I believe in Santa...

This season has been unusual for me - somehow going on a cruise during Thanksgiving threw things off. The "official" kickoff of the holiday season was spent on a ship somewhere off the coast of Mexico, eating anything BUT turkey (that's a good thing...) Coming back was a rush of things to do, laundry to wash, school projects to complete, and work to be done.

Now it's Christmas Eve, and I'm trying to figure out how it all passed me by. The most wonderful time of the year, other than my birthday, hasn't quite measured up... and maybe it's been up to me to just let it in. Just soak it in - the lights, the welcomed chill of winter in this usually warm state, the rain that cleanses all and, beyond the gray, makes things brighter and more intense.

I found myself wrapping presents in the rush that is the days leading up to Christmas, and planning a menu, and wondering what Mass we'd attend, and what the girls would wear, and whether or not we'd be able to drive to the mountains on the 25th as planned with the forecast calling for snow showers. And somewhere through it all came the voice of my scroogey brother - "You lie to your children! The whole idea of Santa Claus is a lie!" He's a Grinch!

And through it all, I found Santa once again. Beyond the reason for the season and the celebration of the birth of Christ, despite having missed most of the Advent Masses, the spirit is back!

Yes, I believe in Santa Claus. I track him down through NORAD with my girls, so they too may believe, although in a different way, through children's eyes. I believe in Santa, not because he'll bring me presents, not because I'll tell the story to my girls, not because of the songs we'll sing through the season. I believe in Santa because of what he represents, at least to me. In this season of commercial insanity, Santa still represents the season of hope, the possibility of magic, and the ability of wishes to come true.

I believe in Santa because I believe in hope.

A couple of thoughts...

I have spent the last few days in the beautiful city of San Francisco at the annual CASE District VII conference. Too bad that most of the time was spent in the hotel, because I do love San Francisco. But let's get to the point of this blog.

These past couple of days I have gotten to know people I work with, to whom I am grateful for the things they've shared with me. One shared the struggle of starting a family after all treatments are done and adoption is the only option. The other the struggle of life and seeing her partner of many years lose her vision a little at a time, with no option for slowing the process.

I am grateful for the trust, but also grateful for the realizations that came from that. Realizations we all have somewhere in our hearts, but that became even more clear:

1. We all are meant to have a miracle in our lives, even though that
   miracle may not come in the form we always dreamed of or expected.
2. Sometimes, it's ok to be reckless and a bit irresponsible (within reason!), if that means giving those you love the memories of a lifetime to carry them through the darkness of the years to come.

That's it. Nothing too profound I suppose, but some thoughts that have occupied my mind today.

When hearts are breaking

I often wonder why bad things happen to good people... I suppose bad things happen to bad people too, but perhaps their hearts are so hard they don't get beaten to the ground by it. 

When your friends and loved ones are down and hurting, and you know the pain is almost unbearable, what do you say? What do you do? How do you help? I sit here wishing for a magic wand that would take away the tears, while knowing that the tears need to flow for true healing to begin. 

I have spent the last several years away from people who have known me forever - these are the people who hold the pieces of who I was before I came here to become who I am today. And I have wished so many times to be there for the happy times - the weddings, the births, the celebrations. Today I sit here wishing I could be there most of all for the sad times to lend a shoulder, to hold a friend in need. 

Life's lessons come wrapped in tears and pain. And yet, we have faith in the future. I guess one of the biggest lessons we learn is that this too shall pass, and down the road we will remember the tears, but we will have grown from the experience and found our way again. 

When the day is dark and the road ahead of us seems to stop, there is still tomorrow. And day by day, we learn to go through life until we find the motivation to live again. 

To my friends - I am with you even though I am here. I have faith in life, and I have faith in you. 

Today is the day...

I'm sitting here typing instead of making the bed, putting the dishes away, and figuring out what to do with (or to) my hair... the significance of the moment requires that I type, even if eloquence might elude me this early.

Today is the day... the day Lindsay Renee Rebholz was born, after much expectation, to two beautiful people - my dearest friends Bob and Janice. He is a quick-witted guy who loves to debate and argue, so we get along famously. She is the purest soul I've ever known, and destined to be a wonderful mother.

But more significant yet, today is the day... the day when America will change yet again. Today will be defined by historic moments - just as this year's presidential campaign has been defined by historic milestones between Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, and Sarah Palin (love her or hate her, she is still defining a moment).

Today is the day when we either will elect the first black President (sorry, I don't go with the PC crap and definitions...), or the first woman vice-president (and yeah, she'd be elected by running on the ticket, not by her own effectiveness as a VP candidate).

Today is the day... the day when Californians might amend their constitution to redefine marriage and inadvertently cast a vote to make a fundamental distinction among citizens, effectively creating two tiers - first and second class.

Today is the day that will mark a shift in America's perceptions, prejudices, and hopefully, just hopefully, bring another significant wave of change to a country founded by people who wanted change, equality and liberty for all.

In favor or against - know the facts on Prop. 8

Lately most of the discussion on the propositions up for vote in the November ballot in California has centered on Prop 8 - a yes would amend the California constitution to redefine marriage as a union between a man and a woman only, a no would leave things the way they are.

Supporters and opposition are out there giving us all arguments why we should or should not support this proposition. Very few people are doing their homework.

Morris Thurston, of the Mormon church, wrote a very enlightening document rebutting what supporters of 8 see as the six consequences of prop 8 failing. I'm not Mormon, I'm Catholic - practicing and believing. And Morris Thurston, while he offers a rebuttal, doesn't offer or neglect support of the proposition. 

His point and mine - in this blog - is: whether you support it or not, understand the facts, research the issue, and make a decision based on that and your own beliefs/moral code. Don't just follow the herd in blind acceptance of "consequences" that do not apply to the issue. To understand what I mean, please read this document. Very well written, by the way.

In her own words... (cont.)

During the morning ride to the daycare...

"Daddy, let's go to Costco!"
"Why do you want to go to Costco?"
"Because they have food there."

A few pet peeves...

1. "Please rsvp"... drives me up the wall and back! Rsvp is the acronym for the French phrase "please respond", therefore, an additional "please" is redundant - and, imho, in poor taste.

2. People who think your time is theirs and won't even bother consulting with you to see if you have time for them and their petty tasks... umph!

3. Bad use of fashion - where should I start??? If you're built like a barrel, avoid the form-fitting top and the low-rise jeans. It really is disgusting. If you're cold in the morning, wearing hot-pink leg warmers with your flip flops should just be illegal! Etc., etc., etc. If you don't have an eye for style, as evidenced by your choices, arm yourself with at least one good, honest friend who'll tell you when you look like crap.

4. People who equate Muslims with terrorists... hello!! There are more similarities between the Koran and the Bible than there are differences. And really, the most fundamental difference is: our "dude" is Jesus, theirs is Mohamed (but they do believe in Jesus as a prophet, and in Mary as an important figure). This brought back to light with the current electoral process and one of the candidates running for president - and by the by, my husband was born in the Muslim faith and was raised as such for the better part of his childhood. He's a convert Catholic, and frankly, it's not an issue at all. 

There are more, but I'll bore you senseless... and I'm done ranting for now.

You know it's Fall in So Cal...

...when you feel the bite in the wind, the nights get cooler, even though the days continue to be blistering hot. Then, before you know it, the leaves have turned, and the Santa Ana winds have come to blow them all away. The air is dry, which is great for your hair (if you're a woman), and really bad for your nose.

If you're lucky, all the winds have blown is the leaves, and the trees are still rooted. If you're lucky, you didn't forget the umbrella outside and your patio furniture is still intact. 

But you really know Fall has arrived in So Cal, when the Santa Anas not only blow the leaves off the trees, but the embers on one, two, or three fires that threaten to burn out of control. 

When the job gets to you...

Think your job stinks??

Think again.

Ladies Lounge

On my last visit to Nordstrom, my friend and I stopped by the little girls room, and something caught my eye. For the ladies, Nordstrom has a "lounge", for the men, a "restroom".

Hmmm... funny how an extra room with a nice couch, pillows and a couple of frames can make us feel special. Great for breastfeeding moms, by the way...

I guess we ladies deserve a lounge. After all, we still get paid only, what, about $.80 per dollar as compared to a man? Just another one of life's idiosyncrasies...

Embracing "me"...

Or, embracing my "hot-headedness". I've decided it's time I do. For years I have known about it (big duh, I know...) A few years ago, I actually got nicknamed the "hothead". And in case you care or wonder, yes, I do fight it and try to suppress it. But it's like a valve. You can try to stop the steam from coming out, but eventually it will!

So, in addition to fighting it, I have come to the conclusion that it's best to embrace it. Hello world! I am Lara, and I am a hothead. 

Moreover, I think I could start a little club where hotheads are welcome, admired, and praised. And while we are at it, maybe we will have a bit of a behavioral chat to see how we can best maximize the power of the hothead and start turning the inevitable perception: hothead=trouble-maker. 

I totally admire the people who can keep a poker face and a shut mouth. I, for the most part, am incapable of both of those at the same time. Some times I manage to keep my mouth shut, but I can guarantee you the steam will come out from my ears, thus defeating any effort at looking collected, and barely making it as "contained". 

I am a passionate person. As such, I share my ideas passionately. Probably something to do with the Latin blood that runs through my veins... Passionately sharing things is not always a plus, especially if you live in California, where everything has to be sugar-coated for general consumption. Thus, the reputation of the hothead is born, enhanced, and kept very much alive.

On the other hand, I hate lies, and some days I just hate politics. (No, I don't work for the government, but after several years in the higher-education environment, I feel pretty certain I could navigate governmental politics quite successfully). And I hate the fact that people walk into a room, stare at the huge white elephant in the center of it, and manage somehow to ignore it. If there is a problem, let's face it and solve it!!

And that is where the hothead (or at least this one) is cruelly misunderstood: we're not here to stir trouble, but we very much will point it out in order to solve it. And we don't want to sugar-coat, because it's a waste of time, energy, and effort, and a lot more saliva than I like to use in a matter-of-fact conversation. 

Finally, I much rather be a hothead for life, than turn into a bobble-head - you know, those people who sit in the first couple of rows to suck up to the dictator they have for a boss, and who nod incessantly with every lie, every false promise, every creative interpretation of the facts. 

Ugh... I confess

Yup. I've been skirting the issue. I've been dodging the bullet. I've been happily ignoring the situation. I've been in denial bliss. And I've been complaining of lack of content for this blog. Now I must confess.

After years and years of handling cameras, taking pictures, learning about exposure, composition, development, printing, mounting, zone system (my favorite), etc., being trusted with cameras - anything from 35 mm to large format (4X5 dreams)... After all these years, I did manage to make the biggest rookie mistake and ended up sending what my friend Sherry calls my "bad-ass camera" flying to land, lens first, on concrete. 

Ugh. Mental slap, kick, and punch. Internal crying. Lots of modulated breathing and controlling the emotions so that the brain could work. 

Happy to report the only thing broken was my UV filter, although the lens did get dented, so the camera and lens are out for diagnostics and repairs. I'm "cameraless", but not for long.

And a BIG, BIG, BIG kudos to my darling husband, who spent the money on (what I always viewed as useless) insurance for the "bad-ass" camera - not so useless, was it?

The New Voyeurism...

I finally got a Facebook account, after a few invitations from my friends. Then I decided to populate my page, since what's the point of having an empty account. Then I started adding friends... and then I got addicted. 

Good addicted? Bad addicted? That depends. On the good side, I am finding so many people I haven't heard from since I can't remember when. And I am looking for people from my past that I hadn't even thought about finding at this point in my life! Which, I have to admit, is pretty cool...

That said, I've started to wonder if this symbiosis I seem to have found is an exercise in futility. There's the side that makes me post a picture on my page, link flickr for my "friends" to see, post my blog on an RSS feed, and even get a superhuman ability as a "hero" (OK, that one is a lot of fun, and I bet it'll get better when I really learn how to use it). On the other side, there's that part of me that stops by my "friends" sites and looks into their worlds. Pictures, walls, comments, friends, applications, little quirks. 

So what's my point? Here it goes: are we really keeping in touch with each other? Or are we just comfortably keeping tabs on each other without further commitment? Gone are the days when we picked up the phone to see what was going on. Now we just log in and find out for ourselves. In some cases, we'll actually send an email, and in others we'll go as far as chatting online. But for the most part we spend our time "peeking" into the lives of those we know with their authorization. We are the voyeurs looking into the lives of others, and we indulge our need for attention, exhibitionist inclination, or whatever you identify with, for the benefit of those others. 

So granted, this is all with permission. And that's my point! "I'll show you mine, if you show me yours" because it's far more convenient than keeping up an actual relationship. And while we are at it, we maintain the illusion that this is building on our friendships. But is that the case? Or are we just building on a list of "friends" to have a concrete count that assures us we are not, in fact, missing the human element in our relationships?

Probably a bit of both. And I stop sounding critical, because after all this is just a thought, and I do happen to enjoy this Facebook thing. In fact, I'm having a great time finding people, reconnecting with some, and peeking into the lives of others. The peeping-tom of the 21st century. 

In her words...

"Daddy, tomorrow I want to go eat out."

Note: she's 2 years and 9 months.

Some days it sucks to be a mom...

...like today, when I would've rather had my baby (Larissa, almost six) rip out my heart from my chest and step all over it. Instead she freaked out after I dropped her off at soccer camp, and run after me crying "mami, mami!"* not wanting to let me go. Gulp, sigh, and sniff.

Guilt is a powerful emotion. The need to hold her and cuddle her and keep her with me for the rest of her life even more so. And as her mom, the knowledge that it's better for her if I don't, the one that makes everything just suck. Ugh.


*for the non-Spanish speakers, the translation would be "mommy, mommy!"

Beware of the 5%!!!

Also known as "other duties as assigned" - that last line on most job descriptions, the 5% truly is a trap created by employers to make sure that: (1) they can change your job description at will without increasing your salary (heaven forbid!), and (2) you take on any duty whatsoever that can in any way, shape or form be associated with your current job description.

Case in point here: my friend and office neighbor Kristin, who for the purposes of this blog shall also be known as "Events Queen", was in charge of an event at work yesterday. Her job description has no custodial duties attached to it, and her title doesn't even get close to them - neither do mine. However, at the end of the day (a very, very, very long day), she and I found ourselves cleaning the patio off stepped-on crackers, grapes and cheese. Gross. But necessary. And yes, I did take some pictures for material and because I liked the light, but trust me, I also got my hands dirty (and wet).

So, beware of the 5%... and from this day on, if you drop a grape, a cracker or some cheese on the floor, for heaven's sake pick it up yourself!

Shell shocked!

I have to step aside from my usual entries just to do a little pat on the back... I just got two entries into the photography contest at the OC Fair!! I figured what the hell, I'll just send them and see. I mean, I like them, but it's so nice to know that others liked them too - enough to allow them into the exhibit hall!

As James Brown liked to sing... OW!!! I feel good...

Ever wonder...

...who the people are who write in those descriptions for movies on TV? Sometimes when I'm channel surfing and wondering what to watch, I read those descriptions and use them as a guide.

Granted, they're not much of a guide at all. I think nobody would ever watch TV if they based the decision on those descriptions. Try it! Read them and think about them. They don't work but for the simplest of movies, or the worst ones (they could actually make those appealing!)

I'm waiting to run into "Gone With the Wind" and see what is written. I bet it will be something like "Woman loses house in fire during Civil War." Margaret Mitchell would weep from her grave.

Just rambling... again...

I'm so emotional right now... (yes, it-is-that-time-of-the-month...) Too many things are going on in my life, and every time I think I was able to somewhat deal with one, there comes another!

So, to make a long story short, here's this blog's bottom line: Katarina is moving up to her next classroom. Yeah, big deal, I know... The thing is, as she moves from one classroom to another, I am confronting two realities: one is her inevitable growth, as she leaves behind everything that makes me think she's still a baby (except for the diapers, that will never happen...); the other one is the fact that, since she's my last baby, we are leaving this classroom behind as well.

Katarina is in the same developmental daycare where Larissa was before going to school. The Irvine Child Development Center (ICDC) has been the place we've trusted all this time. Each classroom has been special, but the one Katarina is about to leave is my favorite. Here is where I've seen the most change in both my girls. Here is where they went from being a babbling toddler, to being intelligible little people. Here is where diapers were replaced by pull-ups and panties (not for Katarina, never...), where likes and dislikes became more evident, were little friendships blossomed, where temper tantrums flourished - and were squashed. As my little one leaves, I get a little pang thinking of the things I've seen, of the things I've cherished, of the things I won't experience again.

So, I'm a little emotional, and as I write, I celebrate this pity party for myself.

Spring in full swing...

"Oh, no!! I got in a fight with the Easter Bunny, and I lost!" (never mind that the Easter Bunny came around a while ago...)

Couldn't help but snap this picture the other day as I was driving off campus. Her outfit was something between sky blue and light turquoise, her belt screamed eighties in cheery yellow, which matched her shoes, and it kind'a looked cute in a she's-so-young-and-damn-skinny way when I saw her walking on campus. Then I saw her on her pink bike, which matched the pink strikes in her hair... and that just got the best of me... fashion 911!! Where's the damn fashion police when you need it?

In her words (cont.)...

"Daddy, are those your hearing aids?"
"Yes..."
"So that you can hear better?"

In her words...

I have decided to add my daughter's entries to this blog. Given that she's only 2 and a half, entirely too smart for my own good, and absolutely funny in her very own way, I find myself needing a record of the things she says that make me wonder what kind of CPU works in her head. So, from now on, you may find yourself staring at one-liners. They'll be under the label "Katarina", and that will be it. To start, here's the background on the first posting of this kind.

Katarina woke up one morning, was brought into bed by Jim, and in a matter of seconds told me, with a very tired, sleepy voice:

"Mommy..."
"Yes, baby?" (that would be me, in my own sleepy voice)
"I think I'm starting to wake up..."

Enough said.

Here's to friendship...

...and to time standing still when it comes to it.

What a surprise I had yesterday! I got a call from some guy with an accent, asking if I was Lara Montero (lo and behold! I had forgotten that name...) Finally my brain started clicking, and I figured I should switch to Spanish, since it was clear this was someone from my Peruvian past. I got thrown off by a slight Chilean accent (huh?), and finally the mystery caller identified himself as Fernando Cossio.

Fernando and I met when I was in the academy preparing for the test at the Medical School at Universidad Peruana Cayetano Heredia in Lima. We were part of a group that spent a lot of time studying, stressing out, and dreaming about the day when we'd finally get into a program that only took 50 people once a year. When we finally made it in, we all became glued. There really is no other way to describe it. We had suffered together, we had dreamed together, and now we were starting together down the road of sweat, blood and tears. Ok, so maybe that's a bit dramatic, but I have to say not too far off.

I left Lima a year and a half later, and while I did keep in touch with a few people, with others who were very close to my heart I lost contact. Fernando was one of them. And now he's managed to track me down while on a plastic surgery rotation in Chicago.

And here comes the point of this blog - yeah... finally. Here's to friendship. The kind that can be put on hold when life takes us on opposite directions. The one that is remembered not as a pretty thing of the past, but as a constant in your present, all with a single phone call. The one that you realize you can continue to count on, even if you have become lousy at keeping up with those close to you.

Here's to friendship, and to my friends. You are the fabric of my life.

Better with age?

Do we get better with age? Or do we just start to figure out what it is about ourselves we really like?

Jim and I were at a work function the other night, and one of his colleagues asked me my age (another woman, who was older, so it's ok). To her, I'm still so young at 37, and she's right if you think about it. We got into a conversation about age, and I realized that, in my late 30s, I'm finally starting to figure out who I really am.

So, am I getting better with age? Does anybody? Or is it just the self-assurance of knowing who we are and what we like about ourselves that makes us better?

I am getting better at holding my temper (not perfect, in case you find yourself rolling your eyes), and at being frank with myself about those things I don't like about me. And I'm getting better about being frank with myself about those things I do like about me. The truth seems to come through clearer vision as I get older, even though my physical vision is starting to feel the effects of age. It's not so much hindsight, as inner sight that gets us to this place.

I am enjoying this stage - as I have each other stage thus far. I can't say I'm enjoying the wrinkles that come with it, but I can say that looking at these wrinkles I can see the parts of my life I need to work on. You see, I want happy wrinkles when I get older, not so much the angry ones. I have a line in between my eyebrows that comes from deep concentration and from frowning in displeasure and anger too much. I can live with a line there, just not a groove, so I need to work on the smiling wrinkles and on minimizing the angry one. And apparently, I have to work on sleeping on my back to minimize my "sleep wrinkle", which comes from too much pillow and a sound sleep.

So maybe we do get better with age, but it's mostly out of self-awareness and self-assurance. There's nothing like a person who's comfortable on her skin. So, my friend, if you haven't gotten there yet, either wait a few more years, or start paying attention.

My Off-Broadway Husband...

...and I don't mean Off-Broadway as in not-on-Broadway, nor as an indication of my husband's preference for Off-Broadway shows. Simply said, my darling would just as well turn Broadway off.

Case in point: our last trip to the theater for a very good rendition of "The Phantom of the Opera", which by the way, still lives on, and does so with glory! If you know me, you know I just LOVE Phantom. I know every line to every song. I own the CDs, I used to listen to it three to four times a day, until I got so depressed I had to stop... I recently even read the book by Gaston Leroux. As I said, I LOVE Phantom. Jim likes it too, very much. To his credit, he likes the CDs, loves the music, and bought the movie (by the way, since we mention this... not crazy about Gerard Butler as the Phantom...)

So, what's the problem, you ask? So far so good... until we get to the points during the show when my husband fell asleep. Yes. A-S-L-E-E-P. Granted, he does relax with classical music... but asleep during Phantom??? Impossible!! No, my friend. Entirely possible, highly probable, and unfortunately true.

I should have known though... I mean, he did fall asleep during "Wicked"... I know... mental head slap. In his defense, it was a particular point in the musical when the music was particularly mellow. He didn't quite get it either, but unlike most of us growing up in the Western world, he missed the whole "Wizard of Oz" thing having been in Iran during his younger years, so can't blame the guy there.

In his defense too, I should say he didn't fall asleep during Chicago (or at least I don't think he did), which was fabulous by the way. In his defense as well, he stayed up for the entire "Aida" show (the Elton John version, not Verdi's...) Of course we were so close to the stage, the production might have come to a screeching halt had he been found sleeping.

I have hopes that he will be able to withstand "A Chorus Line" with me, since there is a considerable amount of dancing and that seems to be key. This will be my last attempt at sharing my love of Broadway shows with my sweetie. Love him as I may, I think I'd rather go with a girlfriend to fully enjoy the range of emotions, music and plot that are so unique to Broadway shows.

So perhaps I won't be able to share this with him, at least not that much, but then he's not able to share with me his love for action-packed, thin-on-plot movies either...

Role reversal

I wonder how, when and why it happens. When I was growing up, my parents cared for me, worried about me, and tried to steer me through the safest path, the one with the least amount of obstacles, the one that hopefully would lead me to a happy and fulfilled life as an adult. Now I find myself doing the same for my children, and oddly enough worrying about it for my parents.

When did I start feeling like I needed to care for them and protect them? When did the frustration start at finding myself unable to make things easier for them and solve their problems? I worry now morning and night about their decisions, their lives, and the potential consequences of their actions. They may have more experience, and they certainly have a very different outlook, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to, in a sense, mother them.

I wrestle with the inability to protect them, and finally find some reassurance in the fact that life really didn't mean for me to take on that role. And I close my eyes and pray that somehow, somewhere, they will find happiness and a way to live the rest of their lives with dignity. And I say "they" because I'd rather not point the finger at the parent that really is making me lose sleep. You know who you are, and I hope you know that, no matter what, I love you.

The hills are alive...

...and the devastation we saw during the October fires has given way to a carpet of green. As I drive down teh 241 Toll Road heading toward Rancho Santa Margarita, I find myself resisting the urge to pull my car over and soak in the view of the hillside.

I know Ireland has the claim to the greenest green, but right now, our hills are intense with it from new growth and rebirth. Here and there you can still catch the charred trees that no longer stand proud in stark contrast with the brilliant colors of Spring. And through it all, wildflowers have found their way once again, adding the beauty of their lavender and bright yellow. Rolling with the hills I also find a profusion of Mustard flowers, and my mind reels with the wonder of nature.

I sigh and wish I could stop the car, get out, and lay down on the green carpet to watch the amazing blue sky. Spring is around the corner, and while there was loss and desolation only a few months ago, now is the time to hold on to hope and life. My heart is filled with the beauty of the simple things around me.

Happy New Year.... happy new bugs!

I think we're on the clear now. We've gone through the western calendar New Year, and now we've turned the page on the Chinese one for good measure. And why does that matter, you ask? Because I refuse to concede that the New Year can start the way mine did, and instead prefer to think that I got a new chance for a better year once the Year of the Rat rolled in.

Let's start at the end of 2007...

It all started when I got itchy feet and decided I would find a way to go to a party for New Year's Eve - even if that meant throwing the party myself. As it turns out, when you have small children, that is the only way to do it. Babysitters are in high demand, and mine happened to have plans (never mind that she is 15 years old... she's got more of a life than I do). So, I contacted a few couples, who all thought it sounded like fun, and then notified my hubby, in that order.

As the night approached, I spent my limited free time dreaming up concoctions, since there is nothing like a party to test your latest recipe and try your hand at a new hors d'oeuvre. I got all my supplies, the hats, the blowers, the serpentine, the champagne glasses, and started buying the food.

Just as we were about to turn the corner on the much expected festivities (at least by me), people started falling like flies with bad colds, bronchitis, etc. In the end, from a potential crowd of 12, we ended up counting with 8, and the night of most of those canceled as well. In light of this experience, I have decided to run a hospital next year, which probably will meet with greater success.

Let's turn the page to 2008...

January came somewhat uneventfully, but I was looking forward to it. We had plans to go to Big Bear for our godson's birthday and spend the weekend there with the Maxwells and the Eros. And after that, we'd be rolling into my birthday season (yeah, season, more accurate). I had gotten tickets for an Argentinian Tango show, with an Argentinian dance company, and I was researching my options for an after-show jazz bar where Jim and I could hide in a corner, have a drink, enjoy some music, and yes, make out. Why not?

So, Big Bear came, and with it disaster. Katarina got sick with a bad cold that generated very high fevers, so she had to stay home most of the next week. As she went back to daycare and I back to work, Jim came down with influenza. He spent four days in bed, flat on his back shivering and miserable, through the long weekend AND into my birthday, when we had planned to go skiing (for free in Big Bear!) My birthday came without the skiing, so I took myself out for ballet class and got a few things done, including baking my own cake (which turned out scrumptious). That night, Larissa and I came down with Katarina's cold and fevers, so Larissa had to stay home from school, and I had to work from home despite the fever. By the end of the week, I was told I had pneumonia (happy freaking birthday to me!!), the day before my show and dreams of a jazz bar. Next Wednesday, Katarina got another cold and was sent home from daycare with yet another fever AND covered in spots.

Need I say more? We've said good-bye to 2007 and its viruses, and we've said good-bye to the year of the Pig with another set of bugs. I'm done. This new year, which I decided to welcome yesterday, will be better, even if it means I have to mark my door with the blood of the sacrificial lamb!