Recently in Marital Blitz Category

On this, Mom's 48th Mother's Day, no more macaroni necklaces or scrawled construction paper cards. Lots of flowers and a nice dinner, and this, a bow to everything Mom's taught me. Yes, you are right most of the time, and see, I have been listening, and learning. And thank you.

Here's Mom and Dad on their wedding day, Dec. 3, 1960. They forgot to confirm with the priest so they got a surly stand-in instead. But the bride was radiant and the festivities grand.

Mom on marriage:
1. Work to be an equal partner in everything, from housework to the finances.
2. Trust your husband but trust your instincts too.
3. Don't be a doormat.
4. If all else fails, laugh.

You can't tell from this blog, but I live...

This is the second day that I feel like my head's above water finally, with the nausea and dizziness, fatigue and general malaise easing up considerably. All this month I've felt submerged and getting more and more depressed, praying for the hyperemesis gravidarum to end.

I'm still on Zofran (I tried getting off it and ended up spending most of the day running from bathroom to kitchen sink) and actually drove around yesterday without the dreaded grocery bag clutched in my hand.

I've never been a New Year's Eve party girl. My parents were always too scared of drunk drivers to let me out much back in the day, and with little ones, we mostly stay home or hang at a relative's house to ring in the new year.

There's always something hopeful about all the parties. Even though we know so many people, so close to us, who have had a house foreclosed, who's been laid off, who are struggling financially, we raise our glasses to hope anyway.

And my three favorite dates, each of whom I'll be kissing come midnight:

Hubby came home from his hour and a half commute and totally needed time with me and the boys. He had heard and read about the man who lost his family in the Marine Corps jet crash in San Diego: his wife, 36, their two daughters, 15 months and 2 months (2 months, Hubby kept saying) and his mother-in-law, 60.

Read the story here.

For this man who has literally lost everything to ask us to pray for the pilot is so noble.

It always makes Hubby and I weak-kneed when we hear stories like this. We wept copious tears after this year's earthquake in China, and how parents waited and wailed amid the rubble of their children's school.

You think your kids would be safe in school. You assume the safest place for your wife and little girls would be your own home.

Hubby and I always say "I love you," at least once a day, and always before parting.

Now that I'm an ol' married woman (10 years and counting!) I can share how Hubby and I decide which side of the family to go to on holidays.

No coin-throwing, no rock-paper-scissors or heated arguments about how "your" mother will "never" forgive us for not bringing her grandson to her on Christmas Eve.

Read on, grasshopper, and learn.

You know that Far Side cartoon where there's a bird in the sky, with this in its thought balloon: "Up, down, up, down," and below, a dog is looking at a white fence, "bark, don't bark, bark, don't bark," while a man strides on the street: "left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot." On the green grass nearby is a frog, who's thinking, "hop, rest, hop, rest, rest....dang!"

Yup, that's how I feel today.

Bills haven't been paid (I was supposed to do them by noon today), I broke down and ordered pizza for lunch, the boys discovered the joys of washing rocks but trailed dirt and mud into the house and got all wet in this cold day, and Hubby called to say he's not feeling well. Car needs a wash, house is still a mess....

BUT, Hubby's coming home soon and there's a big Hershey bar in the pantry and my boys are now giggling at something funny their cousin said and there's enough light outside to water the rosebushes, which, despite and in spite of me, are blooming yellow and lavender.

And there's enough leftover pizza so I don't have to cook!

There's something to be said for basic lives, lovely routines and the ups and downs, hops and rests of every day.


For everything that's been, thanks. For everything that is to come, yes.

The Last Lecture professor died today.

Randy Pausch battled pancreatic cancer for almost a year, giving a sensational lecture, writing a book and showing us all how to die well. He was 47.

Pausch seems like a really laidback, friendly sort, a self-proclaimed computer nerd who dreamed of working for Disney and winning those huge stuffed toys at fairs. At the time of his diagnosis, he seemingly had it all: a great job teaching, a wonderful wife and three young children.

That's what hurts.

My dad did it. A lot of my friends' dads did it. Several other close relatives did it. Now New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer stands in the spotlight for cheating on his wife. And his wife Silda (whom I just read about recently on Cookie magazine talking about greening the governor's mansion) is also the target of many a pundit and ordinary folk on the street. Should she stand by her man? Why?

I had an "ouch!" moment today.

In a recent Yahoo! poll, 48 percent of respondents with spouses or partners admitted to financial infidelity, say hiding a new blouse or undervaluing a purchase ("It cost 50, hon," when it's really $59.99.) May I be the first to say mea culpa?

I have done this many times: buying non-necessities like that beautiful linen shirt from JJill, on sale, mind you! Hubby doesn't find out until the bill comes. Shopping for dish soap and Drano at Target, I've come home with a new serving tray and fake Tiffany lamp.

At a recent costume jewelry sale at my son's school, a mom came breezing in, saying, "Well, I've told my husband I'm out doing the grocery shopping!" Most moms in the room agreed they do a bit of "embezzling" with the family money once in a while. It made me feel better for a minute there, knowing other women did it. But only for a minute.