Tag Archives: motherhood

Who Cares About Death?

21 Dec

 

Even for a fairly verbal person like myself, its hard for me to write down what I want to say today. Life, death, the cycle of life itself, it’s overwhelming and mystifying if you really stop to think about it, I mean, who knows for sure what happens after we die? Does our soul, our energy remain? If so does it eventually dissipate into the universe blending with all the other energy particles, gasses and matter? Is there some magical place called heaven we reside in and live the good life with out pain and suffering and no more lessons to learn? Is there nothing? I don’t know the answer to that, and quite frankly regardless of what any religion tell us, neither do you. Not for certain anyway. Belief and facts are not the same. The truth is, it’s not even important what lies after, because regardless of what happens after our hearts take its final beat, we can’t change it or stop it, or fight it. Death is certain to everyone, and what happens from there no one knows for sure. Religions obsess over it, people live their entire lives in fear of it, people fight and debate over it, but really what’s the point of all that when the outcome will be the same either way and nothing is going to change that? What matters is LIFE and how we spend our time here….the people we love, the kindness we grant others, the lessons we learn, and the wisdom we pass down. That we can change. That matters. That’s the whole point. My mother left this life 4 years ago today. I held her hand and watched the last bit of life flee her once bright eyes as she quietly made her exit. Where she is doesn’t matter. Death is not more important than life. Her time spent with the living mattered, and all that she taught me and gave me and showed me. I hope she is watching over me, and I want to believe I still feel her energy present now and again but truth is, that may be wishful thinking. Ive tried not to dwell or miss her in the last four years because to focus on the void her soul left rather than the life she lived, is in my opinion a sad sin. Her leaving made me realize the life I was living was being wasted on things not worthy and pursuits unimportant. Every second counts. Everything that we do counts. What we share counts. What we learn counts. The love we generate counts. That much is certain. Those things are real, and will carry forth long after we die. The afterlife is uncertain but the impact we have in this life is clear. So in memory of my mother carol, I’d like to encourage anyone still reading this, to go on and live that life of yours. Live with out fear, share what you know, open your heart to a little kindness and learn what you can and teach it to the next soul. That, I am certain, is real and has meaning.

RIP Carol, wherever you are. Thank you for all you’ve given me to give to my daughters and son as well.

Thank you for reading and please share with anyone who needs to remember to be Alive and present.

copyrite livelaughoveliquor 2015

photo is of my daughter Delilah, photo credit Sheila castellano if Red Barn Photography in hills borough NJ

 

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Screw Resolutions – 2015: How are you going to spend your time?

30 Dec

time

I know I haven’t written lately. I couldn’t. And I cant get into that now, but someday I will, I promise.

But for now, my thoughts are directed to New Years, a passing of time, an indelible marker in our lives, a clear segment that delineates one point in our lives from the next.We don’t realize it when we are younger, but its all about time. Recently, a very wise, insightful and imperfect friend and I had a conversation that is haunting me. He spoke of time, and what it means to spend it on someone. Bear with me on this.

When we are younger, time seems infinite. 20 seems like a loooooong way away, 40 seems even further, and 60 is unimaginable. Most of us don’t even give the concept of time any consideration, and if we do, we think we have lots of time left in our lives, plenty of it. We spend our time playing learning, growing, and having fun as a child, carefree and never thinking about it as a commodity or something to be given away or traded. Most of the time, we are killing time in our teens, waiting for bigger things to happen “Cant wait to get my first car” or “Cant wait till I turn 21, go to college, get married, etc.” Time is spent wishing for bigger things.

Moving on to our 20’s, we will spend our time with anyone fun, vibrant, good looking, entertaining, or interesting with out a thought. Like a millionaire throwing around dollar bills at a nudie bar, we have plenty of time to spend on trivial shit, and its fun to do so. It doesn’t really matter how we spend it, as long as we are enjoying ourselves. In our 30’s we spend our time building our “empire”. Chasing the ultimate house, squirreling away our nest egg, our stock portfolio, our designer handbag collection, obtaining big boy toys, etc. Our time is focused on the build  and the acquisition. Maybe its spent planning your dream wedding, building your perfect McMansion, picking out that granite for the big remodel, raising your beautiful family,  shopping for matching outfits for that family Christmas card photo shoot,  and searching out the latest and greatest video games/toy for your kids to have the picturesque childhood you always wanted. Make that money, watch it burn, as the song says. Spend your time generously.

By the time we hit 40, we realize time is short. We get stingier with it. Friends pass away suddenly, with out warning, healthy one day, gone the next. They have no more time.  Marriages fall apart. Jobs come and go, the company down sizes, and you’re in foreclosure. Life starts smacking you in the face. Your husband leaves, or your dealing with addiction, or your kid gets knocked up, and the other one is arrested for something humiliating, your dad tells you he’s gay, whatever the crisis, there is always a crisis.  It makes you realize, all that time you dumped into building these things was great while it lasted, but nothing is safe from life’s cruel jokes and ironies. The rug gets pulled out. Even if your “aha” moment is from watching someone else’s train wreck, and your lucky enough to never experience the heartbreak and agony of your own, you start to realize that your time is finite, and your most sacred commodity. Unlike money, or a home, or your stock portfolio, or  anything material for that matter, you can not get more. Once its spent, its gone forever. The gift of our time can save someones life, or change it, or make them feel loved or unloved, or worthy or unworthy. Time is our dearest possession, and we just don’t know when we are going to cease to have it.  Time with my deceased mother I will never again get to spend. Time spent as a mother is finite too, as children get older and need you less and less. Time spent nurturing a friendship, or fixing a broken relationship, or nursing an elderly parent or making a craft with your kids kindergarten class is a GIFT from you to the people you chose to love and spend your time and energy on, because you can’t make any more of it, and you can’t get it back, and it may be of short supply, you just don’t know when you’re gonna run out of it.

So this coming New Year, choose your time wisely. Make sure the person, energy spent or behavior is worth it.  Choose your actions seriously. Don’t waste time on people who don’t understand that you’re giving them something you’ll never get back. Don’t give away your life by engaging in meaningless situations which cause you damage and drain your most precious commodity. Don’t entertain friendships that rob you of your time and leave you empty. Debit your time to people and actions that honor it and understand its a valuable, endangered  resource. Make your time count, and make sure who you choose to spend it on loves and appreciates you for it, because time is a limited gift and you never know when its time for your heart to take its final beat, and just like that, your time is up.

So how are you going to spend your time in 2015?

 

This post is dedicated to two people. My friend Coleen Rice Medinger who passed away unexpectedly last week, and whom I will never have time again with. Coleen I enjoyed the gift of your time, and what you shared with me during our mutual struggles with infertility.

And to my imperfect friend, a very flawed man who knows who he is. I appreciate your time, thank you for trusting me to spend it together.

 

Copyrite 2014 livelaughloveliquor.

Thank you for spending your time reading my words, allowing me to connect with you, and please share if it touches you.

 

What is the Meaning of Life?

29 Mar

blogwaterpark

I’m not sure if it was my mother’s death that prompted it, or perhaps being on the wrong side of 45, but I make no secret about that fact that I am experiencing a severe mid-life crisis.  It’s not just the fact that I am wearing powder blue eye shadow like its 1975, or that I bought a snappy little convertible Audi (red, of course) or that I have re-discovered the push up bra.  While those things are obvious (and pathetically cliché) in all seriousness,I have also found myself searching to live a more  thoughtful life.  As the mother of young children who is often tossed back and forth in a sea of banal household routines (lunches, laundry, drop off, pick up), sheer utter chaos (9pm Sunday night someone announces they need 17 egg-shaped, nut free, homemade sandwich cookies to contribute to snack tomorrow) and extreme forms of torture (ever step on a lego during a midnight bath room trip??), it is easy to reel in the years on auto pilot, doing but not seeing, acting but not feeling, living but not aware.  I’ve been making a true effort to absorb more of every thing around me, live vividly (thus the blue eyeshadow, perhaps?????) and really be thoughtful of what is happening instead of just being in robot survival mode.  Not easy, but I’m trying.

This week for spring break, my friend Sheila Castellano and I took a last-minute road trip to New Hampshire for a mini vacation. Five kids in tow, we decided to hit an indoor water park. The kids were thrilled, and we were stoked to see they served booze so we could enjoy an adult cocktail while the darlings splashed about. The day was exhausting.  4 flights of stairs up and down for the water slides, (helloooo, I’m 47 years old!) running here, running there,  swimming, jumping, following the little darlings everywhere with scarcely a time to enjoy a cocktail or the grotto like hot tub provided for adults. I’m not going to talk about how one kid almost broke a nose, or how one dropped a deuce in her swimsuit, or the other that had to be rescued by a life guard, but  I do want to share  a moment of clarity I  had, in an unlikely place.

The girls favorite part of the water park was the wave pool. Graded like a beach, every 10 minutes or so a horn would blast warning its occupants that the pool would simulate the breakers of the ocean. Pulling you in, spitting you out, back and forth, being tossed around, the girls would squeal with delight the minute the horn sounded, and run for the “shoreline”. I had just sat down after 8 or 9 consecutive trips up the stairs with an inner tube on my balanced on my head, my thighs were throbbing like jello.  I was about to order a glass of wine, when they scampered up to me, each grabbing a hand, begging me and dragging me towards the man-made shore.  I begrudgingly hauled myself up on my still shaky hamstrings, and hobbled in. The waves started and they each held on to my hand, jumping and howling with glee. As the intensity of the waves grew, we got drawn in deeper, and they clambered closer  to me, eventually climbing me like a water-logged tree trunk. One little strawberry blonde, slippery, meatball in each arm, they held on to me for dear life as we were tossed about  in water up to our shoulders.  My legs ached with the burn of 1000 stairmasters, while one of them grabbed my ponytail like the reigns of a horse, and the other dug her toes into my hipbone, as if it were a rung on the ladder of her own fleshy tree-house.  I was standing there praying for it to be over, when I remembered my promise to be more mindful. Instead of waiting out the torture, I stopped, took a deep breath and FELT what was happening. In my right arm, the little one moved in and grabbed my cheek, planting a wet kiss on me while laughing and squirming with delight.  At my left, the big one was yelling “More! More!” and was beaming the most genuine, delightful grin. They giggled and chuckled in my ear, and it was a moment of pure joy and childhood elation.  As I watched the girls in their delighted state of euphoria, a warmth spread inside of me. Like a  slow-moving wave, I felt my affection for them grow inside of me, and just for a moment life shifted into slow motion, and time stood still.  I saw them in all their innocent splendor, the joy they felt just “being”, and my love for them exploded. Something clicked and for the first time in my life I was AWARE of what unconditional love felt like. Just pure 100 percent love. Not love because you expect love back. Not love fuel by sex. Or money, or power, need, or reciprocation. Not a desire to fill a void left by my own childhood, or to make up for what I never had.  Just unfiltered love.  Not loved tinged by fear: fear of the unknown, fear of uncertainty, or mistrust, or of being alone or what is going to happen when it ends.  Genuine, unadulterated, 100 percent pure love. Don’t get me wrong, I have always loved them, but that love was over shadowed by other emotions too – at their birth there was also wonder, fear of the unknown, worry about health etc.   Even though it runs in the background,   love get swallowed up by daily activities, and  is overshadowed by responsibility.  But at that  moment  love came shining thru in the foreground, and everything else stopped.  The ache in my hip. the pull of my hair, my weariness took a back seat. Warmth, and gratitude came rushing at me as the clock stopped ticking, stars smiled at me, and something spiritual tapped in. At that moment I was grateful for every choice I had made that led me to these children. And in the middle of the White Mountain Valley of New Hampshire, in a 2nd rate water park  at 47 years old, I felt blessed and God spoke to me and said, “This my dear, is the meaning of your life”.

Amen.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to give up my Sephora addiction any time soon, but I can promise you this: I’m going to take more deep breaths, live a vivid life and just FEEL things more often. I hope you do too.

Thanks for reading and thank you to all that repost this on facebook or share the link with friends. xoxoxox

Copyright 2013 livelaughloveliquor

T’was the GNO Before Thanksgiving…….

21 Nov

Girls Night Out! GNO!!! GNO!!!!!

T’ was the night before Thanksgiving
And all thru the house,
Jose Cuervo was waiting, that unfaithful louse,
Our make up was applied over wrinkle cream with care,
In hope that Captain Morgan soon would be there,

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
With ne’er a clue of their mom’s plans ahead……
With momma is her high heels, she is taking no crap,
she s looking like a hottie and knows just where its at….

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I rose from the sofa….is my ass getting fatter?.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore my gel manicured pinkie nail and almost fell on my ass

The moon on the breast of my push up bra, ya know?
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below, (insert perverted Bevis and Butthead laugh here)
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a Honda Odyssey, and the friends I hold dear,
With our designated driver so lively and quick,
We all talked a good game about getting some dick (not)

More fun than a tupperware party , the moms they became
And whistled, and shouted, and when the bouncer knew them by name;

“Hey, Justina! Hey, Betsy! Hey, Sheila and Nancy!
Hey Carolyn, Hey Dolly, and Charlene, dont you girls look fancy?”

To the top of the bar, grab a stool so you dont fall
tequilla + heels = disaster y’all

DRINK UP MY BITCHES, HAPPY GNO TO ALL!

A Barbie Birthday Party (Photos)

15 Jan

I know, I know, I’ve been MIA.  I have lots to blog about but time runs short, so for now I thought I would share some pics of the girls latest birthday party.

The girls started out using their gift certificate from Aunt Diana to “The Sweet and Sassy Salon”  specializing in little girls and their curls. They got a glittery up-do, nails polished and make up.

Darla getting her nails done

Delilah getting her hair done

Then we came home and decorated. Our theme was vintage Barbie:

We used alot of pink, black and white. I desperately tried to hide the ugly billiard light over the table with pink paper plates.

The tables. This room is actually my hub’s basement “man cave” home theater. Sadly, it has seen more action used as a kid’s party room!

I used decorative packing tape found in a craft store and a hand made label to make pretty hand sanitizer.

Duct Tape (also found in a craft store) around water bottles. (peel off label first)

The favors were “cupcakes in a jar”.  Cut a cup cake in 1/2. Put bottom in jar, pipe icing over, put top in jar, pipe icing. Tie with pink and white bakers twine and a wooden spoon. Simple, cheap and pretty.

A closer shot of the cup cakes. The black and white french scroll table runner is actually wrapping paper.

Instead of a birthday cake, I made cupcakes. Less mess and no utensils required, thus assuring no one stabs each other with a fork or something.  I bought the Barbie head cut outs HERE and then glued them to punched out card stock (punches avail. in craft store) I inverted champagne glasses to make a fancy stand.

Barbie head cut outs placed on dollar store plates. Looks like a million bucks, but was cheap!

Balloons found at local party store.

I used a cupcake paper to top a balloon and hang from ceiling.

The sign, using stick on letters, decorative packing tape  and cut outs.

Our guest finally came! Let the good times roll!

And so did the FUNBUS!

On the bus with their BFFs.

Sister love. (for a change)

After an hour of jumping around and going nuts in the bus, it was time to eat!

And twirl

And mug for the camera

Delilah loves Justina but for some reason she kept putting her hand out.

Nom nom nom…..pizza!

Singing happy Birthday!

Myself and Delilah. I look like a fat albino chipmunk, but what the hell do you want from me, I pulled this party off in under 2 weeks.

Afterwards, they went upstairs into their fun-room to play and burn off the sugar. I’m happy to report I waited until then to have my 1st glass of wine….I’m such a good mom:-)

more fun-room fun.

The Party is over! I survived and they had fun. Now for the mess……

Thanks for looking!

COMING SOON: My 1 year blogaversary is coming up and I will write all about it later this week and have a little giveaway. I also am working on a ‘real’ blog entry about our trip to FLA. and hub’s experience on the plane with the 2 girls in tow.

The Lipstick Larcenist Revealed! (an answer to the poll question!)

29 Sep

Thanks to all who voted in my poll regarding the “Lipstick Larcenist'”.  (If you missed it, click HERE. ) Sadly, she struck again while seated in a dark movie theater today, fetching my tube of “Mad for Mauve” out of my purse while I was consoling the other one, who was crying over the untimely death of Simba’s father Mustafa, during the Lion King. (Thanks, Disney. I am sure there will be a sleepless night filled with night terrors staring hyenas, wildebeest stampedes, and jungle fires in my immediate future.)

Anyway, this time I was crafty enough to snap a picture of the culprit, who in addition to her lips, adorned her neck, fingers and my trousers with said grease paint.  So, without further ado, The Maybelline Marauder is none other than………….

The Little One! Delilah!

Thanks for voting!

Copyright 2011 Livelaughloveliquor. All Rights Reserved.  No reproduction in any medium without prior written consent of the author is permitted.

What’s Wrong With This Picture?

27 Sep

Can you spot what’s wrong with this picture? This is my favorite reading nook, in our foyer.

How about now? A little closer……..

See it now???? (Hint: It is not the fact that I have decorated for Halloween ridiculously early)

There is no denying it…….

BINGO! Someone got a hold of my lipstick while I was upstairs drying my hair thinking Hubs was watching them. In reality, Hubs was in his basement ‘man cave’ playing guitar thinking I was reigning over the little darlings.  The culprit decided to tickle her taste buds by gnawing on a grotesquely shaded tube of hot pink lipstick I used as a prop for an 80’s theme party we went to.  After artfully applying Avon’s ‘Fuchsia Fun’ lipstick to her tiny visage, she then titillated her palate with it, turning her teeth and gums a lovely shade of magenta.  As if that weren’t fun enough, she then decided to show her love and appreciation for various pieces of furniture by kissing them, leaving tiny pink lip prints in her wake.

I know what you’re thinking: Why didn’t I get a picture of little Miss ‘Pinky Tuskadental’?  Well, I might have thought to do so if temporary insanity had not kicked me in the head, full throttle. At the time, however, I was busy avoiding cardiac arrest and screeching at top volume for Hubs to “Get the hell up here!!!”  Hubs got the dirty job of playing dental hygenist (a 15 minute ordeal of holding a 42 pound kicker down while shoving a toothbrush back and forth in her gaping crying pie hole). While I was busy silently cursing, crying and dancing on the edge  of a nervous breakdown.  Hubs tells me I was walking in circles muttering nonsense in regards to  promising my immortal soul to a pack of heathens if only I could get the lipstick off our (pre-children) cream color down filled sofa, but I have no memory of that.  So sorry folks, no pics of the pink encrusted cavity trap.

One of the very best jewels of wisdom my good friend Robyn Abramo once told me was this:  “Eventually everything is funny in retrospect.” It’s something I carry dear with me whenever I feel like I am getting ready for take off for flying over the cuckoo’s nest. It’s something I remembered when I came down stairs to make breakfast this morning, and found the one lip print left over from this weekend’s Lipstick Lollapalooza. And I have to admit, I laughed. Hope you did too.

As always, thank you for reading!And thank you doubly for those who share my link on facebook, twitter, etc. xoxoxoxo

You can find the answer to the poll HERE

Copyright 2011 Livelaughloveliquor. All Rights Reserved.  No reproduction in any medium without prior written consent of the author is permitted.