Dear Kane,

Dear Kane,
Today you turn 14. Happy Birthday, son. It is hard for me to believe that it was 6 years ago that you, me, and dad became a family. Who knew that we would be where we are today? We have done a lot and been through a lot as a family, and I am very lucky to be apart of all it.

As I sit here, drinking coffee in quiet (hiding from Hudson and Lucy), I am reflecting on not only the past year, but our lifetime as a family together. When I met your Dad, you were a very tiny, little, just 8 year old, who was talkative and energetic. Not much about all that has changed. You are still scrawny, just a little taller. And, well. You never shut up. You have all the energy I could ever dream of. I hope you stay that way forever.

Lets see. You have been busy in the past year...
You started, and (barely, wink, wink) finished 8th grade.
You played soccer, and scored a goal!
You experienced your first love.
You had your heart broken by your first love.
You got to stay out until midnight for curfew, once or twice without permission.
You helped celebrate Hudson and all the life he brings to the Schuey clan.
You have been best friends with Sam, the neighbor boy.
You spend most of your free time riding your bike or hanging at the pool, with Sam.
You received a life changing medical diagnosis, and you are coping with it. I am proud of you for that. Always remember, it isn't the cards you are dealt that defines you, its how you deal with the cards that makes you who are you.
You broke a few rules, and spent some time being grounded. But that made you spend time with the family and build forts with your little brother and sister. They love you so much. Always remember to be a good role model for them.
You still love your grandma and grandpa Schuey, and you tell them often. That is a beautiful quality. Don't ever change that.
You are learning that a sense of humor is not always about delivering a punch line, but taking a joke. Hang in there. Your dad is NEVER going to stop joking with you. Neither am I.

You bring a lot of love and laughter to our home. You keep us on our toes. Being a teenager isn't easy. I remember. Your dad and I want nothing but the best for you.

As the summer winds to an end, you are preparing for more challenges and life experiences in High School. As a freshman. Good luck with that :) All joking aside, it is going to be tough. But your dad and I, and everyone else who loves you, are all here for you. We know you can do it.

So. Here is some advice, from someone who successfully made it through high school, and college...

-Don't pick on the big kids if you cant fight back. Trust me, your witty words are nothing against their big fists.
-Be on time to all your classes, and always turn in your homework. You dad and I have high expectations. You should too.
-Being the class clown isn't always the "cool thing." Try being the quiet, respectful, and kind boy- girls dig that. Trust me.
-Be nice to all the girls. ALL OF THEM. Open their doors and compliment them. Just do it. Trust me.
-Shower every day. Brush your teeth, and wear clean socks. Please.
-Play sports.
-Try new classes, learn what you like.
-Study hard. And then, study harder. You need good grades to get into a good college and move out of my house someday!
-Keep your locker, and your life organized. It will help keep you calm. You perform better when you are calm.
-Remember to pick good friends. Don't ever allow yourself to be guilty by association.

And. Finally. Remember that just because you have Tourettes, it doesn't mean that you can't do something. You can do anything. And your dad and I are here to help you. Take this year to learn about responsibility and accountability. Learn to take control of yourself, your actions, and your words. Make it a goal to never blame anyone for anything. A good tip to remember is- you can't control what other people say and do, you can only control how you react. No one likes excuses. They will get you no where. Be the exception to the rule.


~Do unto others as you would have others do unto you~
Matthew 7:12

Happy Birthday Kane. We love you- always,

Dad and (step) Mom
xoxox

P.S. I promise to remember the ice cream cake.

Define "Insanity"

As if my life wasn't insane enough, I decided to take the Insanity 60 day Challenge. You have heard of it. Its that crazy work out DVD that late night television is trying to sell to the world.
Well it worked on my (somewhat) lazy, cookie eating ass. I'm in. Well kind of. I have only completed day one. Day one of a brutal, gut wrenching, nausea inducing exercise nightmare.

My reasoning behind this disaster- Lucy asking me when the baby in my belly is coming. And, because despite my self confident exterior, I am a hot mess of insecure on the inside. I hate myself for that. I want to be a better example for my (not so) innocent daughter. I want her to (continue to) grow up loving herself and who she is. I could stand to learn a little from this confident, sassy diva.

So while I am crying in pain from Insanity, I will consider it a punishment for all the times I say something negative about myself. I will be better. For her. For myself.

If not. I will seek help. And drugs. Of the legal variety.

Okay. Bring on day #2. I think.

Detox

I have been home from NYC for 3 days. Therefore, myself, and my kids have been in detox for 3 days.

We have been cleansing ourselves by eating our fruits and veggies (with every meal), waking up on time to enjoy the day, and getting out of our jammies. We are also turning the tv off. And spending more time outside.

Also apart of my detox plan- calming Lucy down after her bipolar meltdowns, and reading more books to Hudson to encourage his development of words. Words that don't include deuce, boner, or sha-du-bee (thanks mom).

Oh funny story- today I was at the grocery store with my little schueys, when I stopped in the bread aisle to quickly review my grocery needs. Out load. I paused for a moment. When Lucy said,
"mom, don't forget the cocktails!!!"

Ah. Yes. Thanks Lucy. I can't forget those. What would I do with out you?

Back to detox.
I have also had an epiphany. God decided to punish us for our sins by giving us teenagers.

Or karma is a cruel lesson. I'm torn really on the logic. But either way. Teenagers are awful. Period.

My mom always told me that she hoped one day that my kids were just like me. I would like to say. That was a horrible thing for her to wish. Because it came true. Thanks mom.

My little ones jump (and color) on my furniture. And my oldest is a moody, smart mouthed, rule breaking, in need of detox, maniac.


I should be in therapy. I know. I just don't have the time. Therefore. My kids are stuck me with. And I them. So. Welcome to detox bootcamp. It's my way. Or well, because I pay the bills. My way.

Wish me luck.

Skittles, a Deuce, and NYC

What do Ricky Martin, Matthew Broderick, and a very intimate security check have in common? Oh, A LOT.

I am back from my amazing trip to NYC. 4 days of Broadway magic and big city fun. But, while I was livin la vida loca with Ricky Martin in "Evita" and laughing at Mr. Broderick in his new comedy, my kids spent 4 whole days with dad. And it shows. So while I was reminiscing with Mormon humor during the vulgar (but hysterical) musical "The Book of Mormon"and getting the most intimate security pat down on earth, from a very large (unattractive) female TSA agent, the kids were eating Popsicles, drinking juice boxes, and staying up so late that the red #40 just poured out of their ears.

With today being Monday, it is the perfect day to wake everyone up early, go to the gym, and make everyone eat their fruits and vegetables. And brush their teeth. And hair. And wear clean underwear. And most importantly, work on our vocabulary skills.

You see, this morning, I was in the bathroom. Going to the bathroom, when Lucy asked me,

"Mom. Whatcha doing? Are you on the toilet dropping a deuce?"

Perfect. Thanks Garth.

Thanks Garth. For letting me get away for a few days. I really enjoyed drinking vodka, staying up late, sleeping in, and being responsible for only me. It was rejuvenating. And thanks for keeping the kids alive. Even if they survived only on pizza and red #40. And learned a few new words.

I'll take it from here.

Oh crap. Gotta run. Hudson is throwing his blueberries at his sister. And Lucy is calling him a boner.

Has everyones brain turned to skittles? Do you think they have rehab for toddlers? I should look into that. Or maybe a skittle remover???


Excuse me while I hide in the bathroom, not taking a deuce, and listen to the original soundtrack from "Wicked" and dream I'm defying gravity in OZ.

My Serenity Prayer

My heart goes out to those affected by the horrible tragedy in Colorado. It is hard to swallow the ugliness that surrounds us everyday. May we all stand strong in embracing the beauty that does still remain. With that said.

As I gaze out the window of my NYC hotel suite, I wonder first, where the nearest exit is, and second, how so many people can be in one place at one time; completely un-effecting each other. But creating such an impact. As total strangers.

This visit with my mother, grandmother, and sister has opened my eyes to patience. And my need to improve on this. As evidenced by me cussing out the taxi cab driver who would not pick me up in the rain. Asshole.

Please. God.
Grant me me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change (my little sister's (republican) political views),
The courage to change the things I can (my patience in the way I react- towards everyone in my path, despite their political stand),
And the wisdom to know the difference (that just because Jillian and I don't always see eye to eye on things, I still love her. And enjoy having her apart of my life).

I hope to live one day at a time. Enjoying one moment at a time.

I never know when someone I love may be taken from me. Or if Jillian loudly professing her feelings in song will be my last.

I love you little sis. GeGe, you have affected my life more then you will ever know, or proudly accept. Mom- you are my best friend. With you, there are no more words. Loves.

For everyone else. I know I need to be more patient, and kind, and less sarcastic, and less judgmental, and so much more. I recognize my faults and imperfections. I am working on all of them. Hang in there with me. I need your love and support (so I don't loose my cool and tell everyone what I really think). Thank you. For everything.

Peace and love.
xoxox
-A

Birthday Cheesecake

I don't like birthdays. Rephrase. I don't like my birthday.

I did recently 'celebrate' my birthday. By celebrate I mean: work, laundry, dishes, diapers, and tears. I did get a new kayak, a few phone calls, but no cake.

One phone call I did get was from my GeGe. It was brief. Her phone conversations usually are. Thank God. But she wished me a happy birthday and promised we would do something fun soon. Ya. Ya.

Despite suffering from chronic fatigue syndrome, secondary to being a mommy, wife, grad student, and nurse. As evidenced by consistent yawns, and bags under my eyes- I somehow dug deep and found the energy to getaway for the weekend with the women of my family. Think of it as matriarchal chaos. Look out New York City, here we come!

Before clearing security, and dealing with all the bullshit that comes with traveling these days, just to board a dog cage built for the sky- mom, GeGe and I decided to have dinner at the Cheesecake Factory. One of my favorites. I know, I know. Its a chain store rip off. But the cosmos are good and the cheesecake is even better.

After finishing our cosmos and ordering our cheesecake to go, GeGe opened up her pocketbook and offered to pay!

Hallelujah!!!

Smiling, she said,

"See Manda, I told we would celebrate your birthday one day."

Damn straight. Second to cash and kayaks- booze and cheesecake are the best birthday presents a girl could ask for.

Happy birthday to me.

Now where is that flight attendant? I need another drink. And one of those things to cover my eyes. You know so I can shut out everyone. Especially mom and GeGe. And the screaming kid behind me.

Wake me up in NY.

Clean up, aisle DRUNK

Nothing makes you feel like more of a drunk then carrying bottles of wine through Walmart, only to drop one. And then, have a bunch of questionable citizens/employees stop and point fingers.

What? Like you've never seen a bottle of Moscato d'Asti smash into a million pieces in the spaghetti aisle?!?

Don't judge me.
#thetruthhurts

P.S. hey dad- what does this remind you of? A bottle of vodka, a trip to paradise, and $20?

What? No ice cream cake?!?

I got a sea kayak for my birthday!
I got a sea kayak for my birthday!
I got a sea kayak for my birthday!!!

I have been dropping hints to the hubby about wanting to try kayaking, for a while now. Garth loves me. I know he does. But he can be a real boner when it comes to birthdays, Christmas, anniversaries, and gift giving. Now, this mama, she loves to give presents. She loves getting them even more. Except when they come from Garth. From him, cash is usually best.

Examples.
First Christmas as a couple- gold necklace. I don't love gold.
First birthday married- no gift. Marriage. Baggage. Snoring- apparently are now all considered gifts.
First Christmas married- nervous, I make a Xmas wish list. A WHITE gold dress watch. I got a YELLOW gold watch.
First Anniversary- a baby. No gift. OK. Lucy was a gift. But not from Garth. Maybe a little from Garth. Where is the cash?
Second birthday married- I can't remember. Must have been great.
Second Christmas- mama's Xmas stocking is empty. Again.
Valentines Day (the next year)- mushy love card, with cash inside. Finally.

Are you seeing a pattern?

I have definitely caught on to this guys game. I'm on to him. When I really want something, I need to buy it myself, or ask my mother in law. She gets its. Gets it right. Every time. You know why? Because she asks you what you want. And she gets it for you.

This year. I told her about my kayaking dreams.

Enter this photo.

I thought it was my birthday?

No worries, my dream catcher of a mother in law got us each one. I realized what a good idea that was once I saw G try to get in his kayak.

Before G and I hit the open water, I thought I should do a little research. You know- RTFI: read the fucking instructions. Here are some helpful tips I found on the Internet.

This is how G got in and out of his kayak.

This is scary. But hilarious. Thank God Boppa Tim took all the whales out of the lake.

Great Idea. Pissed I didn't think of it first.

I think that's it. I think I am ready.

I just need to watch out for humpty dumpty as he gets in and out of his kayak.
Keep an eye out for whales.
And avoid swimming pools. And idiots.
Perfect.

P.S. G said he bought me a new house for my birthday this year. With out sounding spoiled, I would have loved an ice cream cake. In his defense, I only told him about the cake thing once or twice. But, there is always next year. Or. Maybe you should just stick to cash. I will buy my own ice cream cake.

Loves.

Mind Your Manners: A PSA

This is a Public Service Announcement

Attention ICU Patients: past, present, and future

I am a nurse. I love my job. It is an honor to help care for you and your loved ones in your time of need. I am smart, competent, and caring. I empathize with all of your pain, fear, and uncertainty.

I am, however; not your slave. Or your waitress.

I will not respond to, "HEY YOU!"
Or, "NUUUUUUUURSE!!!"

I don't appreciate you saying, "Well you are just a nurse." Your doctor ordered all those pain medications. But he doesn't actually have any. I do.

Again. I fully understand that you are sick, scared, or hurting. But. Remember playing nice in the sandbox in kindergarten? Patience. Please and Thank you. Kindness. The Golden Rule. Please and Thank you. Yep. You still need to follow all of those rules. You know why? Because they are my rules too. And you are in my ICU.

More rules-
Laying bed all day isn't going to get you home any faster.
Your spouse is also, not your slave.
Yelling wont get things moving any faster.
Sentence structure goes a little like this: "Please may I have more ice chips? Thank you."
Yes, you have to take ALL of your medications.
We will spend time working on physical therapy and dietary education.
No, you may not smoke. Anywhere. Period. Don't ask again.
I am here to help. HELP you get better. It will always be a team effort. There is no "HEY YOU" in team.
Please don't touch any of the expensive equipment. Ever.
No, your plan is not a good one. Mine is. How many times have you done this? Right. Now how many times have I done this?
You need to listen to what I have say. This isn't my first BBQ.
I sure as hell am not doing all of this for my own health. You are the one in the ICU- remember?

Now. Roll over. This wont hurt a bit.
Please. Thank you.

I'm in heat

The heat has been rising everyday. I have lived in Wisconsin for 10 years. The weather still kicks my ass. Every day. Mother nature will never satisfy me. My husband believes that nothing will ever satisfy me. Unless mother nature has a perfect day planned and my husband has no need to irritate me, than no. I will probably never be satisfied.

The heat makes me cranky. OK. The heat makes me crazy. Crazier than normal. Certifiably crazy. My kids wilt in the heat. Literally. The wilting makes me nuttier. It makes me feel like I have skittles for brains. I can not function. It makes me empathetic towards the wicked witch of the west. Awhhhhhhhh. I'm melllllllllltiiiiiiiing!!!!

With that being said. The heat hit 101 degrees today. But- according to Weather Channel app on my iPhone, it felt like 111. Awesome. You know what my kids wanted to do? Play outside. And wilt. More awesome.

Apparently the heat makes other people a little cuckoo too. Take good old Mitt Romney. It came out recently that he has been hiding money in off shore accounts in Bermuda. Hot? He denies doing anything wrong. Crazy? I love a good honest lie. They make perfect sense. I wonder if he is paying tithing on that secret money?  Maybe he should spend more time banking in AMERCIA.

More craziness. The Mormon Bachelor made its premiere on YouTube. I guess the Mormons are in heat too. I can't wait to follow along. Perfect. Pass the popcorn. And turn up the AC damn it!

Even hotter and crazier, my little sister Jillian is here to visit from Happy Valley, Utah. She is melting in the heat too. Because it is so hot, we decided to go to the grocery store. Even though I have central air at home, unless I am naked, I am not cool enough. The frozen food section is a way better place to hang out, eat Popsicles, and avoid the heat- barefoot.

Oh and, did anyone else hear that Katie Holmes finally filed for divorce from that nut job Tom Cruise? Has to be the heat. It is making everyone do crazy things.

Summer. Officially.

Summer has arrived. I can tell because my kids are demanding fresh sweet corn and to wear their swimsuits- all the time.


In fact the temps here in Wisconsin are reaching all time highs. So the weather man says. Lucy agrees, "Oh my goodness. It is super hot. I am melting!"

Well Lucy, you better put on your swimsuit. Oh wait. You've been wearing your swimsuit since February. I forgot. Nevermind. Go eat some sweet corn and chill out.

Ridicul-US. A wedding recap. By numbers.

With two of our very good friends getting married, G and I decided to make a weekend of it. I made all the calls, packed all the bags, and shipped the kids off. Where did we go for our getaway? Holland town, Wisconsin. So small town, I actually didn't have cell service. I honestly didn't know that still happened.

We decided to stay at a Hilton a little ways away from the wedding. I know what you are thinking, "way to go big spender, G!" You may chuckle. But it was perfect. Just me and big daddy. No kids. No diapers. No whining. No nonsense. Oh and. We got to have afternoon sex without the pitter patter of little feet asking for fruit snacks- ya baby!!!! Best $99.99 I have spent in a LONG time.

The wedding was a blast. G was on his A game. Mingling and making strangers laugh. I enjoyed drinking, singing, and dancing with my girlfriends from college. It was a great reunion of ridiculousness. Let me count it out for you.

5- The time we had to start the rehearsal dinner. Sharp. Jenn (the bride) reminded the wedding party 100 times.

3- the number of bridal party members who were in fact LATE for the rehearsal.

15- the number of minutes they were late. Way to go guys!!!!

3- the number of times we had to run through the rehearsal. Since no one was listening or behaving. You can't take us anywhere.

11- the time it was when I finally told G to take me back to the hotel room. In hopes of a repeat of the afternoon.

1130- the actual time my pretty little head hit the pillow. For the record. No repeat. Thanks G.

6- the time my alarm clock went off. And when I realized that I had fallen asleep in my contacts. Great. Red scratched eye and a hang over.

2- additional Spotted Cows (Wisconsin beer) I drank (and blame my hangover on) in order to steel a set of mugs for Amber. You're welcome. Biotch.

7- the time I realized that I didn't have to be awake. Impressed by me yet?

6- number of (ridiculous) bridesmaids.

1- hung over bridesmaid with a scratched cornea.

2- limit of bloodmary's Mel (bridesmaid) was allowed before the wedding. Per the Bride.

4- number she really had.

1- bottle of terrible champagne that Mel brought to share. I think Carrie (bridesmaid) said it best, "I would rather drink my own urine."

3- hours it took to wrangle up 6 bridesmaids and bride to make then over. Hiding hang overs and scratched eye balls.

5- phone calls Mel made home to her sick husband. Yelling at him to get his sick shit together.

1000- times Mel told us her husband was sick and not coming. Quote, "its not like he has lock jaw. Come on. It's a cough. He should be here!!!"

999- times Amber (bridesmaid) asked Mel where her husband was and why he wasn't coming to the wedding.

24- crazy idiots on a bus. Bar hoping in wedding attire.

2- best friends that anyone ever had. Garth met a man named Wayne. Amber's husband in fact. Yep. It happened. Garth and Wayne partied on. circa 1992 style.

1- comment that made me laugh the hardest.
Al (groom- after the priest scolded the wedding party): "geez, had I met this guy earlier I probably would have chosen to be Mormon instead."
That's funny.

1 million- inappropriate, sexual, offensive comments, jokes, or stories that were shared over the course of the weekend.

50- times we had to explain those inappropriate, sexual, offensive comments, jokes, or stories to Wayne.
***It must be all the testosterone and metabolism us girls have.

50- things Wayne said that he needed to explain to us. Again. Probably because of the testosterone and metabolism. Or maybe it is because of S and M.
***I meant it when I said that we were inappropriate.

30- farts the bride let loose. Funny thing, with this group, no one really cared.

1- beautiful, fun, exciting wedding. Joining 2 wonderful friends.

To Jenn and Al- We love you and are so glad that you included us in your special day. We had a blast. We wish you a lifetime of love, happiness, and laughter.
To Al- good luck with Jenn and her gas.
To Jenn- Beano is cheap. Give it a try.

$25- the cost of a scratched eye and a eye patch.

Great. I'm gonna take a Vicodin and pray to god that I don't end up with lock jaw like Mel's husband. I hope my tetanus booster is up to date. Do you think people will believe me if I tell them I survived a knife fight? I sure am getting tired of explaining the real story.

Party on.
-mama schuey