day - which until he came I never understood - and I just stare and stare and kiss and kiss. He is the other love of my life and Trevor feels exactly the same way. This is love in its most purest of forms. I can honestly say that with him, I have never felt more unselfish in my whole life. That feels pretty damn good.

Tomorrow I go back to work, which means somebody else gets to do the staring and the kissing and the cuddling for a while, and I am not quite sure how I feel about that. I know I will be counting down the hours until I am with him again. I just hope he doesn't forget me. That freaks me out because, well, I am a freak of nature. He has brought that out in me.

I wish I could slow it all down and yet I cannot wait for all that is to come. To all those who told me it would come (especially YOU Melanikis), you were right. It was so worth the wait.

Cousins, Part II

2010-07-11T20:12:00.000-07:00

The whole familia rolled into town this weekend and for the first time, the three cousins were together. At only three weeks older, Alex clearly could eat Nico for lunch. Luckily, he restrained himself and baby Nico still lives. They shared floor time together and even held hands. My brother predicts these two may raise some hell in the future. I prefer to think they will be each other's numero uno amigo and keep each other out of trouble, but that job may be relegated to Ana. She has slid into the role of older cousin flawlessly and I have no doubt these two boys will want to follow in her ever footstep. And can I just say for the record that the Gonzalez's have yet to make an unatttractive baby? I know, I know, I can't take a lot of credit for mine but damn he is beautiful. Watch out world, here they come!

To my son...

2010-06-27T22:23:00.001-07:00

My dearest Nico...

Twelve days ago your papa and I recieved the phone call that forever altered our lives. It was a phone call we had expected to wait a year or two for and instead we waited only about two and a half weeks. That phone call let us know you were waiting for us and so we boarded a plane to Vegas to see for ourselves that indeed our dream had come true. There you were, snuggled in your birth mama's arms, waiting for your papa and mama to take you home. Since the moment you were placed in my arms, I have loved you fiercely. You are exactly what I have been waiting for and now this entire journey makes sense.

I want you to always know the unwavering love of your birth mama and I will forever be grateful for the time we were allowed to spend with her. You come from strength, commitment, passion, and love, and your papa and I will do all that we can to honor that everyday. You are the most amazing gift we have ever been given and so we will honor you everyday as well.

I hope we are always able to celebrate our similarities and remember that family has never been, nor ever will be, determined by color or blood, but rather by shared joys and an unwavering commitment to love each other every single day. I want the world for you - you should never be afraid to be exactly who you were meant to be. You are our dream come true, and even though you make funny faces when I kiss your cheeks and your lips repeatedley, I will do everything in my power to make all of your dreams come true.

Nicholas Brian Smith, I love you more than words can express. You have a circle of family and friends who have been waiting for you and who love you deeply and selflessly. I cannot wait to witness all that you become and I will always be your number one fan. You are our son through and through, and have been since before we even met you. We are so glad you are finally home.

Love,

Your Mama

Cousins

2010-06-04T10:08:00.000-07:00

This picture of my niece Ana with her cousin - and my nephew - Alex brings me an unexplainable amount of joy. I didn't grow up with cousins of any degree. I suppose this is what happens when you live in Washington and everybody else lives in Florida and Puerto Rico. Yes, my parents were Cubans who broke the mold. In short, cousins have always been a fantasy of mine and to see this fantasy lived through these two makes my heart sing.

Meet Baby Gonz...

2010-05-28T09:22:00.000-07:00

Our family grew by one yesterday.

Meet Alejandro (aka Alex) James Gonzalez. He had a bit of a rough journey into this world after getting a bit stuck. I guess 8 lbs., 11 oz., and 23 1/2 inches might do that to you, especially when your mom is tiny.

After spending several hours in ICU, he was finally reunited with mom and dad.

I love this little man so deeply already. Welcome, baby Alex. The world is your canvas...

Lessons Learned

2010-05-20T12:15:00.001-07:00

In January, Trevor and I made the decision to become foster parents. After two miscarriages and months of unsuccessful trying, it was time for some forward momentum. Thus began the tedious process of classes, paperwork, background checks, fingerprints, TB tests, First Aid/CPR/HIV training, and a home study. After countless hours of work and way too many hoops to jump through to count, by the end of April we had recieved our foster care license in the mail. We now reached the "waiting stage" of the process and surprisingly, we didn't have to wait long.

Last Monday we recieved a phone call from a social worker informing us that there were three kids who needed a place to stay - a 9-year-old girl, a 6-year-old girl, and a 3-year-old boy. We didn't hesitate for one second and said our home was more than open. As quickly as they came, they just as quickly went away, leaving behind a quiet that we no longer want. Yesterday they left us to live with their aunt and in turn have left us very contemplative, very sad, and yet nonetheless, very appreciative of the time we had with them.

The lessons we learned by having these children in our home for just 10 short days will remain with us for a lifetime. Here are just a few...

Hide the licorice and the pop.
Bath time requires rubber duckies and tupperware.
You don't need lots of toys or other things to keep kids entertained - a big back yard with dirt to dig in and a ball to kick around can be enough.
Teaching a 3-year-old how to use "please" and "thank you" can be the most intellectually challenging task you may ever face.
Hearing a 3-year-old say "please" or "thank you" unprompted can be the most rewarding part of your entire day.
Sparkly headbands and hot pink sandals can make any 6- and 9-year-old girls' dreams come true.
Strep throat sucks and strep throat times three sucks even more.
Taking three kids to a movie means you won't get to watch it. Period.
Sometimes cereal is good for dinner...and never, ever, ever put garlic in scrambled eggs.
Drawing and coloring and play dough are fun for everybody.
Hearing "I love you" and "I will miss you" from the mouths of babes can bring you to your knees.
Peace, quiet, and clean are completely and totally over rated.
Ten days is not too short of a period to fall in love with someone, and in our case, with three someones.

To L and A and E...thank you for being you.

The baby is 30...

2010-04-19T08:40:00.000-07:00

That's my little brother on the far left. I realize he's not so little anymore, and hasn't been for quite some time. In fact, he turned 30 this weekend, and in true form, he celebrated in style.

Of course this involved a little bit of beveraging, a little bit of dancing, and a little bit of gambling, all at the same time. As a witness of this foray, let me just note that my little brother can party with the best of them. I, on the other hand, was dead asleep by 11 p.m.

So, while he is able to do all of these things legally, and while in a matter of five or six weeks he is going to be a proud papa to an already-loved baby boy, he's still my little brother, and I'm stickin' to it. He's the one I used to stick in a stroller and push around while I played house, the one who I made play Barbies with me for countless hours, the one who I gave homework to so I could play teacher, the one who I created ice skating routines with in our very small living room, the one who I co-wrote and co-sang the song "Cute Little Lovers" (don't ask) with, the one who helped me secretly glue back together the broken pictures frames after our rousing games of knee-soccer, and the one who gracefully allowed me to carry him into my bed for literally years, just so I could get a good night's sleep.

In fact, while he is technically my little brother, he has often been the one to take care of me and he always had my back. When it comes to little brothers, I really did get the best of the best.

I love you, Gonzi!!!! Hopefully in your next 30 years you will eat a few more salads and not stay out so late. Happy Birthday!

Deep Thoughts Form Students, Entry 4:

2010-04-16T09:15:00.000-07:00

I cannot stop laughing. I am sitting back at my computer with the giggles and I can't stop.

Let me set the scene...

In my Freshman English class, we are getting ready to begin our final unit of the year, which revolves around the novel "To Kill a Mockingbird." As students are finishing up their essays on poetry, I thought it would be good to show a movie called "Pride" - which deals with issues of racism and perseverance - as a sort of pre-reading activity.

As we were reviewing the part of the film we watched yesterday, my student Joyce noticed the picture of Trevor and I on my computer desktop, which was being projected onto our big screen before I started the movie. The picture was taken when we were on our trip to St. John, and the background shows the turquoise waters of the Carribbean.

Joyce says: Hey, I like that picture.

I say: Thank you!

Maria says: Look at that beach! Where was that taken?

I say: On a little island called St. John. It's in the Virgin Islands.

Joyce says (very seriously): The Virgin Islands? Maria, you can't ever go there.

The entire class - including me - bursts into laughter.

The thing is, the kids have let it go, and here I am - still giggling.

I love my job. I really, really love my job.

Good Ole Tennessee

2010-04-05T17:39:00.000-07:00

I am just going to get straight to the point. When one of the first things you see while driving around Nashville is the sign below, you know you are in for a good time.

In short, this is what we did...

1) While Trevor filled his belly with whiskey, I filled mine with glasses and glasses of sweet tea. I love sweet tea. I want to fill up a baby pool with sweet tea and swim in it...let's just pretend that visual never happened.

2) We posed with every Elvis we could find. Enough said.
3) Candace hooked us up with NHL tickets, so we watched the Nashville Predators beat the St. Louis Blues. To make it even better, in between the first and second periods, Winona Judd appeared out of nowhere to sing a fews songs. I pretty much lived the childhood dream of Alissa all in the matter of a couple hours. It rocked. I loved it.
4) We visited the Jack Daniel's Distillery, which happens to be in a dry county. Nonetheless, we rocked in some rocking chairs, we posed with Jack's statue, and we smelled whiskey being made at every stage, which brought some of us back to our college days.

5) We met our friend Beverly for lunch. Beverly was with the Tennessee group on our honeymoon and spent most of the trip making us laugh and laugh and laugh. We loved meeting her husband and catching up over some pretty impressive Mexican food. Let me just say that in Tennesee, no matter what restaurant you go to, they feature "Cheese Dip" on their appetizer menus. Cheese Dip is delicious, and I have evry intention of bringing this trend to Washington.
6) And, of course, we went to the Grand Ole Opry. Trevor wore his new hat, I wore my new boots, and we all got the giggles after every single "Used-to-be a Country Music Singer 50 years Ago" graced the stage. Nonetheless, it was absolutely worth the experience.
In conclusion, I just have to say that I am not quite sure how our friendship with Candace and Kelly has become what it is, but when the four of us are together, it is like we have known each other for years. I love that, and cannot wait until next time.

Conversations with Teens

2010-02-23T07:27:00.000-08:00

I am sure it goes without saying that I like teenagers. I do, I really do. As a matter of fact, I have always found it interesting that when I meet people for the first time and they ask me what I do, often times these people react with dismay.

Not me. I like 'em. I really do.

And last night only proved to me that teenagers are very, very funny.

Case in point:

Conversation #1:
Ariel: Mrs. Smith, does your flower need to be watered?
Mrs. Smith: Actually, it does.
Ariel: Can I water your flower?
Karla: That's dirty, Ariel.
Ariel: I mean, can I water that flower? (points at the flower)
Mrs. Smith: I think I am going to throw up.

Conversation #2:
Shelley: I really want to take a picture of my golf clubs.
Karla: Huh? Why?
Shelley: I think it would make a cool picture. One of my clubs has a big head on it.
Karla: (giggles)
Shelley: It's a big head that's black and you can see your reflection in it.
Karla and Mrs. Smith make eye contact...conversation ends in an uproar of laughter.

Yes, I know. Teenagers have dirty minds. This is exactly why I think they are so funny.

And then this happened:

http:www.youtube.com/user/traintrakka

They scared the living daylights out of me. And, of course, they made me laugh my butt off.

Funny, indeed.

Random Thoughts on Finals Day 1...

2010-01-21T09:15:00.000-08:00

Peanuts covered in maple glaze sometimes just hit the spot
Telling 14-year-olds they can't talk until all the tests are turned in NEVER works...even if donuts are involved
Politicians suck
Politicians who preach about charter schools and merit-based pay for teachers suck the most
Sears sucks sometimes, like when they send you a broken treadmill that you paid a big chunk of money for and then won't return your emails or your phone calls
I really, really, really don't like pork chops
Sending money to Haiti just doesn't seem like enough
Suffering sucks
Brand new, sharpened pencils bring me joy
Tomorrow Melanikis turns the same age Jesus was when he was crucified...my mom likes to point this out anytime someone turns 33
My mom is random, but she cooks a mean arroz con pollo
Speaking of random, I must remind myself to explain to my SET students certain American colloquialisms because ever since I told them they were "driving me nuts," they have been telling each other "Stop driving MY nuts"...not good
One final done today, two more to go

A Weekend in Winthrop

2010-01-18T16:27:00.001-08:00

Let me begin by saying that I am embarassed at how our weekend away started. I just have to get it off my chest because I feel like a total ass...when we walked into our cabin in Winthrop and there clearly was not a DVD player like the ad had stated, I started to cry.

I know.

I'm pathetic.

And irrational.

And over-emotional.

What else is new, right?

But this is exactly why I'm putting it out there because I want the world to know that I KNOW that I am pathetic. With that said, I have to tell you, the missing in action DVD player turned out to be a blessing in disguise, and here is why...

For our 3-year dating anniversary, Trevor and I rented a cabin to get away and enjoy some quality time together. It truly is amazing how much more quality your time becomes when television is not involved, and I'm not blowing smoke up your wazoos here. I really, really mean it. We strolled through the cowboy town of Winthrop, sipping on coffee and caramel apple cider, and browsing through the many shops. In one of those shops, Trevor picked out a book (which he never does) and in another one we bought a deck of cards and a cribbage board. So at night, instead of zoning out to movies, we snuggled up on the couch and read together (ummm, can you say best foreplay EVER?) and over the course of the weekend played 10 rounds of cribbage. I'm not competitive or anything, but for the record, I won eight times. You do the math.

We also enjoyed one day of intense snowshoeing. By "enjoyed" what I really mean is that in the span of 4 miles and 3 hours, I laughed, I cried, and I puked. Yes, I puked. I don't want to talk about it. I also yelled at my husband and told him I was never going to snowshoe with him again, but that was a lie. The truth is, it was amazingly beautiful out there and as much as it hurt to climb up very, very steep hills, spending that time with Trevor who never, ever gives up on me only reiterated that I will indeed snowshoe again and again and again.

You may ask yourself, what is Sara doing in that picture below? The answer is, Sara is laughing her ass off after falling down AGAIN. Who falls snowshoeing, which really is a glorified way of saying WALKING IN THE SNOW? Ummmm, me, that's who.

We also enjoyed a horse sleigh ride that ended with a cowboy dinner in a tent (thankfully it was warm) in the middle of the mountains. The ride was so much fun, the food was amazing, and the company was hysterical. Besides Trevor and I, there was a group of six men who had gone to high school together and who meet up every year to go skiing during this particular weekend. One of the guys is the guy on the MacSnack commericials for McDonald's. No joke. I asked him if he would sign our Big Mac box we had back in our truck. I'm not so sure he was as amused as I was. Needless to say, I never got his autograph.
In short, our weekend in Winthrop was wonderful (apparently I'm a genius at alliteration), and maybe, just maybe, we will turn off our own TV more often.

A New Year

2010-01-01T12:59:00.001-08:00

Dear Universe,

School starts tomorrow and I'm lining all my ducks up in a row - the grocery shopping is done, one set of papers is graded, clothes are washed, hair is clean, legs are shaved, and the internal pep talks have begun. With that said, it's time for a heart to heart.

I'm not quite sure how to break this to you, so I'm just going to say it - I am a bit displeased. Displeased, you ask? Yes, displeased. I know, I know, I know...I have so much to be thankful for and I am truly blessed in numerous ways. NONE of this goes unnoticed or unappreciated, trust me. I just need a little help here, and being that this week marks the start of a new year and a new decade, I thought I might just ask for some.

I guess what I'm asking is, can you PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE just give this girl a break? You know what I'm talking about, so I'm just going to leave it at that. I need you to tilt your axis a bit in my favor, if you know what I mean, and I promise you I will do my part.

You see, I am going to slow down and get back to what I have always loved to do - read and write and knit and sew and travel and go for walks and love my husband and spoil my animals and laugh with my friends and appreciate my family and be kind to my students. And when June rolls around, I am not going to work one measly second this summer and I am going to try to convince Melanikis to do that same so that we can host a wedding (hint, hint Andria), go to the pool, and can just like our grandmas used to do. And I'm going to finish our honeymoon scrapbook, put together a wedding album, and maybe, just maybe, actually organize all the pictures on our computer so we can make Smith family photo albums.

In short, I'm going to get back ME and just thinking about it makes me want to throw myself a little party.

So, dear Universe, if you can hear me, I would really appreciate your help in all of this. I believe I have paid my dues and weathered the storms in a relatively dignified fashion (let's just pretend that whole breakdown on Christmas never happened) and I need the stars to align for me. I figure if I align my stars then you can align yours. Fair? Fair.

Until we meet again,

Sara

Many Gracias

2009-11-25T08:23:00.000-08:00

I am thankful for (in no particular order)...

half-days of school
the joy and excitement of knowing I will be watching "New Moon" in approximately 6 and a half hours
students who say "thank you"
hooded sweatshirts and pajama pants
long hair
vacuum cleaners and Swiffer dusters
dishwashers
a husband who loves to cook
McDonald's french fries
Dairy Queen Blizzards
people who drive the speed limit
a healthy and vibrant mom
a brother and sister who I genuinely like
a niece who cracks me up
friends who share their kids with me
friends who bring me Chai tea at school
geese flying south for the winter
my cat, Norah, who greets me on the driveway everyday when I come home
my cat, Olive, who loves you even after you toss her across the room for jumping on your boobs
my puppies, Powder and Moo Moo, who are ALWAYS happy to see me
trips to Disneyland
the beach
blasting music in my car and singing at the top of my lungs
Reality T.V. and cooking shows
new pens and pencils
Adam Lambert, controversy and all

Deep Thoughts From Students, Entry 3:

2009-10-28T12:42:00.000-07:00

This is the conversation I just heard in my yearbook classroom:

Jordin: Oh my gosh! Look at that huge cleavage hair!

Girls Around Jordin (as they all look down at their cleavage): What? What are you talking about?

Jordin (who pulls a gigantor piece of hair off of Reyna's shirt): Look at it! Cleavage hair is a real problem these days.

Me (only speaking inside of my head): Yes, yes it is.

Goodbye Molly...

2009-10-12T16:10:00.000-07:00

To the kitty we affectionately called Fluffy...Thank you for the last 13 years. We love you and will always miss you.

Nostalgia

2009-10-12T16:07:00.000-07:00

My Pullman Checklist:

Dinner at New Garden - Check
Catching up with my dad - Check
Sleeping in until 11 - Check
A burger and fries at Cougar Country - Check
Watching the Cougs play their version of football - Check
Kicking Katy and Trevor's butts in a rousing game of "Life" - Check
Sleeping in until 11 once again - Check
A quick trip to the Bookie - Check
A small green salad with a bread twist at Sella's - Check
Enjoying the view of wheat fields and old barns - Double-check

A Confession...

2009-10-04T16:40:00.000-07:00

Here's the thing - I wasn't raised in a materialistic home. Our mismatched couches came from garage sales, our silverware came from Goodwill, and to this day, my mother finds no pleasure in shopping for things for her house. I think that's what happens when you've watched your parents literally "give up" all of their posessions in order to come to the United States. And let me make it clear that in Cuba, my mother's parents had LOTS of posessions.

With that said, I'm embarassed to admit that I have an obsession with a possession.

Okay, in all honesty, I have three obsessions with possessions.

#1 - Books. I love them, I need them, I literally surround myself with them. They are my friends and if I am really honest, they are also my trophies. I don't have trophies for any athletic accolades and reading has always been something I am good at. I think I can kick a little ass in reading. And so my books are a non-negotiable. They're staying put, people.

#2 - Dishes. I love dishes. I love dishes that match. I especially love crisp, white dishes and dishes that are accented with red. Perhaps this comes from some deep-rooted feeling of inadequecy, being that in my childhood, our dishes never matched. Never. This is probably why when my mom bought her home several years ago, I bought her a dish set.

And last but not least #3 - Bedding!!! - which is what prompted me to write this post to begin with being that today we purchased a new duvet and new pillows. This particular obsession stems back to "The Sound of Music" and the bed Julie Andrews had. I wanted that bed, I wanted that comforter, and I have worked very hard to get it in my own way.

Books, dishes and bedding. I love them. I confess.

Bow Down to the Sausage

2009-09-22T17:48:00.000-07:00

A week ago today my family gathered for the annual Sausage Fest, and the reason I haven't blogged before now is because 1) school is taking up way too much of my time, 2) I continue to hack up a lung every few minutes, and 3) I subsequently have no energy left for anything. With that said, to not post about Sausage Fest would be sacreligious being that for the last 25 years of my life my entire family has gathered together to partake in the festivities. For the last 3 years, Trevor has graciously joined us.

This year my sister, brother, their spouses, my niece, and our friends Scott, Margaret and their boys all drove down from Seattle to do the following:

1) Partake in the rousing carnival games, including but not limited to "The Duck Pond," "Scat Cat," "The Lollipop Tree," and "Shooting Hoops," as seen below. Please note both my niece's and my sister's natural shot, yet neither of them made a shot. I, however, the one with no athletic ability, did, and came home with a coupon for a free McDonald's ice cream cone. Ah, sweet victory!!!

2) We played bingo. None of us won but we sure enjoyed giggling when "O 69" was called...every time.

3) Of course, we ate sausages. Please look closely at the kids' drawings below. I believe they capture the essence of Sausage Fest.

4) We watched the fabulous entertainment. Our favorites every year are the dance teams. Adam and Austin were completely mesmerized.

5) And lastly, we celebrated our family's September birthdays with a DQ ice cream cake.

Until, next year, my dear sausage. We will meet again.

Meet Travis and Tara

2009-09-15T19:35:00.000-07:00

You may think the picture below is of Trevor and Sara but you are mistaken.

Meet Travis and Tara, a happily married couple who spent the weekend in Matlock, WA at the beautiful wedding of our friends Nate and Maya. I swear to you we introduced ourselves as Trevor and Sara but nonetheless we became Travis and Tara. Instead of fighting it we embraced it. After all, apparently many of the wedding guests had changed their names at some point in their lives. Take for instance Lulu. She said to me, "Hi, I'm Lulu." I said, "Hi, I'm Sara." She said, "Nice to meet you Tara. Actually, my real name is Pat but I don't like it so I call myself Lulu." I didn't have the heart to tell her that my real name wasn't Tara and so my new alias began.

The wedding scene was absolutely stunning. Everything took place on Maya's mother's property. The weather was perfect and the colors of the surrounding gardens and forest were gorgeous.

Nate and Maya - who we hadn't seen since our visit with them this summer in St. John - got married under a pair of married trees (trees whose trunks are growing into each other). I, of course, cried and Trevor didn't. Imagine that.

The food was the BEST wedding food I have ever had. Everything was homemade, from the beef loin with a cabernet mushroom sauce to the salmon with lemon butter sauce, I am pretty sure I died and went to heaven.
And then there was the dessert buffet. Need I say anymore?

The evening sky was breathtaking...

...but not at breathtaking as my husband's belly painted with a face. If you must know why, I will tell you in private.
Congratulations, Nate and Maya! We love you!

Where to begin...

2009-09-04T14:14:00.000-07:00

Well, here I am. I have been absent for quite some time now and I figured I should try and forge a comeback. The thing is, I really am not sure where I am supposed to begin. I feel like there is so much - yet so little - that I really want to say.

The truth is, life is good. The proof is in the pudding:

We officially have a front yard AND a backyard with grass, and yes, this is an accomplishment.

The basement floor has been painted and trim has been put up in one of the two rooms. Once again, yes, this is an accomplishment.

Vacation has been taken, sun tans were made, food and drink was consumed, and fun was had.

School has begun, yet it feels like it never really ended. Nonetheless, one week is down, only 41 more to go. The thing is, 41 weeks sounds wonderful. This new high school is unbelievable. The facility is gorgeous, the leadership is honest, the staff is positive, and the kids are ready to go.

Family rocks. Our nephew Wyatt turned one last month and joyfully stuffed his face with cake. My brother and his wife are back in Seattle, hopefully for good this time. Our niece Ana started 1st grade on Wednesday and is beside herself with joy.

Friends rock too. Bonita Flanagita and Adam bought a home and moved out of our commune. Alex quickly moved in. I swear to you, we really should win some award for helping the homeless. After much searching and planning, Melanikis and I currently own the exact same Chiawana High School wardrobe. Yes, we need to cut the chord.

Underneath all of this, the truth is, I am exhausted and stressed and seriously contemplating the possibility of assuming a new identity and disappearing into the great abyss.

One day at a time, Sara, one day at a time...

Cat Attack

2009-08-03T15:30:00.000-07:00

Let me tell you a little story about a man who believes that cats and dogs should be submissive to human beings. This is a man who has rightfully earned the title of "Pack Leader" in our home and who clearly has much more authority over the animals who live in this home than I do. When Trevor says "no" to Powder, Moo, Norah, or Olive, they actually listen, which let's just say is a skill I am still working on.

But yesterday, after helping our friends move ALL DAY LONG, Trevor learned a very important lessons about cats who aren't ready to move and who certainly aren't going to let you make them ready to move.

Take a look at the proof:

Chippy Sky Cloud - our friends' lovely but socially disturbed cat - let Trevor know last night who was boss. When he came running into the house with his hands cupped tightly to stop the blood from dripping, I thought for sure he had lost a finger to a saw. Luckily, after much dousing with hydrogen peroxide and rubbing alcohol, I was able to stop hyperventilating, then run to get the camera and snap a few priceless photos.

Priceless, you ask?

Yes, priceless, because my husband has never stopped giving my grief for letting our animals "walk all over me." Funny, funny.

Needless to say Chippy did not move last night. She stayed one more night in her very own castle while Trevor smothered Neosporin all over his many lacerations.

Final Score: Chippy 1, Trevor 0

Two weeks in paradise...

2009-07-19T21:16:00.000-07:00

I have been thinking about writing this blog since we got back on Saturday. I am not entirely sure how to capture our trip to Puerto Rico, St. John, and St. Thomas in words and pictures, as I'm not quite sure either can do our trip justice. But I figure it's time I stop stalling and give this a go.

Our adventure began at Isla Verde Beach, where we floated, paddled and swam for hours on end. I also screamed bloody murder when Trevor discovered a baby crab sitting in my hair. I was not happy. I am pretty sure, though, that Trevor could not have been more pleased.

We also enjoyed piraguas (a.k.a. snow cones). Let me just say that I consider myself an expert on snow cones and shaved ice, and there is truly no place on the planet that makes a snow cone like Puerto Rico does. The ice is shaved by hand and DRENCHED in the syrup of your choice. These really should win some worldwide culinary award.

We also visited El Morro, and old Spanish fortress that sits just outside of Old San Juan. Trevor sat on balls (because I made him), and I straddled a canon (because I wanted to), but because I write this blog, the only picture you will see is the one of Trevor sitting on balls.

I snapped this photo of my dad and Trevor at El Morro and I love it. It makes me happy.

Trevor found a girlfriend at our second hotel...Pica the big-ass bird. She was obsessed with him and followed him up and down the stairs and insisted on sitting on his arm. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. Isn't that how the other woman always acts?

We had a wonderful time spending our evenings with my family. Trevor met my grandmother, my aunt, and my cousins, and let me just say for the record that they were FASCINATED with my husband. Apparently a white boy who eats anything in front of him is enough to win over an entire Cuban brood. He is now affectionately known as "El Americano," and I am pretty sure Trevor has now helped to bridge the cultural gap for white people everywhere.

We then rode a ferry to St. John to visit friends of Trevor from college. The ferry ride was amazing and much needed after the 40-minute flight in a prop plane to St. Thomas almost had me puking my guts out.

While in St. John, this is what you can expect to see - 1) humping donkeys on the side of the road,

2) spectacular views no matter where you go,

and 3) turquoise beaches galore.

We went to St. John to visit Maya, one of Trevor's close friends from college. She took us snorkeling at several spectacular beaches and so we snorkeled for hours. We saw a stingray feeding (amazing but scary), a little crew of reef squid (I swear they stare at you), and an incredible array of fish that come in an incredible array of colors. Maya also fed us like kings and queens every night and never once poked fun of us for having to move to a hotel because we were dying without air conditioning. I love her.

Our last day in St. John we went sailing around the island with some friends of Maya. Now Trevor wants a sailboat (thank you Tony for already getting one). I must admit, though, that sailing is amazingly fun and relaxing, especially if you are the one who just has to sit there and enjoy the ride, which is exactly what I did.

We spent our last day of vacation in St. Thomas, at which point we were so exhausted we went to the beach and once again floated, paddled, and swam for hours, which is exactly how one should bid farewell to the Caribbean. Farewell, my Caribbean! Until next time ... and there will be a next time.

Bigger Bags

2009-06-30T22:07:00.001-07:00

In three days we will board a plane headed for Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands.

After checking out our "To get..." list, I am starting to think we need bigger bags.

I think I can fit in the goat and pig, but I am not so sure about the motorcycle and tractor.

Note to self - when creating a list of things to get before a 2-week vacation, make sure to tell the husband what the list is for.

A sign???

2009-06-23T15:38:00.001-07:00

This is what happens when you hop in the shower for a quick rinse and your dog discovers your basal thermometer that fell under your bed just this very morning. I decided I had two choices:

#1 - Kill the dog.

#2 - Take a picture and write a post on my blog.

You can see which decision I made and I'm still not quite sure it was the right one. Okay, okay, I'm overreacting. After all, it's not the dog's fault that the thermometer was under the bed to begin with, and there is also the small little detail that I can always go buy a new thermometer while I'm pretty sure I can't go find a new Moo.

Still, I can't help but wonder whether or not this is some sort of sign that I'm supposed to stop trying to "bake a little bun in my little oven (yes, I chose the word "little" to make myself feel better). We've been trying for 11 months now - 11 MONTHS, PEOPLE, and if you can't tell, I'm about to freakin' LOSE it! I suppose that, yet again, there are really only two choices:

#1 - Close the "bakery" down.

#2 - Go purchase new "baking" utensils.

This analogy is getting out of hand...Fred Meyer's here I come.

Poo-poo

2009-06-22T20:12:00.000-07:00

I had every intention of writing this post yesterday. After all, yesterday was our one-year anniversary and I had it all planned out - I was going to describe our wedding day and give all the reasons why I love being married. It was going to be beautiful.

And then the flu happened. So instead of writing beautiful memoirs and enjoying a romantic dinner for two, I spent the entire day curled in a fetal position on the couch battling a fever and explosive poo-poo, and my husband never left my side. All I could think of was my all-time favorite quote, which my brother so graciously included in our wedding ceremony - "Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans."

Prior to the flu, however, I managed to snap this picture of Trevor with our wedding cake topper, which my mother-in-law graciously saved for us - flowers and all - for the past year. We have yet to enjoy a slice due to the explosive poo-poo, but maybe by tomorrow all will be "settled."

Also prior to the flu we spent a wonderful weekend with Trevor's family to celebrate Father's Day. Trevor's brother Gavin, his wife Tiffany, and their son Wyatt came into town which was probably the best Father's Day gift my father-in-law could have received. He was thrilled to tote around his grandson and somehow, some way we didn't get on picture of that. Funny how that happens...But we did get some other good family photos, as seen below.

Happy Late 1st Anniversary, baby. I love you more today than I did yesterday. I keep waiting for that not to happen but you never cease to amaze me with your integrity, your charm, your commitment, and your friendship. You are the man I always dreamed of. Thank you.

Now, may the poo-poo go away and may we celebrate in style...sooner than later, please.

The End of a Chapter

2009-06-12T08:13:00.000-07:00

So this is it, and I'm not quite sure what to feel.

In August I will be unpacking my boxes in a different classroom in a different building, and while I have been waiting for this time to come for literally the last two years, now that it is here I want to both jump for joy and crawl under my covers to cry for a while.

When I came to PHS six years ago to complete my student teaching, I had no idea what an impact this place would have on my life. At the time, I really believed that I would finish my 10-week student teaching gig and then either move to Seattle to be near my sister or move to Ellensburg to be with someone who shall remain nameless and who, to this day, reminds me that sometimes heartache is a blessing in disguise. Needless to say, neither of these moves happened mostly because 1) I fell in love with the students here, 2) they offered me a job immediately following my student teaching, and perhaps most importantly, 3) divine intervention does indeed exist.

Divine intervention, you ask? Yes, my friends, DIVINE INTERVENTION. And I can prove it. Dim the lights and cue the music...

Because of PHS I met Bonita Flanagita, who quickly became my partner in crime and just as quickly became a part of my internal makeup. She simply has become a part of me. We have been there for each other through every loss and every gain and I truly cannot imagine my life without her.
Because of PHS I met Natalie K., who came into my life EXACTLY when I needed her. She embraced me fully into her life and brought back laughter into my life, which I so desperately needed. Plus, she led me to Alissa S., who has become my sounding board on life, love, and politics. I don't know what I would do without her.
Because of PHS I was "reunited" with Tony and Melanie. We had always kept in touch and would occassionally get together for a dinner once we all were living in the T-Cs, but it wasn't until Melanie started her student teaching at PHS that we became inseperable. I don't really know how to say it, but when I think of Melanie I just feel so proud because she represents all that I want to be - passionate, empathetic, driven, strong, and beautiful. Our bond is stronger than friendship. Really, what we have done is become family. I, for one, cannot wait to grow old together. It won't be pretty, but it will be a hell of a lot of fun.
Because of PHS I stayed in the T-Cs which means that I was finally able to meet the love of my life. I still find it fascinating that both Trevor and I moved back here during the same month of the same year. While we didn't meet until five years later, I often feel like we were living parallel lives and it was only a matter of time before our paths were supposed to cross. Trevor reminds me everyday that HE is EXACTLY why I was supposed to stay here. As Melanie has often said, he is the ying to my yang, and life without him is unimaginable..
And of course because of PHS I learned that people are inherently GOOD. I saw this everyday in my coworkers (Cathy, Phyllis, Marty, Sarah, Tom, Stacy, Rachel, Brad...just to name a few) and in my students (Mayra, Marcos, Vernice, Brandon, Jose, Celeste, Jesse, Cynthia, Brittany, Eric, Emmanuel, Yuritzi, Adriana, My, Sofia, Dimitri, Dominic, Daniel...I really could go on and on...). These people have touched me with their modesty, their humor, their grace, and their integrity. I have to say, when I went into teaching I only thought about the difference I would make. I never imagined that the difference I would make would be miniscule in comparison to the difference these kids would make in my life. They have made me a better human being, and for that I owe them the world.

Do you believe me now? This life that I am leading now is the life I was always supposed to have. It is the life I dreamed of as a child - one in which I look forward to going to work everyday, one in which I feel like what I do matters, one in which I am surrounded by friends and family who love me and support me, and one in which I am walking side-by-side with a man who brings out the best in me.

Goodbye, PHS. What a ride it has been...and thank you for preparing me for the next one.

25 Years and Still Counting!

2009-05-26T19:41:00.000-07:00

Last night my mom was recognized for 25 years of teaching for the Richland School District and Trevor and I were there to take pictures and give flowers, just like any proud children would do. In total, she has actually taught for 40 years, which just seems unbelievable to me but is nonetheless true. Check my mother out...

...they gave her this beautiful painting for her years of service. Apparantly at 30 years you get an even bigger painting and at 35 years you get an even bigger, bigger one. I am assuming that at 40 years they will come and paint a mural in your house.

Outside of the whole teaching thing, though, last night got me thinking about my mom and about her ability to survive and persevere. The truth is, 25 years ago my mother packed up her three kids, her furniture, and some boxes of stuff into a U-Haul and left behind the town that marked the end of her marriage to my father. This move was a huge risk. She knew nobody in Richland and had not taught high shool for a little over five years. My mom has often said this was the best move of her life. She raised her kids with peace, established lifelong friendships, and continues to make an impact teaching teenagers a little bit of Spanish. In fact, wherever we go in the Tri-Cities, we run into at least one person who once sat in her classroom and my mother usually remembers their Spanish name. Yes, my mother is indeed amazing.

I am just glad that for once I got to cheer my mother on, as she has always been my number one cheerleader. Here's to my mom...Go, mama, go!

Reunited, And It Feels So Good!!!

2009-05-25T19:13:00.000-07:00

A little less than a year ago, as Trevor and I embarked on our honeymoon in Greece, we had no inkling of the friendships we would begin to forge with a group of Tenneseeans who happened to be on the same Grecian tour. For both Trevor and I, this group became our saving grace as the vast majority of the people on the tour turned out to be old, grumpy, cantakerous complainers. This weekend, Candace and Kelly -two of the initial group of six - flew out to Seattle to experience the Pacific Northwest, and let me just say for the record, we had the BEST time. We went to a Mariners' game, walked for hours around the city, and drove to Anacortes to catch the ferry to experience the San Juan Islands. Best of all, we laughed for hours (literally), we ate an enourmous amount of food (literally), and we engaged in inspiring conversations on an array of topics (most of which shall remain nameless).

While we left Greece last July hoping to keep in touch, this weekend proved you truly can make friends wherever you go. Here is to the start of a beautiful friendship...

What I Know For Sure...

2009-05-21T08:09:00.000-07:00

Let me preface this blog by saying that I am not in the best place today. I am exhausted beyond all belief, I am so stressed out I am breaking out with cold sores, and yesterday my mom scared the living snot out of me when she called to say she was hooked up to an EKG machine because she almost fainted at school.

In short, I am a grump pile today, and then this happened...

I was on my way to work this morning, listening to my usual radio station of choice, when the conversation changed to the results of "American Idol" last night. The DJs were all very angry that Adam did not win (um, I ditto that) and they were taking callers to give their opinions on the matter. Here is what the snooty, snoot-head woman with an Australian accent said, "If you are going to post pictures on your MySpace page of your unclean lifestyle, then you are going to lose." What she really meant to say was, "If you are gay, you are going to lose."

Now, I am very aware of this particular outlook on the world - you know, the one ignited by fear and hate - but I still feel as if I must respond in the way I know how (i.e. writing on my blog). After all, if I don't, then I am no better than the hate-spewers themselves. Those who know me know that I do not see life in terms of right or wrong, good or evil, or even black or white, but there is one area of humanhood that I simply will not negotitate on, which leads me to this -

What I know FOR SURE is that HATE, my friends, is the one "sin" that leads to all others.

So perhaps - just perhaps - before any of us make the decision to label anything or anyone "right," "wrong," "good," "evil," "clean," or "unclean," we should ask ourselves what sort of lasting impression we want to leave on this planet.

After all, nobody will remember you for your so-called righteousness.

What people will remember is how GOOD you were to others, irregardless of your judgments about what people do or don't do with their lives. And hopefully, most of all, what people will remember about you is your GRACE.

If that's what others remember about me, then I will know I have lived well.

I know that FOR SURE too.

Confessions from an Idol-holic

2009-05-19T21:22:00.000-07:00

I have a confession to make. I am obsessed with Adam Lambert, and while there is a part of me that is mortified to admit this, there is another part of me that thinks I should just embrace it. So here I am, "embracing" it.

Yes, my friends, I am a 31-year-old professional who #1, gets nervous every time Adam sings and #2, yells at her television when the judges say something she doesn't agree with. Worse yet, I am starting to dream about him. I won't go into details, but let's just say that sometimes these dreams involve Trevor and sometimes they involve me. I'll let your imagination run wild with that one.

The bottom line is, I'm a little concerned.

Okay, I'm more than concerned.

I know, I know. I have a real problem. But don't they always say that the first step to solving a problem is admitting you have one in the first place?

So I admit it. I love Adam Lambert. And if my dreams are at all accurate, Adam Lambert sure loves me. Oh, yes, and Trevor, too.

Deep Thoughts from High School Students, Entry 2

2009-05-13T19:11:00.000-07:00

So I decided to try something new this semester in my Chicano/Latino Literature class and I'm starting to think this "something new" backfired. I created a project and presentation that allowed students to research a Latino music artist or group hoping that #1, they would have fun learning and that #2, I could trick them into analyzing poetry under the guise of music, which all teenagers claim to be experts on anyway.

I know, GENIUS, right?

Well, apparantly not and I have good ol' Miguelito to thank for it.

Miguelito decided to research Shakira. I am sure this doesn't need to be said but Shakira is pretty much any 17-year-old boy's fantasy.

All was going well for the first two minutes. Miguelito presented wonderful information on Shakira's childhood, family background, her break into the music industry, her style of music, and her contributions to the Latino music industry. I must say, I was pretty damn impressed.

And then he clicked to the last slide of his Power Point and this is what I saw: "Last Interesting Fact: Shakira loves chocolate balls." Miguel read this slide with great pride and the rest of the class burst out laughing.

Meanwhile I said, "Miguel, did you really just say 'Shakira loves chocolate balls'"?

"Yes," Miguelito said. "That is very important to know."

God help us all.

Reflections of a Mother's Day past...

2009-05-11T20:14:00.000-07:00

This past weekend we headed to Roslyn (what's up 'Northern Exposure'!) to meet up with my sister, her husband, my niece, and my mom at a rented cabin. This is what I learned:

1) When it comes to family, neutral territory is a good thing.

2) Fries dipped in mashed potatoes and gravy and Baked Cheddar Lays dipped in Melanie's mom's homemade mustard are TO DIE FOR.

3) When you lay in grass by a river, ticks will find you but you won't know it until...

4) ...the Croatian man at the town's only gift shop shouts "Don't move!" so he can remove the tick that is crawling on your sister's chest. No joke.

5) Hot tubs not filled with water do not work.

6) Swinging on swings never stops being fun.

7) Wading in lakes is usually made possible by uncles who don't mind getting dirty.

8) Mountain peaks with snow make fantastic backdrops for pictures.

9) Sword fights with sticks can inspire fantastic imaginings of Water Wizards. Just ask Ana. She'll tell you all about it.

10) Moms are ten times happier with gifts of time than with any other type of gift.

A Dream Realized

2009-05-06T19:09:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday, Sandra Cisneros - the author of "The House on Mango Street" - came to our high school to give a talk for our students. Before I continue, let me make this very clear - I love Sandra Cisneros. Actually, I LOVE, LOVE Sandra Cisneros. While she has written many other books and poetry collections, I read "The House on Mango Street" many, many years ago and the bottom line is it just resonated with me. After all, how could a story about a young Latina girl fighting her culture's expectations of what a woman should be and how she should act NOT resonate with me? Been there, done that. Which is probably why when I was working on creating a Chicano/Latino Literature class over two years ago, I knew "The House on Mango Street" had to be part of the curriculum, and so it is. But the best part about Sandra Cisneros coming on Tuesday - in the end - had very little to do with me. Take a look at the picture below:

Sandra Cisneros is the one next to me. The other two girls were part of the group of first students to take Chicano/Latino Literature last semester and like me, they just got IT. When they both heard that Sandra Cisneros was coming, they could barely contain their excitement. I know, I know. Students getting excited over an author? Unbelievable, right? But it's true. So on Tuesday they sat there - along with the rest of my students - and listened to what she had to say. Afterwards, both of them went up to her to ask her questions. She was wonderful to them - she told them to keep in touch with her and she hugged them several times and even kissed both of them on their cheeks. They were completely beside themselves with joy.

As a teacher, there are so many times when I question whether I am doing a good job. I often wonder if I am really making a difference and if what I do on a daily basis actually MATTERS to anyone. Nobody ever tells you in your education classes that as a teacher, you will need to know how to cope with self-doubt because without this skill, you might as well toss in the hat now. Believe me, self-doubt in teaching can be a daily occurence.

And then there are days like Tuesday. As I sat back and watched my students enjoy and appreciate listening to Sandra Cisneros, and then literally bounce with excitement because she actually talked to them, I thought to myself, "Maybe, just maybe, I have done something right."

Corn on the Freakin' Cob!!!

2009-05-03T13:55:00.000-07:00

Do not dwell on the fact that I look hideous in this picture. Instead, please take note of the corn that lies in front of my face. This corn was purchased for $2 at the Cinco de Mayo fesitivites this weekend and if I may, I would like to state that this was the best $2 I have spent in a long time. In fact, prior to this corn, I never imagined that $2 could purchase my own little taste of heaven, but oh, it did. This corn was boiled in a large pot of water in its husk. It was then de-husked, stabbed with a stick, lathered in butter, rolled in Mexican cotija cheese, and placed in my hand. My hand then shoved the corn into my mouth, at which point the skies opened up and the angels sang. In short, this corn made my day and I cannot stop thinking about it. All I can say is, this summer I am going to channel my inner-Mexican and there will be much corn slathered in butter and cheese and then subsequently consumed. Who would like to join me?

Happy Birthday, Trevor!

2009-04-21T21:06:00.001-07:00

My baby turned 33 yesterday and as we are known to do, we celebrated in style. We took the day off from work, slept in a bit, went out for breakfast, shopped for saws, bought some special screws, took the dogs for a walk, and then bathed the dogs (which entailed some nudity and a ton of dirt). We then came home and feasted on grilled steaks, baked potatoes, and chocolate cupcakes with our favorite friends. I mean, really, what more can you ask for? Maybe a tick burred into your dog's neck? Oh, yes, we got that too.

Happy Birthday, Trevor! I love you!

Deep Thoughts from High School Students, Entry 1:

2009-04-14T09:39:00.000-07:00

It really is unbelievable the things that come out of teenagers' mouths. In fact, I should probably have an entire blog dedicated to the things that come out of teenagers' mouths, but I've got to draw a line somewhere.

Today, however, a student in my WASL group inspired me to begin this series...yes, that means I am committing to sharing with the world the amazing things that come out of teenagers' mouths. This is Entry 1, and it goes a little something like this:

Teacher (who shall remain nameless because he was just my WASL partner and nothing else): Have you heard of that family with 18 kids that has a T.V. show?

Me: I HATE that show! Those people freak me out! Although, I did watch the one show where their oldest son got married and I must admit, it was fascinating.

Teacher: Yeah, yeah!!! Did you know that that kid and his wife are expecting their first baby?

Me: Surprise, surprise.

Enter in Student (who has been listening to our conversation): How many kids do they have?

Me: 18. And their oldest is getting ready to have a baby.

Student: 18???

Me: Yes, 18.

And here comes the good part...

Student: My God! It's a vagina, not a circus car!

Me: Mouth drops to floor...SILENCE. After all, what left is there to say?

The thing is, I'm not quite sure I could have said it better myself.

The Boot

2009-04-08T17:08:00.000-07:00

Let me introduce you to my boot.

This is what happens when you walk around Vegas for 5 hours in flip-flops. Apparently what happens is you sprain your medial arch, and then you spend the next three days limping around Vegas in pain until you decide you should probably make sure you haven't broken any bones.Then you find out that it doesn't matter if you haven't broken any bones because the doctor is going to require that you wear the boot anyway. So you hobble around school all day, where EVERYONE asks what happened, and all you have to say is, "I walked too long in my flip-flops." What is the moral of the story? When you come back from Vegas and then have to wear a boot for two weeks, the idea that "What happens inVegas stays in Vegas" no longer applies to you.

Is it just me, or do I look like I am getting ready to do a strip tease in this picture? I guess Vegas impacted me more than I thought.

Viva Las Vegas!

2009-04-06T17:02:00.001-07:00

How do you begin a blog about Vegas? Perhaps I should set the scene. Please note: Both Alissa and I were "Vegas Virgins" before this trip, so our virginity probably shaped what we saw. :)

Imagine this...smoke-filled casinos FULL of people no matter what time of day it is; 2-foot tall margaritas literally strapped around people's necks; "porn" cards strewn about the streets and shoved into your hands by hundreds of porn card pushers; Michael Jackson and Elvis impersonators greeting you as you walk by; hoochie mamas wearing teeny-tiny clothes while men walk behind them to snap their pictures; and magnificent hotels with ginormous fountains that spew out enough water that could probably hydrate hundreds of third-world villages. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am indeed implying that Vegas is the most bizarre place I have ever visited, and for a people-watcher like me, it is also a place that is absolutely fascinating. I would venture to say that any city that highlights everything that is wrong about human beings - greed, lust, vanity, drunkeness beyond all recoginition - is indeed fascinating.

Alissa and I headed to the good ol' Sin City this past weekend to attend a friend of mine's wedding. While we did not strap margaritas to our necks, we still managed to keep ourselves quite entertained. We walked the strip for hours, we rode a very scary roller coaster, we attended a very fun wedding, we ate AMAZING food, we gambled away (between the two of us) $15, and we watched Cirque du Soleil's "Love" and the Blue Man Group. In short, we had a blast, which only reiterates for me how much I love, adore, and appreciate my Alissa.

In the end, we both lost our Vegas virginity with dignity and class, and while we both left saying we would probably never go back, it was worth the ride while it lasted.

Bonita is HITCHED!!!

2009-04-01T19:08:00.001-07:00

My Bonita Flanagita is officially married, and I, for one, could not be happier. Bonnie and I met six years ago while we were both long-term subs at the high school. I was immediately initimidated by her natural rapport with students and her extroverted personality that drew EVERYONE to her. She will tell you that she thought I was an uptight sqaure. Thus began our beautiful friendship.

In the past six years we have shed many a tear and laughed many a laugh together. We have also broken up twice, but found we couldn't live without each other and immediately got back together. Yes, Bonnie and I are an old married couple. The truth is, we adore each other and my Bonita has truly become my long lost twin. We finish each other's sentences, we have our own language, and we currently share a duplex. She is the peas to my carrots, so when she cries, I cry, and when she rejoices, I rejoice.

And on Tuesday, baby, we REJOICED (which did involve a little crying)! You see on Tuesday, my Bonita Flanagita married the man she has been waiting for - the man who brings out the very best of who she fundamentally is - and Trevor and I watched with pure, unadulterated JOY. Adam truly is who I would have picked for my friend, as he loves her and her daughter not just in his words, but also in his actions, and for this very reason, Adam is now one of my favorite people in this world.

Here is Bonita getting ready for the day...

...while Abby starts the party. The apple does NOT fall far from the tree.

Here is one of the most delicious wedding cakes I have ever had...

...and here are my friends tying the big, fat knot.

I love you, Bonita, and I cannot express in words how happy it makes me to know you have found your happily ever after. Congratulations, mi amiga!!!

"The cat bit my toe!"

2009-03-17T07:44:00.000-07:00

I can't seem to convince my husband that the cad did NOT bite his toe during his sleep. Here's the thing - when Trevor woke up yesterday morning to let the dogs out, both cats were outside, patiently waiting by the back door to be let inside. Nonetheless, Trevor sincerely believes that one of the cats bit his toe in the middle of the night, and he believes he has the bitemark to prove it. Let me replay our conversation last night for you...

Trevor: The cat bit my toe last night.

Sara: Trevor, that's impossible. Both of the cats were outside last night.

Trevor: No, the cat bit my toe. I swear, the cats were in bed with you when you went to bed.

Sara: Trevor, are you implying that one of us woke up in the middle of the night and let the cats outside, and yet neither one of us remembers doing that?

Trevor: I don't know.

Sara: Baby, the cat didn't bite your toe. There were no cats in our bed last night.

Trevor: The cat bit my toe! I have the bitemark to prove it! (Trevor pulls off his sock and points to a red bump on his large toe.)

Sara: (Looks closely at the red bump...) Sweetheart, that's a bug bite. The cat did not bite your toe.

Trevor: The cat bit my toe.

So, despite all of the evidence, my cat (and I am pretty sure he is blaming Olive) bit Trevor's toe. Just comes to show you that when you need for someting to be true, it becomes true. But I will have the last word on this one...The freakin' cat did NOT bite your toe!

Surprise!!!

2009-03-09T20:05:00.000-07:00

Somebody ticked off God today. Take a look at the size of this hail...This picture doesn't do it justice, but believe me when I tell you, it was FREAKIN' BIG!!!

The skies opened up as I was driving home from work today, and I must say, I was a bit caught off guard. As I pulled onto my street, the kids who live across the street from us were outside trying to catch the hail using their baggy sweatshirts as hail catchers. I, on the other hand, opened my mouth to try and catch some. I wonder how many calories that was???

But the surprises didn't stop there. When I opened our front door and walked inside, look what I found waiting for me:

A bouquet of tulips, a pack of Big Red, and a love note! And the best part is, Trevor did this JUST BECAUSE!!! Unbelievable!

I love good surprises!

What would my "Last Lecture" be?

2009-03-05T18:59:00.001-08:00

It's time to get real with myself. I have been in a funk lately, and I can't seem to snap out of it. If I'm really honest, I've been throwing myself a Pity Party and in order to ensure that I remain the guest of honor, I have refused to send all of those annoying party guests (i.e. really bad thoughts) back home.

Up until today, I thought I had some real problems. You know, "problems" like a double-chin and a fatty belly. "Problems" like a close friend consciously choosing to cut me out of her life."Problems" like the inability to convince a coworker that I am not less valuable than him just because I've put in less years of teaching. "Problems" like seeing a picture of a former student on the front page of the local newspaper for dealing drugs and feeling like I could have done so much more for him. "Problems" like desperately trying to get pregnant, only to be disappointed time and time again, and worst of all, not being able to convince myself that it's not my fault.

And then today I finished reading Randy Pausch's novel "The Last Lecture," and I realized I don't have real problems. In fact, my only real problem is my attitude, and my attitude needs a swift kick in the ass.

Randy Pausch passed away last year from pancreatic cancer, leaving behind his wife and three small children. Randy - a computer science professor - had several months to prepare for his inevitable death and was most distraught over the fact that his oldest child would remember very little about him while his two youngest children would remember nothing. And so Randy was faced with a dilemna - HOW do I leave behind for my children WHAT I want them most to remember about me after I am gone. Enter in, literally, his last lecture (which was videotaped for his children) at Carnegie Mellon University, and which has been turned into a national best-selling novel.

I now find myself pondering, what would my last lecture be if I knew I had only months to live. In short, here are the top five lessons I have learned in my life that I would want those I love to remember me by:

#1 - Dogs may be a man's best friend, but cats are a woman's. They just get IT, man! Don't tell me what to do, just feed me, pet me, let me sleeep, and tell me I'm pretty. Done.

#2 - Love doesn't come waltzing in on a white horse. It doesn't ask you to leave your life behind, or to sacrifice bits of your soul, and it sure as hell doesn't make you feel like you've just been saved. Real love saunters in slowly, subtly, and humbly. Real love demands only one thing - be you, ALL of you.

#3 - Sometimes you think you really know someone, and then one day you discover you really don't. These people are part of the universe's grand plan to teach you something you need to know about yourself in order to survive the rest of your life. Love these people while you have them, and when they're gone, say "Thank you." Thank you for making me better, and thank you for going away.

#4 - On the flipside, sometimes you think you really know someone, and then you find out that you really do. These people are also part of the universe's grand plan to give you EXACTLY what you need - validation. (i.e. Thank you Trevor, mom, Lisa, Mark, Ana, David, Dianna, Melanie, Tony, Alissa, Bonnie, Katy, Megan, Chris, Erica, Angela, Des, Bethany, Luke, Clutch, and I know I am forgetting people but my mind has drawn a blank...)

#5 - Ice cream makes everything better. Got dumped? Eat ice cream. Got screwed? Eat ice cream. Got stabbed in the back? Eat ice cream. Got laid off from work? Eat ice cream. Feeling fat? Well then, eat ice cream. I highly recommend a cookie dough/peanut butter cup Blizzard or a hot fudge sundae made with chocolate chip mint and peanut butter chocolate ice cream - extra whip cream, lots of nuts, but hold the cherry.

Thank you, Randy Pausch, for the swift kick in the ass.

The Pity Party is over, and I have you to thank for it.

Good times in P-Town!

2009-03-01T18:37:00.000-08:00

There are some friends in life that no matter how long it has been since you last saw them, you literally just pick up right where you left off. With Bethany, it has always been this way. This picture, taken this past weekend, proves it. And no, I don't know what we're doing.

Bethany and I met in '97 when we lived in the same residence hall together - she was an R.A. and I was a wannabe R.A., and thus my admiration of her began. You see, Bethany has always been the kind of woman I wish I could be more like. In other words, she kicks ass at pretty much everything she does. She is a Doctorate-toting, picture-taking, motorcyle riding, sky diving, snow boarding, surfing triathelete who never lets fear dictate her life. Most importantly, she is probably the most optimistic person I know, and often self-elects herself to be other people's personal cheerleader. In short, I love her, and with that being said, being able to spend this last weekend made me realize how much I miss her. We ate, we drank, we skiied (some better than others), and we laughed our asses off.

Here we are on the way up to Mt. Hood...

Here is the mountain in all its glory...

And here Trevor and I are, moments after I fell TWICE down the moutain, and moments before I decided that maybe strapping two pieces of wood to the bottom of my feet and flinging myself down a mountain going 40 mph just may not be my cup of tea.

Thank you, Bethany, for the fantastic weekend and for always being one of my personal cheerleaders. I love you and miss you already.

Puck Ewe!

2009-02-22T16:05:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I forget that I haven't known Tony and Melanie my entire life. We have shared our childhood stories so effortlessly, that I often feel like I was there when they rode the bus to school, when Melanie and Andria started showing sheep, and of course when Tony and Melanie fell in love. I just feel like I have been there the whole time, which is why yesterday - when Trevor and I got to go to The Maxwell's for the first time - everything came full circle. It's amazing how seeing and experiencing where your best friends grew up can make you understand why you love them so much. I got to hold a baby lamb and listen as its mother called for it to come back. I got to watch Tony and Melanie help Papa Ike milk a mama sheep and then tube feed its babies. I got to flip through a scrapbook of family photos while drinking a delicious cup of hot chocolate. It was wonderful, and I, for one, am going back to get myself a baby sheep.

We ended our evening by going to the hockey game with Alissa and Kelsey. Between the beer and the Huck-A-Puck, a good time was had by all. Who knew that men on skates could inspire such enthusiasm?

Meet Ugly.

2009-02-05T18:28:00.000-08:00

And no, I am not introducing myself this time. I actually mean, "Meet Ugly," this guy:

Let me tell you a little story. Once upon a time, in a land not too far away, there lived a pudgy little girl, whose brown hair was in the process of becoming a mullet, and whose number one goal in life was to own as many stuffed animals as possible. You see, these stuffed animals were very important as they acted as this little girl's students during hours and hours of playing school. So, when this little girl was given the dog you see above for her 9th birthday by her mother - who deeply understood this girl's plight to educate those stuffed minds - she embraced the dog, showed it to all of her adoring friends, and proudly named it Ugly.

Fast-forward to 15 years later. The pudgy little girl had blossomed into a Goddess Of All That Is Aesthetically Pleasing Woman (i.e. no mullet), who now had REAL students all of her very own and no longer needed the dozens of stuffed toys that defined her childhood. It was then that Ugly was sent away to the land of Used-Up Toys, and this woman never gave it a second thought.

And then 7 more years passed and this happened...on Monday night, Trevor and I met up with Des and her girls at D.Q. to celebrate my 31st birthday. Des is my oldest friend, and by oldest I don't mean she is 81. I mean we have been friends since Ms. Wintzcak's 3rd grade class. She called me Pork Chop and I called her Steak. No, I'm not joking. We also spent hours playing "Life" so we could name our numerous children, we spent many a summer day swimming at the pool, we always played on the same basketball team ('cause her dad always picked me), and we spent hours chasing after geese on her parents' farm. We also spent our sophomore year not speaking to each other, for reasons I can no longer remember, and we spent our senior year sharing a locker. But the most important part of this story is that Des was at my 9th birthday party, and Des remembered Ugly.

So guess what Des showed up with on Monday night? Ugly! Freakin' Ugly! Des found Ugly in a bag of stuffed toys brought to her place of work, and Des grabbed Ugly and said to herself, "This is Sara's toy, and I am returning it to its rightful owner." When little Camryn held up Ugly and said "Here," I screamed at the top of my lungs, "Uuuuggggggggllllllllyyyyyyyy!!!" I had no idea my love for Ugly ran so deep, but Des did, and so here is the moral of this story: When you have a friend who has literally witnessed every part of your life since you were 8-years-old, you need to hold onto that friend for dear life because sometimes, this friend knows what you need - and what you miss - even before you do.

Thank you, Des, for bringing Ugly home. And thank you for loving me, for supporting me, and mostly for just KNOWING me, then and now. You are my Desert Flea, and I love thee. :)

And now, 'Apio Verde' to me!!!

2009-01-30T15:34:00.000-08:00

Let me explain what happens when you have decided you really don't want to celebrate your birthday (and yes, I am modeling this blog after Melanie's own birthday blog):

#1 - Nobody listens to you, which means that not celebrating your birthday is no longer a viable option. To prove this point, continue reading.
#2 - Your in-laws take you to a fantastic dinner of Greek food and give you a beautiful tote bag and a gift card to Barnes and Noble, which is essentially like giving crack to a crack addict.
#3 - Your mom writes you an email reminiscing about the day you were born, which she ends by saying "Lucky ME."
#4 - Your BFF shows up in your classroom with a cup of your favorite Chai, a beautiful daffodil plant, and the coolest birthday balloon I have ever seen.
#5 - You get phone calls, messages, text messages, and Facebook/MySpace comments ALL DAY from your favorite people in the world (i.e. mom, Lisa, David, Dianna, Tiffany, Gavin, Bonnie, Alissa, Megan, Chris, Bethany, Farouk, Brandon, Katy, Ryan, Des and the girls...I know I am missing people and THAT fact is unbelievably humbling and overwhelming).
#6 - One of your students shows up in the morning with another birthday balloon and a gift bag full of candy, lotions, bath gels, a gift card to Starbucks, and a note that says, "Don't feel sad about turning older. Feel happy because it just means you're moving closer to getting everything you want out of life."
#7 - Another student shows up after school and presents you with a birthday cake that looks a little something like this:

I know, I know. My beauty is really overwhelming.

#8 - And then you walk out to your van to go home, and you find this:

The morale of this story is this - when you say you don't want to celebrate your birthday, those who you love the most remind you why you have sooooo many reasons to celebrate yet another year. Funny how that happens. :)

"Apio Verde" to Yooooouuuuuuu!

2009-01-21T19:05:00.001-08:00

Today is my best friend's birthday, and in honor of her birth on this day 32 years ago, I have written this poem:

Oh, how the last decade has flown by

Since we met in that dorm room

Oh so very high up

In that crimson Pullman sky

I was so unsure about Tony

And then I met you and said,

Inside of my little round head,

"I love her! She is no phony!"

And so our friendship began

And many memories were made

Like the good ol' Shermer's bus

And sleeping between you and your man

What we didn't know then

Was what the future had in store

For these two Pullman girls

Whose paths were to cross again

Somehow and someway

Our dinners turned from simple chit-chat

To the bearing of souls

And today there is nothing we will not say

You have become more than a friend

You're a sister of sorts

In fact, there really is no word

That captures all you represent

What I do know for sure,

Is when people ask who I admire,

who I love, who I adore

I point at you and say, "Well, her."

"Apio Verde," my friend Melanie

Thank you for loving me and making me shine

But MOST, MOST, MOST of all,

Thank you for making me your family

Today we rejoice...

2009-01-20T15:05:00.000-08:00

...because today marks the beginning of HOPE and CHANGE. I, for one, have never hid my liberal and prgoressive leanings, and neither, for that matter, has Trevor. I do admit that we both have at times been quite vocal about our feelings of disenchantment during the last eight years, and I admit that at times, I do not look at politics through a very objective lense. With that said, it comes as no surprise to those who know both of us that by simply being Democrat, Barack Obama won major points in our household. The thing is, I have voted for other Democrats to be president, and even when he (i.e. my friend Bill Clinton) won the election, I didn't feel THIS. I didn't feel like buying an American flag and hanging it in my front window. I didn't feel like stopping eveything I was doing to watch the inauguration. I didn't feel like, well, like THIS. Today I am reminded of why my grandparents left everything behind in Cuba over 40 years ago. Today I am reminded of what my dad meant when he said, "We left everything in order to be able to think FREELY," and of what my mom means when she says, "We left because we wanted more for YOU" (even though none of her children were even a glimmer in her eye when she left). Let me make it clear that by no means do I think Obama is perfect or without flaws. What I do believe in is the ideals this country was founded on - that anybody from anywhere can be anything he or she wants to be if others - like you and me - offer doors of opportunity, and I believe that Obama represents those ideals better than any other president in history. Today, I am proud to be an American, and today is the first time I have said THAT in years.

Beaches and Brews

2009-01-19T19:14:00.000-08:00

Let me begin by saying that prior to this weekend, I had never been to a Bed and Breakfast before, but now I am pretty sure I want to live at one. Trevor and I headed to the Oregon Coast to celebrate (a week early, mind you) our two-year anniversary of our very first date. The weather was unbelievable - between 60 and 70 everyday - and we literally soaked in the sun for hours on end. We ate incredible food, spent hours walking on the beach and watching the sunset, consumed cheese and ice cream at two different cheese factories, hiked down a cape and back up a cape (yes, I thought I was going to die), hugged a lighthouse, found a sand dollar, and watched movies at our Bed and Breakfast. Of course, Trevor enjoyed many an Oregon beer while I enjoyed feeding seagulls at the beach, much to the chagrin of passers by. What more can you ask for? Watch out all Bed and Breakfasts within driving range...here I come!

To my husband...

2009-01-12T17:01:00.001-08:00

This blog is for my husband, who lets me put headbands in his hair and then take pictures of it. I have spent the last couple of weeks contemplating what I should blog about. Should I reflect on 2008 and all that we learned? Should I make a New Year's Resolution that, in my heart, I know I will not ultimately keep? Should I share with the blogging world how fat I feel and how angry I am that I have to think about it? Maybe I should write about the hell of finishing the first semester at school when it feels as if so many students' graduations are riding on my shoulders. I have even contemplated sharing about the excitement we experienced for the first three weeks we found out we were pregnant, and the grieving that followed when we learned the pregnancy was simply not to be. The thing is, the more I thought and the more I reflected, the more that what I needed to say became clear...this man, the one I call my husband, NEVER ceases to amaze me. When I call myself fat, he tells me to be nice to his wife. When I cry because I can't ever seem to catch up at school or because I just feel like I can't change anything, he actually listens. When I go on my cleaning rampages, he starts vacuuming. When all I want is a Dairy Queen Blizzard, he grabs the keys and off we go. When I ask him if fixing up my mom's kitchen is feasible, he says yes, even though we both know he's starting a new job in only a matter of days. When the doctors tell me that it's now time to let nature take it's course, he sits with me on the couch for hours, never once complaining that "The Real Housewives of Orange County" is my drug of choice. And when I ask him to let me put a headband in his hair, he offers me his head. As we get ready to celebrate the second anniversary of our first date, there is so much to be thankful for, but first and foremost, I am thankful for HIM - for his unwavering love and support, and for making me BETTER. I love you, Trevor Alan Smith, bigger, bigger than all the mountains.

It's done.

2009-01-03T21:22:00.001-08:00

For Christmas this year, Trevor and I wanted to give my mom something we knew she would never give herself, which of course meant that anew pair of Birkenstocks was out of the running. After much contemplation, we decided we wanted to spruce up her kitchen, which has been stuck in the 1950s since she purchased the house almost seven years ago. Our dream became a real possibility when mom decided she was going to spend six days in Vegas with a longtime girlfriend of hers. So, after several trips to Home Depot we made a plan, and after we dropped mom off at the airport last Sunday, we began our grand Christmas surprise. Here are the before pictures...

After six days, four cans of paint, 17 new handles, a few rollers and paint brushes, a couple of sheets of MDF, one sheet of bead board, one sheet of laminate, unbelievable support and help from Tony, Melanie, Aidan and Nadia, and a partridge in a pear tree, here is the final product...

And the best part was when she walked into her new kitchen and switched on her light, I had to tell her to LOOK UP! She cried, I cried, we all cried. There is nothing like a good surprise pulled off! Merry Christmas, mom! We love you!

Two weeks later...

2008-12-27T17:36:00.001-08:00

...and I am FINALLY able to post our pictures of our Christmas Tree expedition. Thank God for having a brother-in-law with an Internet connection that actually works! As you can see, we were up to our hips in snow and Powder - the English herding dog who loves snow more than life itself - could not have been happier. Besides getting stuck in the parking area and having to be towed out backwards by some guy in a Suburban while I steered and Trevor sprinted next to the truck yelling directions - not to forget the poor Suburban guy's who biffed it and almost was run over by me, the steering queen - it was quite a wonderful day. There's nothing like starting your own traditions...and surviving them.

I hate our Internet connection.

2008-12-14T21:30:00.001-08:00

Pretty much I want to take our Internet service, tie it up with some Christmas lights, and dangle it over the Blue Bridge. I have been trying to upload our Christmas Tree adventure pictures since Saturday, and I have not been "allowed" to. I hate our Internet Connection. The end.

This is NOT a joke!

2008-12-03T16:45:00.001-08:00

Out of nowhere last night, Olive the Wonder Cat did yet another wondrous thing...she started watching TV. When I say "watching," I really mean WATCHING. Ironically, what captured her interest was a rousing episode of "The Dog Whisperer." Initially, it was the paper-eating cocker spaniel that caught her fancy, but even good ol' Cesar Millan seemed to tickle her whiskers. Unbelievable! The proof is in the pictures...

I did it!!!

2008-12-02T19:56:00.001-08:00

And $3,000 later I have this fantastic certificate (along with complimentary punch and cookies) to show for it! It was like the Science Fair I never got to participate in, and I couldn't have been more satisfied. The best part was when a very nice man was looking at my display board and quietly said, "Don't tell my wife, but yours is the best one!" Aaahhhh, sweet victory! You can keep the Professional Certificate! I got a free cookie, a free cup of punch, a quality paper certificate with my name spelled correctly, AND the all-time best compliment ever! Yeah for me!

Meet Michael...

2008-11-24T19:53:00.000-08:00

This is Michael. Michael the frog. This is officially the second animal I have brought home from school, except this time the addition to our family is under entirely different circumstances. Those of you who have been in my classroom know that I have a HUGE frog collection on display - stuffed frogs, plastic frogs, glass frogs, wood frogs, pictures of frogs...frogs, frogs, frogs! I have been "threatened" for the last five years by students that they were going to bring me a real frog, to which I always responded, "That is the worst idea I have ever heard in my life." So today, Karina - a student I had for two years in a row but who is no longer in my class - walks into my rooms with her hands hidden behind her back.

I say, "Karina, what is behind your back?"

She says, "Nothing."

I say, "Karina, you're scaring me. What's behind your back?"

She places the baby formula can on my desk, lifts the hole-poked lid, and says, "Look what I got you!"

What came out of my mouth next surprised me the most.

I yell, "I LOVE HIM!!!"

And now Michael - who is named after Michael Phelps the swimmer - is swimming in his new bowl in my dining room.

Funny how the worst ideas actually end up being the best ideas...even funnier how sometimes it takes a teenager to make you realize this. :)

What happens when grandma comes over???

2008-11-19T16:55:00.001-08:00

Take a close look at these pictures and what you'll realize is that when grandma coves over, ANYTHING goes.

The Big 4-0!

2008-11-18T17:51:00.001-08:00

Forty years ago today, my sister came into this world with a bang! Actually, I'm not really sure if there was a bang or not, but I do know that nine years later, when I came into the world, I was welcomed with open arms by her and have pretty much been held there ever since. It's sort of like my sister was a pre-emptive birthday present for me, and I've never stopped appreciating her. Lisa, you have always been more than you ever needed to be. Your unconditional love, your unwavering support, your grace and integrity and strength and perseverance have not been lost on me. I love you more than words can say, and on this day I say HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! May your next 40 (and then the next 40 after that), be as fruitful as the first (Yes, I said fruitful). I love you!!!

The proof is in the pudding...or the display board.

2008-11-15T20:38:00.000-08:00

My entire future lies in the hands of this binder...

...and this display board.

Yes, that's right, my ENTIRE FUTURE!!! It doesn't matter that I have spent the last five years dedicated to "perfecting" my teaching craft by attending workshops and conferences, lesson planning until I can't even see straight, volunteering to chaperone dances, and most importantly of all, genuinely loving my students. No, unless my fabulous display board and binder full of crap can prove I am indeed capable of doing my job, I may not get my professional teaching certificate and I may be back to my high school days of flipping burgers and pouring ice cream at the local Dairy Queen. Sometimes I wonder about the ways of the world, but all in all, I am feeling pretty confident that on Monday, all will be approved and I will be done with this process. I just have to say, if my display board isn't given some sort of ribbon for at least participating, I am filing a complaint.

If only we had met in the 50s...

2008-10-29T17:35:00.001-07:00

...then we probably would have looked a little something like this! I can just picture us now...I would be walking down the halls of my high school, my books held close to my chest (so as not to reveal my bodacious ta-tas), and my poodle skirt swinging around my ankles. And there Trevor would be, waiting for me at my locker, his letterman jacket slung over his shoulder and his hair slicked back with pomade. Ahhhhhh...I can see us now! Don't you think we totally would have been named Homecoming King and Queen?

So, all you have to do is go to www.yearbookyourself.com, upload a picture of yourself, and have at it. It is a guaranteed half-hour of laughing so loud you will probably come way too close to peeing your pants. And then, of course, you'll stare at your picture for way too long because you look so much like your mother - or as in Trevor's case, so much like your grandfather - that you simply can't stop looking. Unbelievable...and way too much fun!

Some pictures should never be made public...

2008-10-23T20:26:00.000-07:00

...but then again, who am I to make that decision? So, here it is, the picture that should have remained hidden inside the depths of our computer:

Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh...memories! We headed over to Pullman last weekend to visit my dad as well as a few friends, and to watch the Cougs get spanked by USC. What a spanking it was. It actually ended up being the biggest spanking the Cougs have ever received in their entire football history, and we, of course, were there to witness it. As we were walking to the stadium, we were approached by a couple of "Coach of the Year" representatives who handed us each a rally rag and then snapped this picture. I must say, Pullman in the fall makes my heart sing, and while Trevor is not technically a Coug, at least he married one. Go Cougs!!!!

Halloween Preparations

2008-10-04T21:33:00.001-07:00

We just laughed our asses off.

Here is why...

God help our future children.

Fall Festivities...

2008-10-01T16:29:00.000-07:00

I don't know where September has gone. With the start of the school year, life has seemed like a blur. It's been a good blur, but a blur nonetheless. Here are some of our highlights...

We were able to enjoy the annual Sausage Fest, which we look forward to every year. Along with my mom, Tony, Melanie and the kids, we ate way too much food and then partook in a riveting round of kid games. Our suckers from the Lollipop Tree were truly enjoyed.

We then were visited by Nate and Maya, who came all the way from Saint John, Virgin Islands to visit family and friends in the Northwest. Because we qualify as friends, we were lucky enough to be included in their grand tour. We enjoyed showing them around a couple of our local wineries.
Then it was off to Seattle, where I got to spend some fantastic cuddle time with Wyatt. I love him.
We also were able to catch one of Ana's soccer games, and let me just say for the record, it is quite apparent she has inherited the athletic genes. You know, the genes that decided to skip over me. She scored four goals and knocked down every five-year-old in sight. We were definitely a proud aunt and uncle.
And, of course, we celebrated her 6th birthday. 6!!!! Unbelievable! It seems like only yesterday...
So there you have it...September in a nut shell. It's no wonder fall is always my favorite time of year.

Happy Birthday, Mom!!!

2008-09-01T11:22:00.000-07:00

Today Delia Consuelo Piquero Gonzalez turns 62, and in so doing accomplishes a number of things. For example, as Trevor pointed out this morning - as only Trevor could do - she is no longer a prime number. Or, as my mother herself has been pointing out for the last month, in turning 62 she now has met the qualifications to retire AND collect Social Security. I, for one, think one of her most amazing accomplishments thus far is her uncanny ability to look, at most, 50. It is my mother's 62-year-long story, however, that earns her the most kudos. You see, my mother is the strongest person I know. From coming to this country at 15 without her parents to raising her three children virtually by herself, my mother is the epitome of a survivor. So, mom, here's to you! You have lived your life with integrity, with grace, and with one hell of a sense of humor. You are my hero and my best friend. Happy, happy, happy birthday to you! I love you bigger, bigger than all the mountains!

Bring 'em on!!!

2008-08-27T19:36:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow the alarm will go off at 6:15 a.m., marking the start of another school year. I have spent the last few days trying to get my classroom in working order, and this is my proof...

Exhibit A: My bulletin board outside of my classroom...

Exhibit B: Desks arranged in clusters, posters up, and supplies ready...

Exhibit C: The comfy corner established, class syllabi copied and ready for distribution...

Most importantly, though, I am ready. I LOVE the first day of school - the energy, the excitement, the hope - it always reminds me why I chose this profession. So bring 'em on! Mrs. Gonzalez Smith is ready!

The tooth has left the building...

2008-08-26T17:54:00.000-07:00

... and I am not quite sure what to do with myself. Yes, I realize that Ana, at an almost whopping 6-years-old, still has 20-some teeth left to go, but still, one is now officially gone and we all know what that means... my niece - my baby - is not really a baby anymore. I suppose I should have figured this out a few months ago. Trust me, there have been LOTS of clues. Like when over dinner, before the wedding, she asked me very seriously if Trevor and I were in love. Or when she read "Hop on Pop" to me all by herself. And of course there was the time a couple of weeks ago when she noted that one of the gymnasts on the U.S. Olympic men's gymnast team was "cute." Yet, somehow, someway, it is this picture my sister sent me that has thrust me into the reality of it all - Ana Banana of the Deep Blue Sea is growing up, whether I like it or not, and she has a gaping hole in her mouth to prove it. I can do this, I really can. After all, I wouldn't change one single second of all the major "Ana changes" over the last six years. From the walking to the talking, from the singing to the dancing, and from the arrival of teeth to the loss of teeth, not much else in life has brought me as much joy as being able to witness all of these milestones in my niece's life. So, here's to the next six years, and the next six years after that, and the next six years after that, and well, you get the point... may ALL of the next years be as fun and as full of laughter as the first six have been.

Our new nephew!!!

2008-08-24T19:23:00.000-07:00

This is Wyatt Franklin Smith, the newest addition to our extended family, and we are sooooooo excited! He came into this world on August 22, stretching 21 inches and weighing 8 pounds and 11 ounces. Needless to say, I think Tiffany and Gavin - but especially Tiffany :) - were extremely relieved to have him out here, in the "real world." I, for one, couldn't have been more pleased that Mr. Wyatt chose to make his grand entrance before school starts AND on a weekend so that we could actually make the trip over the mountains to meet him. Yes, he has earned MAJOR brownie points with me and given me even more reason to spoil him endlessly.

So, Trevor, the new grandma Cheryl, and I hopped in the car yesterday morning to meet the not-so-little man and of course, immediately fell in love. He is beautiful and very vocal, which I can appreciate. One should never underestimate the importance of communication, and let me tell you, Wyatt is a communicator... only when he has reason to be, which makes him even that much more perfect. As you can tell, Uncle Trevor is already quite smitten.

So welcome, Wyatt, to the world. We look forward to watching you become YOU and we promise to be executive members of your personal fan club. We love you tons!!!

Goodbye Grandpa...

2008-08-12T19:13:00.000-07:00

Today grandpa passed away, and while we all knew it was coming, it certainly doesn't make it any easier to swallow. He lived his 86 1/2 years to the very fullest, the vast majority of which he spent with his wife. We are just so thankful to have been able to spend Thanksgiving with him and even more thankful he was able to make it to the wedding. He wanted to make it to the wedding so badly, and as he sat in dialysis an hour before the ceremony was expected to begin, a thunderstorm - punctuated with a down pour of hail - graced us with its presence. And this time, I am not being sarcastic. If it hadn't stormed, we would not have had to move all of the chairs and equipment inside. We would wouldn't have begun 40 minutes late, and subsequently, grandpa would have missed the ceremony. Yes, the storm truly did grace us with its presence as it allowed grandpa to watch us get married from the very front row - inside, of course. :) As we were taking this very picture after the ceremony, grandpa looked at Trevor, patted his shoulder and said, "This is my very best friend." We will remember his resilience, his wit, his fiestyness, his passion for life, his love for his wife, and of course, his bright blue eyes. Thank you, grandpa, for gracing us with your presence. We love you and already miss you.

Our Grecian Honeymoon!

2008-07-22T15:23:00.000-07:00

Because a picture can speak a thousand words, we will let our honeymoon pictures speak for themselves...

We did it!!!

2008-06-30T12:49:00.001-07:00

And what a day it was! My sister had told me that we would not have the wedding we planned, but we would have the wedding we would have, simple as that. I had no idea how true this would be. Despite the confusion over the gazebo, despite the thunder storm with rain and hail, the day could not have been more perfect. Our friends and family were incredible. In fact, they were the ones who made the day happen, from setting up to tearing down. Trevor and I have never felt more loved in our lives and furthermore, never knew we could love each other more than we did the day before. But we did and we do and we are incredibly excited for our future together. The wedding was truly just the beginning - I love this man and he loves this woman, and we are ready to take on the world, one day at a time.

He's here to stay!!!

2008-06-15T22:59:00.000-07:00

Yes, you heard me right! Moo the cow dog has moved in permanently. Some may say this was 100% predictable, but I tried not to love him, I really did. Sure that lasted for about 10 minutes, but it was a valiant effort. And as you can tell from the picture of my boys, Trevor doesn't seem too upset about it. Moo, welcome to the family!

Moo Cow, Don't Bother Me!

2008-06-11T21:36:00.000-07:00

Look what I found roaming the halls of my high school yesterday. No, I'm not joking. I am not sure what came over me, but somehow he ended up in my classroom and somehow Trevor came to pick him up and somehow he is presently sleeping in our living room. Let me introduce you to Moo, the cow dog. I am pretty sure he is half cocker spaniel, half cow, so Moo it is.

Have I mentioned all that I have to do in the next week and a half? You know, like finishing the school year, grading a million finals, attending some English department trainings, and oh, yes, GOING TO MY OWN WEDDING!!! With that said, I am pretty sure this is the absolute most inopportune time for, how shall I put it...a freakin' lost puppy! While we wait for any takers on our newspaper ad, Moo has made himself at home by chewing on Powder's ears, barking at the kittens, and of course, pooping underneath our bed. And to make it even more complicated, I think we kind of love him. God help us all.

Stop and smell the roses

2008-06-09T20:34:00.000-07:00

We grew these in our very own front yard. Before I take too much credit, let me make it very clear that we had absolutely nothing to do with it. The rose bush was here when Trevor bought the place. Furthermore, we have literally done nothing to aid in its growth, besides an occassional pruning. And yet, the roses are amazingly beautiful both in sight and smell. They greet me every morning as I pull out of the driveway to go to work and every afternoon as I pull into the driveway to come home. Perhaps some of life's most beautiful offerings have little to do with what we can do, but rather have much to do with simply what already is.

The Sunset Suite, Dairy Queen, Italian Food, and Karaoke...

2008-06-02T20:12:00.000-07:00

...put it all together and what do you get??? Only the BEST bachelorette party EVER!!!

I have literally been sitting here typing sentences in an attempt to express what I enjoyed most and I keep erasing them because I truly don't know how to put into words what it meant to me to have all these women who mean the absolute world to me, celebrating of all things, ME. It truly is overwhelming to feel that loved and that adored and that supported by the women who have been my best friends in some cases, since birth. My mom, my sister, my niece, my Melanie, my Bonnie, my Natalie, my Alissa and my Katy all joined forces to treat me to a hotel suite with a double-shower head (we'll leave it at that), a trip to good ol' D.Q. for afternoon Blizzards, an amazing feast of the best eggplant parmesan I have ever had in my life, and late night karaoke which consisted of a lovely duet of "La Bamba" performed by the Cuban sisters. We laughed, we ate, and we sang. I am not sure there is much else anyone can ask for. Thank you, my friends, for an evening to remember. I love you all dearly.

What a weekend it was!

2008-05-28T20:19:00.000-07:00

This is Trevor in a zoot suit.

This is me rock climbing.

Any questions?

One month to go...

2008-05-21T21:30:00.000-07:00

... and we will be married!!! This whole time June 21 has seemed so far away, and now it is literally just around the corner. Our living room is packed with vases for center pieces and our spare bedroom is full of tissue paper and ribbon and gifts and much, much more. It is now clear how easy it would be to get wrapped up in all this "stuff" and forget what this celebration is all about - US. So let the day go as it may and let the stuff be stuff. In one month we begin our life as a family and we are soooooo excited we could pee our pants. :) Yeeeeahhhhhhh us!!!

Happy Mother's Day!!!!

2008-05-09T21:25:00.000-07:00

This is a preemptive celebration of our mothers. Mother's Day may be on Sunday, but it's Friday night and I feel like celebrating NOW! So here I am and there they are...there's Cheryl, my future mother-in-law on the left, and Delia, my very own madre. Sometimes it feels like Mother's Day simply doesn't cut it. After all, how do you say thank you to women who literally carried you for nine months and then after hours of grueling pain, pushed you into the world? Then, after that, they look at this little thing placed in their arms and fall immediately in love. And then of course there's all the other stuff, you know, like years and years of unconditional giving and support and love. No, Mother's Day just doesn't seem to cut it. It is a day to say thank you, however, and this is my thank you. Thank you, Cheryl, for sharing your son with me. He truly is the most amazing man I have EVER met and the apple does not fall far from the tree. Thank you for welcoming me into your family and for your unwavering generosity. I am looking forward to all the years to come. Thank you, mom, for being my best friend, my confidante, and my number one cheerleader. I know I have not always been easy, but you have never given up on me, and for that I will forever be grateful. You are truly my hero and I only hope I can be the mother and the friend you have been to my own children. Happy Mother's Day, Cheryl and Mom! I love you both!