I don't want to roam...

I want to go home. It doesn't mean I'm not going to be using my luggage anymore. Just that it's time to settle at long last. And that all efforts from this point on will be geared towards leaving the past behind and focussing on where I want my life to go. In that spirit: this is my last post here... and it comes at just the right time, courtesy of a beloved friend and a Fabulous new « acquisition ». Since there's always a soundtrack playing in her head, I thought I'd select a tune from the jukebox for her... this seemed perfect. My dear friend Turnbaby is finally home, and I'm not talking about the new abode. I know she is truly cherished and loved, at last. I couldn't wish a better present for her than that. Revel in the little things, giggle, be silly and christen every room if you haven't already! Babe... Happy Birthday (tomorrow)! Happy New Beginnings (now)! I love you (forever). Thank you for stepping in (in hot, hot shoes) when I needed you. Thank you for reminding me that a miserable but dutiful me isn't a good daughter or mommy. Thank you for giving me those damn fine gropes. And to the man who is man enough to make her so damn skippy happy: welcome to the family. I'm available for shoe tutorials *wink and giggle*. So my friends and dear readers, If you chose to follow me, you are welcome (whether you comment or not). There will still be hugs, smooches and gropes and I'll still love you more than my luggage.

time flies...

Ten years ago today, during a snowstorm, a pink, naked, dark haired, blue-eyed, sweet baby girl was laid on my breast. I finally got to say hello to the being that had taken over my body. The being whose feet would poke out and give my basketball-sized belly odd shapes. Soft music was playing (she still listens to this every night) and time stood still. That day, I realized just how much a parent loves a child, I knew the deepest love. In those first few days, I'd lay in bed, gazing at her for hours... wondering what the world would hold for her, my sunshine. I find myself still gazing at her, usually in awe. She's an amazing person. Her kindness touches me. Her infectious smile warms my very soul. Her questions test my patience and my knowledge of the world (thank GOD for the internet)... and her observations about the world humble me. Fast forward to today and I'm faced with a mini version of me (my parents' revenge). She's a great traveller, a music afficionado, a budding scientist... and a very cool chick indeed. We're embarking on quite the journey after the first 10 years... I've got my shots, my passport and I guess we'll see where this next decade takes us. It promises to be quite the ride. Bonne fête mon trésor! Je t'aime de TOUT mon coeur! Love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes.

For Roger!

Today is my darling blogging buddy Roger's birthday and I promised him cake... Roger is one of the sweetest bloggers around, he's got a wickedly funny sense of humour and look how adorable he is with his birthday crown on... Love ya babe! So grab some confetti, streamers and a sparkler and go over and pay him a visit, tell him Anndi sent you with a piece of cake! Love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes (mostly all for Roger ;p)!

Happy birthday Mom

Today is my mother's birthday. It's the first one we celebrate without her. My mother was a giving person, she worked for Franciscan monks and managed their affairs for about 30 years. During that time she worked with them in their charitable endeavours. I remember spending time in the kitchen at the monastery with Mom and brother Rene who was tireless in his efforts to feed the poor in our town. Around the holidays, they would gather donations from local supermarkets and citizens and we would make Christmas packages for as many families as we could. There was a lot... but we always could have used more. I learned a great deal from Mom and brother Rene... hopefully I'll pass it on to my Chicklet. This year, as I did last year and for the past few years, the small Christmas gift my company gave all employees will be used to buy a complete Christmas dinner for a family in need and a few other supplies. As much as I need the extra cash, my pantry is full... and so is my heart. So, in memory of my mother and brother Rene I ask that you give. All it'll cost is a few minutes on Freerice. If you can afford to, think about your local food banks, drop off a new toy or a book for a needy child, spread Christmas spirit... smile at the people you meet. Je t'aime Maman... Merci pour tout. Love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

OOPS...

Not sure if I’m allowed to do this, which makes it even more irresistible… Happy Birthday to “someone” who doesn’t have birthdays… You know who you are… Disclaimer: The normal author of this blog is in no way responsible for this post. She would never do such a thing… Love you all more than my luggage! Especially you Birthday Boy! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

Happy Birthday Daddy!

I'm Daddy's girl.. I've said this before... Dancing on Daddy's Big Feet The music is soft, And the music is sweet - twirling and dancing on Daddy's big feet. I slip off my shoes and step up onto his. When his feet turn us around, nothing's better than this. My arm stretches up high as can be To reach for his shoulder - his arm reaches 'round me. And the music is soft, the music is sweet - twirling and dancing on Daddy's big feet. His slippery black shoes shined by my stocking feet glide us 'cross the room on the music's safe beat. He tells me someday another boy will come to hold me this way then his job will be done. But life is never as secure and the music as sweet - waltzin' 'cross the room on Daddy's big feet. ©2005 Judi Moreillon Please scroll down for today's post.. Love you all more than my luggage (but not more than my Daddy!) Hugs, smooches and gropes!

I think I'm here.. Manic Monday - yellow edition

Well, it’s official… I no longer have a little girl. Morgen.. hope you don't mind sharing! LOL My child has morphed into the mythical mysterious creature that is …. **cue sinister music **(or boy band music.. just as sinister.. even scarier… like, say Boyzone for instance… very scary) … a ‘tween’… Lord help me! If you actually sat throught the whole video... I apologize... Bwahahahahahaha! Oh Travis.. dude! Yesterday, I sat on the loveseat in my ex-mother-in-law’s living room, watching as my daughter The Chicklet coddled her younger cousins at her 9th birthday party. She’s growing up. I still remember the day I brought her home from the hospital and took her into her bedroom for the very first time. Not that she actually slept there in the beginning… but that’s another story. Because we hadn’t wanted to know if the baby was a boy or a girl… wait, I feel the need to correct that statement… I wanted to know that it WAS either a boy or a girl.. just not which specifically of the two! Alright, I can go on now. Where was I? Ah yes… Because we hadn’t wanted to know the sex of the little invader that had taken up residence in my stomach, seemed keen on using my bladder for a Yoga Ball, felt the inner décor would be greatly improved if my rib was way up there instead, and had taken over my taste buds (Italian sausage had become my mortal enemy and green apples made me salivate), we (not the royal mommy married we), my ex and I, had decorated the nursery with a lot of yellow. It was a bright and cheerful room, with a lovely old fashioned wood rocking chair and the greatest invention since the clapper.. a deluxe diaper genie! Nothing equals the stench of a breast-fed baby’s yellow poopy diaper… the diaper genie was my new best friend! And now, as she is 9 years old and I’ve managed to put off redecorating her room other than buying new furniture and bedding, I will.. with great sadness.. be forced to remove the white and yellow striped wallpaper and paint her room in a tween approved hue of some form of girlie pastel (most likely blush or lavender) before the official teen years and she wants her room painted black or dark blue or red…. Ok.. it really has nothing to do with any sentimentality… I hate the thought of tackling that damned wall paper… the walls are PLASTER!! Do you have any idea what a pain it is to remove wall paper from plaster? With two crazy dogs hanging around and trying to steal the wall paper as you peel it off? It’s enough to make you want to pack up and move… I’m fortunate. I have a healthy, vibrant (yellow is vibrant) child who still loves to cuddle and actually actively seeks out hugs and kisses. She and I are both healthy. And, I get along very well with my ex and my former in-laws. When a child is involved, it feels like you become inextricably linked to the people who have, in some way, contributed to the history and genetic makeup of your child. Not everyone is this fortunate though... and I'm well aware of that. My ex mother-in-law knew that I couldn’t bear to throw a celebration for my daughter’s birthday this year at the house… so she organized one as only a grandmother can. That woman has been in my life somehow for close to twenty years and knows the pain of losing a mother. Next week my daughter gets to spend some time with her, and it brings me some peace to know she still has a grandmother she can be close to. I’ve been remiss in my blogging in the past week. I’ve had a terrible time at work- an employee’s career possibly resting in my hands. That coupled with the knowledge that my daughter would celebrate her first birthday without Mom... both these facts were weighing heavily on my heart. By the grace of God and the support of a two very special people, I’m back to myself again. Yup.. you’re in for it now folks… Love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

Happy Birthday Morgen.. Manic Monday Minions Celebrate!

Welcome one and all to Morgen’s around the world birthday celebration EXTRAVAGANZA! I thought long and hard.. what to do for the fearless leader of the crazy manic minions he has been inspired. Plus, let’s face it any excuse to haul out the new and improved snazzy luggage.. and I’m a happy girl! It was an extensive trip and I apologize for being so late but you try and cover so many countries is so little time.. I mean.. I must have lost the greatest part of my time explaining to Customs officials all around the world who this Morgen is and why he’s dressed like a pharaoh (the gold lame is FAHBULOUS DAHLING!) So.. I got my luggage, my passport, my world map, a picture of Morgen, Fodor’s guide to the universe and a nice hat ( I decided against the pith helmet, it didn’t match my shoes). Our trip begins in New Zealand, where after the birthday candles are lit, everyone gathers and sings the Happy Birthday song loudly and usually out of tune (look, I’ve only been there once it is NOT my fault! I hear Matt’s the one responsible). Once the singing is mercifully over, the birthday person then receives a clap on the back for every year they’ve been alive and of course one more for luck. 41 claps… hmmmm… This might take a while, but thankfully you have enough friends to go round Mo. Kia huritau ki a koe! (in Maori) I head off to the home of the BentoBoxx…Japan.. (um.. Morgen? A Samurai?) Otanjou-bi Omedetou Gozaimasu! Happy Birthday in Japanese... or so I'm told... actually it's that or your mother sat on a walrus... Well, but of course, tradition says one must wear new clothes one one’s birthday! Ok..well, I know it applies mainly to kids, but Mo.. you are young at heart! ( An excuse to shop.. WOOOOHOOO!.. and who says new clothes says new shoes!) I'm not sold on the parasol... We head off to Russia… Ok.. I have an issue here.. PIE? See, it seems the Russians don’t have a birthday cake.. it’s a PIE!! With wishes carved on the crust! Knowing that this won’t do because Mo loves cake, I promptly grab a case of vodka and head off to my next destination… Pazdravliayu s dniom razhdjenia! - again.. I think that's right.. but.. cabbie looked drunk... I was secretly hoping Mikhail Barishnikov would be on the flight.. but alas… Bello! Welcome to Italy… Buon Compleanno! Ah yes… now, as I was busy roaming the piazzas I encountered a lovely darling man who was so very helpful and offered to squire me around on his vespa… through my um.. adventures… I managed to do some research, and I found out that on their birthday, an Italian child’s ears are pulled (no this is not code for.. um.. never mind) I was saying, a child’s ears are pulled as many times as how old they are turning. Ok.. I admit it.. this picture has nothing to do with Italy.. but seriously.. Mo.. who cares! I'll give you a moment to reflect... *sigh* Right... so.... where to next? We hop on a river cruise... and cross the sea.. taking a trip to the Nile to visit Egypt (you didn't think I would forget to take you cruising in Egypt did you?) In Egypt people invite many friends and family to their birthday parties, and will often serve two birthday cakes (makes up for the stupid Russian pie tradition!). One cake has candles while the other one doesn't. A great deal of food is served such as cookies, sesame breads... Eid milaad saeed! (In Arabic, I'm not even joking about this one...... nope.. nosiree!) Homes are decorated with paper garlands called zeena that look like chains of snowflakes. These are hung all around the house. (Hung? Hey what just walked out of the water?) We board a flight across the Atlantic down towards South America for a stop in Peru where guests at a birthday party often receive two kinds of party favors. The first favor is a goody box or bag and the second is a pin made in honor of the event. And there are almost always fancy paper hats (how attractive!). You sir, receive a crown! Feliz Cumpleaños! And we take you back to North America.. where all your friends are gathered to wish you... HAPPY 40TH BIRTHDAY MORGEN! Love you more than my New and Improved Luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes! Thanks Vince