My Rockstar

Oh my little Rockstar he is!!!

You'll find his FAVORITE song below...it's pretty much our morning ritual - 1) Load Rockstar up on the computer; 2) Make ABSOLUTELY SURE that the "visualizations" are on the monitor; 3) Turn the volume up LOUD; 4) Remove ALL clothes (thankfully, only Logan does this); 5) Grab a microphone (a handful of pens, golf club, brush, whatever's available); 6) ROCK OUT!!!; 7) Repeat steps 1, 2, 3, & 6; 8) Repeat steps 1, 2, 3, & 6; 9) Repeat steps 1, 2, 3, & 6.

Rock Star
Artist: Nickelback

I'm through with standing in line to clubs I'll never get in
It's like the bottom of the ninth and I'm never gonna win
This life hasn't turned out quite the way I want it to be
(Tell me what you want)

I want a brand new house on an episode of Cribs
And a bathroom I can play baseball in
And a king size tub big enough for ten plus me
(Yeah, so what you need)

I'll need a credit card that's got no limit
And a big black jet with a bedroom in it
Gonna join the mile high club at thirty-seven thousand feet
(Been there done that)

I want a new tour bus full of old guitars
My own star on Hollywood Boulevard
Somewhere between Cher and James Dean is fine for me
(So how you gonna do it?)

I'm gonna trade this life for fortune and fame
I'd even cut my hair and change my name

'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars
And live in hilltop houses driving fifteen cars
The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap
We'll all stay skinny cause we just won't eat
And we'll hang out in the coolest bars
In the VIP with the movie stars
Every good gold digger's gonna wind up there
Every Playboy bunny with her bleached blonde hair
and well..
Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar
Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar

I wanna be great like Elvis without the tassels
Hire eight body guards that love to beat up assholes
Sign a couple autographs so I can eat my meals for free
(I'll have the quesadilla... ha ha)

I'm gonna dress my ass with the latest fashion
Get a front door key to the Playboy mansion
Gonna date a centerfold that loves to blow my money for me
(So how you gonna do it?)

I'm gonna trade this life for fortune and fame
I'd even cut my hair and change my name

'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars
And live in hilltop houses driving fifteen cars
The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap
We'll all stay skinny cause we just won't eat
And we'll hang out in the coolest bars
In the VIP with the movie stars
Every good gold digger's gonna wind up there
Every Playboy bunny with her bleached blonde hair
And we'll hide out in the private rooms
With the latest dictionary in today's who's who
They'll get you anything with that evil smile
Everybody's got a drug dealer on speed dial
well..
Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar

I'm gonna sing those songs
that offend the censors
Gonna pop my pills
from a Pez dispenser
Get washed-up singers writing all my songs
Lip sync 'em every night so I don't get 'em wrong

Well we all just wanna be big rockstars
And live in hilltop houses driving fifteen cars
The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap
We'll all stay skinny cause we just won't eat
And we'll hang out in the coolest bars
In the VIP with the movie stars
Every good gold digger's gonna wind up there
Every Playboy bunny with her bleached blonde hair
And we'll hide out in the private rooms
With the latest dictionary in today's who's who
They'll get you anything with that evil smile
Everybody's got a drug dealer on speed dial well..
Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar
Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar

My Little Boy

No amount of gold could ever compare,
to the gift of love that my son shares.
I've been blind and I couldn't see,
that all the love I'd wanted is right in front of me.
He gives reason to get through another day,
Maybe it's how he loves me in his special little way.
And when it gets hard for me to sleep at night,
He wraps his little arms around me and says,
God will make things right!
From sweet gentle touches to his bear hugs and a kiss,
He makes the journey on earth seem like a peaceful bliss.
That great big kool-aid smile and the twinkle in his eye,
Every time I look at him it makes me want to cry.
But they're not tears of sorrow,
they're tears of pride and joy,
To know all the love in Heaven,
is wrapped around my little boy.

© Sabrina A. Hernandez

I just can't seem to get used to the fact that my precious little boy must be "shared." Every other weekend, when it is time to kiss him goodbye and send him off to his father's, my heart just aches. I feel alone and lost, as if part of my own flesh has been ripped from me. What were my days filled with pre-Logan? How did I spend my time? What did I do with all the long hours?

Logically, I fully understand that Logan needs to have time with his father - time to form a relationship and a bond that can only be shared between fathers and sons. I know that his father gives him things that only a father can - things that mothers just don't quite "get." But each time my heart thinks about the 48-hours spent without my angel, the logic flies out the window.

I miss him...TERRIBLY! I miss his hugs, I miss his kisses. I miss the way he "pets" my hair when he's tired. I miss the pitter-patter of his Fred Flintstone feet as he searches for me in the morning. I miss his I love you's. I miss snuggling with him at night. I miss him...TERRIBLY!

And so, today, just like every other Friday, I kiss him goodbye and say to him, "I love you to the stars!" I slowly walk away, tears in my eyes, and I don't look back.

I can't wait til Sunday!

Cleaning Out Closets...Literally!

I have never derived such joy from cleaning out closets as I did today. I started with Logan's as it was time to prune out the summer clothes and bring in the fall. I always become very sentimental when cleaning his things out. It just signifies that my little baby is growing up - and much, much too fast at that. I suppose that hanging on to his "baby things" will keep a part of that memory alive. The memories, however, are kept safe in my heart. The "baby things" only contribute to cluttering his closet. Sooo...on with the pruning.

Next, since I was on a roll, I decided to move on to my closets. NOT something I really wanted to tackle but hey, might as well. My closets are always disasters as I tend to hold on to things "just in case"...just in case I get fat, just in case I get skinny, just in case they're in style again. The agenda for today was to get rid of the "just in case" clothes. Just in case they're in style again - ummmmm, not a chance. And if they do become in style again, that's one style I'm NOT going to revisit. Just in case I get fat - not on your life!!! Holding on to my "fat" clothes only suggests that there is a possibility that it could one day happen again. No way, not, never!!! Not even going to allow myself the tiniest of openings for that to happen. And, the best part by far, just in case I get skinny. Just in case I get skinny...uh huh - DIDN'T HAVE TO GET RID OF THEM THIS TIME!!! My "skinny" clothes were actually keepers this time. One by one I plucked out the "fat" clothes, examining each piece before depositing into a heap on the floor.

It really only occurred to me today just what 24 pounds is...it isn't just a number on the scale or clothes that are two sizes smaller. It's self-confidence, self-esteem, and self-worth. It is a reminder that I can do anything I set my mind to.

And oh the irony of cleaning out closets...a little boy getting bigger, growing up, learning, and discovering so much about his world. And a mommy getting smaller, growing up, learning, and discovering so much about her world.

Tantrums & Tattoos

Tan·trum
Pronunciation: \ˈtan-trəm\
Function: noun
Etymology: origin unknown
Date: 1714
:a fit of bad temper

Bad Temper
Function: noun
:a persisting angry mood

To say that my precious little muffinhead has been in a "persistent angry mood" thus eliciting "tantrums" sounds so, well...clinical. I think the more appropriate definition would be:

"Creature of apparent human species measuring approximately 30 pounds in weight and 36 inches in height. Outside appearance is almost angelic yet very misleading. May instantaneously, and without provocation, sprout horns from the cranium and a forked tail from the gluteus maximus. Take every precaution necessary to avoid hurling insults and flying spit. Full body armor may be indicated to avoid sudden and uncontrollable movements from said creature's arms, legs, and head. Hot Wheels traveling at the rate of 35 mph from across creature's domain may, and will, occur on a usual basis. Creature will also engage his opponent in biting, scratching, pinching, and hair pulling. Loud, persisting, high-pitched, gutteral noises are also a tactic used by said creature to break down and eventually destroy his enemy."

Yep...that about sums it up around my house these days. Lil pumpkin has just been such a joy the past few weeks. Yet through all the insults, spit, fists in the face, kicks in the shins, Hot Wheels to the head, and clumps of missing hair, I consider myself so very blessed for I know just how much my son really loves me...after all, "You always hurt the ones you love most!"

And on a much lighter note...in all the chaos of this thing called my life, little man came into my office and announced to me, with such pride and excitement in his voice, "Look Mommy...I have new tattoos!"

09-11-01....09-11-08

Imagine there's no heaven, it's easy if you try,
No hell below us, above us only sky,
Imagine all the people, living for today.
Imagine there's no countries, it isn't hard to do,
Nothing to kill or die for, and no religion too,
Imagine all the people, living life in peace.
You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one,
I hope someday you'll join us, and the world will be as one.
Imagine no possessions, I wonder if you can,
No need for greed or hunger, a brotherhood of man,
Imagine all the people, sharing all the world.
You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one,
I hope someday you'll join us, and the world will live as one.

~ John LennonSeptember 11, 2001

It is approximately 6:10 a.m. when I am awakened by the irritating, incessant ring of my telephone. Who could possibly be calling at such an early hour? What could be so important that it can't wait until a reasonable hour? Still half asleep, I put an end to the irritating ringing and in the most pleasant voice I can muster, I politely answer, "Hello."

"Tia, this is mom. Wake up. Something happened. We're being attacked. The World Trade Centers have been hit by airplanes. Get up and turn on the news."
I got out of bed and immediately turned the news on. Instant fear filled my entire being. What is happening? How could this happen? Who did this? Why? Who's next? And when?

The lives of 301,139,947 Americans would forever be changed, some more proufoundly than others and in ways they never imagined possible. How, as a nation, could we ever find the strength to make it through the darkness?

September 11, 2008

As I visit the many memorials, tributes, and web sites created to commemorate the lives of those lost on that fateful day seven years ago...as I read about the individuals who risked their lives to save another only to lose theirs in the end...as I view pictures of the children left without a father, a mother, or both...my heart still aches. People who started their day like any other - work, school, shopping, a walk around the park, a cross-country trip to Los Angeles or San Francisco - with the thought not even entering their mind that it would be the last time they would ever see their family again.

Today, seven years later, I hold my breath at the sound of an airplane high above and ask myself, What has happened? How could this have happened? Who did this? Why? Who's next? And when?

To all those lost on that fateful day, to all the heroes who so selfishly gave the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty, and to those still fighting for our safety, security and freedom, I send to you my respect, my thoughts, and my prayers.

Angels Among Us ~ Angel's Gate

After seeing this amazing story on Oprah, I knew I had to do something to help. I hope each of you will be as moved as I was.

I have included, in this post, a link to Angel's Gate website, as well as a link to make donations. You can also find this to the right in my sidebar.

Angel's Gate is a residential facility for special needs animals. Here, animals, many of whom are terminally ill, critically injured and/or physically challenged, come to live out their days in peace, dignity, and love. Many of the animals require physical therapy, medical attention, and nursing care. They may have cancer, liver or kidney disease, paralyses, blindness, deafness, diabetes, neurological or seizure disorders, orthopedic, or geriatric problems. There are currently 200 individuals of many species living at the home. These include dogs, cats, parrots, ponies, ducks, swans, pigeons, geese, chickens, and rabbits. The animals are a part of the Angel's Gate household. Most are free to roam the home and/or the spacious back yard. Dogs and cats are not crated. Only the parrots are caged. The water fowl, chickens, and pigeons are penned at night for their protection. There is never a fee when adopting an animal with special needs. Angel's Gate depends solely on supporter contributions which are received from all over the United States. They even have supporters from as far away as Canada, France, Germany, the Netherlands, Africa, and Japan.


Priscilla is a victim of "Shaken Puppy Syndrome." Barely surviving terrible abuse, she was taken to a vet and eventually to Angel's Gate. She is mostly unable to walk without assistance but has a commanding presence among her peers.

Sheila was turned in to be euthanized. A four-year-old Boston Terrier mix, she was born with deformed front legs. She walks on her hind legs when necessary but prefers to be held.

Please click on the banner below to be redirected to Angel's Gate website.

Conversations #1

What makes me happy? Simply put...my son. His ear-to-ear smile. His infectious laughter. His quirky silliness. His big brown eyes that look at me as if I'm the greatest thing in the world. His tiny kisses lavished on every part of my face. The whispered "I love You, Mommy" each morning. His inquisitive, curious mind. His pure heart, and his innocent soul. He is truly what brings me the greatest joy!!!



Dawn said...
What makes me happy is when I don't step in dog shit first thing in the morning.

Tracy said...
What makes me happy? You have to remember I am a very warped human . . .

1. Bryce & Emma, my tiny babies
2. New family members . . . Marley Grace
3. Chocolate
4. Dr. Pepper
5. Seeing that totally snotty dude at our office (who thinks he is all that) trip in the parking lot on the way in . . . Oh, I am still laughing!

I Am Willing

I am Willing
© Margaret Dubay Mikus

I am willing to change what doesn't work for me in my life.
I am willing to listen with an open heart, without judging.
I am willing to plant seeds that take a long time, if ever, to grow.
I am willing to feel and let go.
I am willing to make mistakes and learn from them.
I am willing to live in the present.
I am willing to forgive and forget in my heart.
I am willing to love as much as my endless spirit will allow.
I am willing to be seen in all my radiance.
I am willing to be fearless.

I am willing to be powerful.
I am willing to be peaceful.
I am willing to stand tall. and walk gracefully.
I am willing to sing with my stunning, full voice.
I am willing to allow. I am willing to let go.
I am willing to change.
I am willing to see and be seen.
I am willing to hear and be heard.
I am willing to feel and be felt.
I am willing to heal and be healed.
I am willing to love and be loved.

I am willing to change what doesn't work for me in my life.
I am willing to listen with an open heart, without judging.
I am willing to plant seeds that take a long time, if ever, to grow.
I am willing to feel and let go.
I am willing to make mistakes and learn from them.
I am willing to live in the present.
I am willing to forgive and forget in my heart.
I am willing to love as much as my endless spirit will allow.
I am willing to be seen in all my radiance.
I am willing to allow. I am willing to let go..
I am willing to be fully human.

For Logan

Not a day passes that I am not in complete awe and wonder of my son. This little being has taught me such huge lessons. It is through him that I have achieved strength I never dreamed possible, love I never imagined existed, and my soul's quiet peace.

I am inspired by his brave and courageous will, his loving heart, and the stubborn orneriness that drives him to succeed. He is, in his mommy's eyes, simply amazing.

The morning cold and raining,
dark before the dawn did come.
How long in twilight waiting,
longing for the rising sun.

You came like crashing thunder,
breaking through these walls of stone.
You came with wide eyed wonder,
into all this great unknown.

Hush now don't you be afraid,
I promise you I'll always stay,
I'll never be that far away,
I'm right here with you.

You're so amazing you shine like the stars,
You're so amazing the beauty you are,
You came blazing right into my heart,
You're so amazing you are...
You are.

You came from Heaven shining,
breath of God still flows from you.
The beating heart inside me
crumbled at this once I knew.

No matter where or how far you wander
for a thousand years or longer
I will always be there for you
Right here with you.

You're so amazing you shine like the stars,
You're so amazing the beauty you are,
You came blazing right into my heart,
You're so amazing you are...

I hope your tears are few and fast.
I hope your dreams come true and last.
I hope you find love that goes on and on and on.
I hope you wish on every star.
I hope you never fall too far.
I hope this world can see how wonderful you are.

You're so amazing you shine like the stars,
You're so amazing the beauty you are,
You came blazing right into my heart,
You're so amazing...
You are. ~Janelle

Mommy's Brave Boy

As I gaze at my beautiful son sleeping peacefully on the sofa, I am grateful, thankful, and brought to tears. You see, my beautiful son has not slept peacefully in over a week. His precious little body has been wrought with pain and fear. He has been fighting his own war, refusing time and time again to give up, only to find his tiny little feet taking steps backward rather than forward.

Logan became sick with the "flu" on August 13th while on vacation. After 18 hours of throwing up, we thought he was on the mend only to find him once again throwing up the following afternoon. "The tail end of the flu" we assumed and continued to load the car up and return home.

Logan slept reasonably well at home that night and awoke Friday in a chipper, cheerful mood. He was ready to face the world the only way he knew how...head on! Seems the powers that be had other things in mind, however. After wreaking havoc on his upper digestive tract, the virus decided to migrate south and play it's nasty games. Over the next day and a-half, he went through enough diapers to last him a lifetime.

All was well from Saturday evening to Sunday evening. Logan seemed a little tired, but that was to be expected after the battle he had just fought, and, assumingly won. I packed him up in the car for a trip to the grocery store, a trip that was long overdue and not meant to be. As soon as I got him buckled in and sat myself down in the driver's seat, I heard the all-too-familiar wretching followed by the fear-filled cry. "Please God, don't let it be what I think it is" knowing all to well that it was. Once again, the groceries would have to wait.

The process continued in the same pattern as before. Throw up, go to bed, wake up, all is well...I was certain that this time was to be the last. After all, he was eating, drinking, and keeping it down throughout the day. What is it they say about "assuming?" Uh huh, you remember. At 6:15 p.m. on Monday August 18th, I got a call from Papa. Logan had thrown up. I called his pediatrician's office and got him in immediately. After looking Logan over, the doctor informed me that he was mildly dehydrated. Before sending him for IV hydration, he wanted to give Logan the chance to recover on his own since he was only "mildly" dehydrated. Take him home and give him small amounts of Gatorade every 5-10 minutes. If he kept the liquids down, had a good pee-pee overnight, and no vomiting, chances were he was recovering. If he started to vomit again, he would need to be seen at the clinic or, if it was after-hours, at the Emergency Department.

I took my little man home hopeful that he would do fine. He laid down on the sofa at 5:00 p.m. and fell asleep. At 9:00 p.m., the sound of pitter-pattering feet down the hall brought a smile to my face. My precious boy was finally awake. "Well hello my sweet boy" was met with a scene straight from The Exorcist. In my 42 years, I have never seen the amount of vomit I had just witnessed erupting from my son's mouth - over and over. At that moment, I felt a fear that I had never imagined possible. What's wrong with my child? This can't be normal. I called Gippy, cleaned up my son and the mess, and we headed for the Emergency Department. After the standard three-hour wait, a $50 anti-nausea drug placed under the tongue, and half a glass of apple juice, we were sent home with (ta-da) a diagnosis of the flu. I questioned the doctor about hydrating Logan but he said it really wasn't necessary. "He isn't too bad" and "the anti-nausea pill should help" were the only words of advice we were given. Guess what buddy, Mom's not buyin' it!

I called Logan's pediatrician Wednesday morning and an appointment was made. Just as I had suspected, he was now moderately dehydrated and had lost another half pound. His color was ashen and pale, he had dark circles under his eyes, and the veins in his upper eyelids were very apparent. Orders were written for Logan to be admitted to the hospital for IV rehydration, a process that would consist of one bag of normal saline, one bag of dextrose, one bag of sodium, and one bag of potassium, as well as an overnight stay. Throughout the night, Logan's tummy would become distended and hard with no apparent bowel sounds, a sign that the digestive system was not doing what it was supposed to. Watching my little boy grimace in pain and cry what minimal tears he had left, broke my heart. I am his mommy, I am supposed to protect him and keep him from harm and pain. This, however, was not in my control. There was nothing I could do but hold and rock my precious gift.

Logan improved tremendously throughout the night. He was taken off solid food until his tummy settled down and was placed on a BRAT (bananas, rice, applesauce, toast) diet at the time of discharge Thursday afternoon. He has been eating well and keeping it down. He is slowly returning to the Gatorade but is just a little hesitant. He has been asleep for a little over two hours. I find myself once again praying that all-too-familiar prayer, "Please God, let my angel be okay when he wakes up."

I am so proud of my brave little boy. He has been through so much in the last week: doctors, nurses, pokes, prods, needles, and unfamiliar environments. He fought the enemy so hard and, in the end, won a great battle. He is my little hero. And the nasty, unrelenting enemy he was figthing was finally given a name...

ROTAVIRUS