The Upside of Death

Two men under 51 died two days apart. Separate incidents, their wives did not know each other.

I knew the first man, other friends knew the second.

Friends who were consoling me, two days later, I had to console them.

That week I was in a walking coma. This is life. We get one. Breathe. Live. Breathe. Laugh.

It was a sad, dreadful time...but if you think about it....when I look back at that week, I feel so happy and content.

That week my life stopped. I cancelled appointments, cancelled activities and stuff that wasn't as important as sitting with my friends and family. My house was a total mess but my kids had my full attention as we played games, read, talked, hugged, sat and prayed.

In the end...that yucky, horrid week was the most connected I've felt to my husband, kids and friends in a long, long time. See what death does to us if we open our minds?

That was wonderful week. I miss my friend. I'll see him soon. Uh....hopefully not too soon.

The Bad Sports Mom

Even though I'm a girl, I like sports. I like my kids to play sports. But not when it's 42 degrees and raining so hard and long kids (shaking from the cold) can't see the ball or other players they keep crashing into.

Sports-lover OUT….loving Mamma IN.

My son had two lacrosse games back to back in sleeting freezing sideways wind and rain. Every inch of his body, clothing, socks and shoes were wet like someone threw him into a river. He was shivering so bad it looked as if he was going through a seizure. Fifteen minutes into the second game….

Coach said, "Suck it up..."

Dad said, "Be a man...."

Mom said, "Get your butt home...."

I won't tell you who one this battle but I will tell you when a woman is involved (let me repeat...when a Mom is in involved) in a battle over whether her child will be put into danger, bodily harm, or sickness, move over. Mom becomes a bear and won't settle down till she gets her way for her child.

My large tween baby came home in tears to my warm hugs and soft heart. Reminding him....all is fair in love and sports....unless he needs a rational supporter, in which case, I will always battle to protect him. (Better do it now, only have a few more years before he'll avoid my embarrassing hugs.)

Yes, they won their game....but five of the boys missed three days of school or more.  Was it worth it?

Hot Sexy New Boobs!

Need a boob job?  Need a laugh?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RzakeJ6GRXo

A Happy Ending...

The worst part about life? It ends. If not for you...then for someone else you're gonna miss horribly.

A few weeks ago, my dear friend Todd, 51, dad of 2 little kids and husband to a great wife, had a heart attack and died. No warning. No I love you's. No "did you remember to pay that life insurance bill?" Nope. None. Just hanging with the family one day...gone the next.

Last week another friend called sad that her 98 year old Grandfather passed away. While I feel bad when anyone has to say good-bye to someone they love, I also wondered why my friend couldn’t see how lucky and blessed she was that she got to have Grandpa in her life so long?

And really, how long do we expect a person to live anyway? I'm in shock every New Years when I realize another year has past and if I live to be 100 I now only have 63 more New Years left. Then I reduce 100 to 80 and then I only have 43 more left. It may be morbid to you, but to me, it's a reality check to remind me to get off my butt, take chances and not let the silly crap bog me down.

Do I expect to live to 150? No. Do I want to? The idea is horrifying; all my friends would already be gone and I'd have to endure all those funerals as I literally fall apart. (That's me being selfish.)

But when I think about my friend’s Grandfather, I’m still blown away how lucky is. She got to experience soooo many wonderful memories with him that she wouldn't have had if he had died when he was.....hmm…say, 51 like my friend Todd.

Bottom line: Go! Do! live! Appreciate those you love and tell them you love them. Over and over. Cause tomorrow you (or they) may be gone. And yeah, yeah...you'll be sure to tell them when you see them later in heaven, but in that case, why not start now?

Which Wine Trinket?

What is the point of the colored wine things you put on your glass to make sure you remember which glass is yours?
After ½ glass, I’m lucky if I can see the trinket, yet alone recognize what color it is AND remember what color I had when I started.

I say they make ones that are ‘shocking;’ like a small penis, a hand with the middle finger exposed, or a metal sculpture of two gay pigs.  One look and not only will you remember it that night, you may even remember it for weeks, months, even years to come of that night you drank from a glass that held a small trinket of a big hairy uncut metal toe. 

Then again, I’d have such a good time laughing and looking at all the weird trinkets, I’d probably still forget when disgusting trinket was on my glass.

It's Closed?

The conversation went like this….

“Who wants to go to Diary Queen?”

There were shouts and screams of glee, followed by the voice of my friend's kid who said, “Oooohhhhhh, I hope it’s not closed!”

Hmmm….closed? Why would he say that? It’s sunny, 2pm, why would he think it would be closed? Then it hit me! He said that because his brilliant Mom says that to him when she doesn’t want to take him to ice cream!”  It's closed!

She's a liar! 

Brilliant! 

Liar to children!

I couldn’t stop laughing.

The kids all got quiet as they worried that Mom, aka 'trusty safe driver,' was going to choke on her own spit.

And I thought I was the only one that lied to my kids when I was broke or tired…!   At least I waited till it was dark, this Mom convincingly does it during the day!

Absolutely hilarious. (Love that Mom by the way.)

Win a Dream Home?

I'm not a Vegas girl.  Why?  I don't like to lose.  In fact, the only real betting I do is hitting the snooze alarm each morning.  In Vegas, I'll sit at the nickel slots, pretending to play till I see the cocktail waitress come by with free drinks to those betting.

That said, if the money I spent gambing didn't go to the fat-head casino owners, but instead went to some family in need, I'd bet with pride!

Today, I found that fun-worthwhile gamble.  $150 a ticket and I got a chance (one, single chance) to win a 7,300 square foot, 1.8 million dollar house!  All the proceeds go to benefit the Ronald McDonald House of San Diego.  So regardless if I win or not, someone else gets my money that needs it.

But wouldn't it be cool to win?  Tee-hee.  It's their 7th annual!  Let me know if you get the house - I want to visit!   http://www.sdraffle.com/

The Screw-up of San Francisco

Really? Who's idea was it to put a major city on top of a massive hill?

Like most mountain roads builders built them with safety in mind. They go side to side like you do when you ski a mountain.

Not San Fran! Whoever designed that city said, "Nope! Our people are face adversity! Our roads will go straight up and straight down!"

Later as global warming set in, someone must have said, "Let's just hope it never snows here."

Who Stole My Time?

Five minutes ago it was 9am, now it's 1pm!

When I was a kid in school, I'd stare at that big white time counter, watching the second hand click and click, using my brain, my magic power from watching "Bewitched" to make that black pointer click faster, just a bit faster...so I could be free!!!!

Never worked.  The day dragged on.  Slow and painful.

Now, today and every day.....I wish that clock back in my life.

The Cleaning Headache

My mom has a cleaning lady....or ladies.  4 women that sweep through her house in record speed doing crap she loathes; stove, bathroom, toilets.  These ladies have been cleaning her house bi-weekly for as long as when I once lived there.  Now they are all getting old and blind. 

Recently I watched as they swept, mopped and vacuumed my moms house, missing obvious crumbs and a dried coffee spill that any normal eye would have noticed.   Yet at the end, they stood in admiration of the now clean home (or so they thought) as they gloated in appreciation of one another...one for having a home to clean, the other for doing a great job.

As they parted ways till the next visit in two weeks, I quickly picked up a napkin and wiped up the coffee spill and the crumbs. 

I know there is a saying that would go perfect here, but I can't think of it....hmmm....beauty is blind?  It only bothers you if you notice?  Friendship is better than a clean home?   

While it annoys me that my mom pays for a service that isn't being done right, she's so happy.  And who am I to ruin that for her?

The Nice Girl

For some reason I'm always aware of people that can't find a place to sit or have trouble fitting in. It's in my blood. I want to help. I have to get up, move chairs or even forgo my own seat to share with another just so someone can fit in and be happy.

But not when I'm working. Once a week I go to a coffee house somewhere to write my column for the magazines I write for. One time a woman came in and when I saw her struggling to find a place to sit, I made room at my table so she'd have a place to sit down. Ten minutes later, she turned on her IPod and began to sing. Loudly.

Thinking I was set up by Ashton Kutcher on PUNK'd....but doubtful because I didn't know him yet....I went ahead and kindly asked her to turn it down. Suddenly she started screaming at me to mind my own business and to get a life. She started singing louder.

I looked around for support. Didn't anyone see me help this lady find a place to sit and now she was abusing me? Nope. People don't want to get involved. They just looked down. I left and went somewhere else.

Weeks later whenever someone else asked if they could share my table, I asked if they had an IPod or liked to sing in public. If they said no to both, they could sit.

Then I had a guy that sat on his phone the whole time laughing, sharing details about his pickups. While it was interesting and useful if I had a dating column, it was loud and distracting.

Another time this guy wanted to sit with me. I told him, "My husband is on his way..." He said he'd move when my husband arrived. Then when my husband arrived, he told us, "I'm not moving there is nowhere else to sit. Why don't you go somewhere else?"

So I've learned. Now when I go to write at a coffee house, I bring a large binder, scraps of notepaper and then I purchase two cups of coffee. I then set up the other side of the table to look like someone else is sitting there. Ahhh. No one asks to sit there cause it looks like that person is in the bathroom.

I'm still nice and helpful. Just not at a coffee place.

Lunch With Laurie

Tonight I have a show.  I love doing standup. Love it.  It's in the blood and must be done weekly or I've been known to get antsy.

But I hate the fact that comedy clubs are only open at night.  

7pm I'm leaving as my kids stare at me as if  I'm moving out.  Once at the show....if I beg to go on first and perform right away so I can get home fast, chances are I won't be 'seen' by agents, producers or people that can put me on Leno, Joy Behar, or Judge Judy (wait...no, not her)  Cause those important people don't seem to even come out till after I'm usually in bed.

Unlike most comics who sleep till noon, I'm up at dawn and put me up to perform past 9:30pm, I've been known to yawn on stage.  And that's attractive. 

I dream about working during the day, and am moving forward with my new show title: 
"Lunch with Laurie"

No more angry, sad stares from my kids, just everything I love:  Day, food and laughter.

Why didn't I think of this before? 

Alright...who's got a women's luncheon coming up? 

A Little Love on V-Day

It wasn't that hard. I saw some candy boxes and thought about my older neighbors, some married for 50 years, some widowed, and some I'm sure hadn't received a Valentine in years. So I planned a little 'happy.'

My kids and I put cut out pink squares, wrote "Happy Valentine’s Day" and delivered them to the doors of women (old and young) in our neighborhood.

I was so proud, my kids were so thrilled (after they screamed at each other about who would deliver what, and who was delivering more than someone else!). Bottom line it was just a fun little 'life lesson' on showing appreciation for women and making others feel special.

The response was so unbelievable, even my tween boy (who won't let me kiss him in public anymore) said, "I'm so happy we did that Mom."

Bottom line; Where others may say, "Ugh, why bother...." That's when you can say, "Hey, why not?"

Making someone else feel happy will make you feel even better.

Seattle's Best? A Cup of Water Puh-leeze?

I spent $13.65 on a three coffees and a muffin-thing for my littlest tot.  Thirty seconds later I went back and asked for an ice water.

"50 cents."

I laughed. Really? For ice water?

"We have to pay for the cup...."

My friend (for whom I just purchased a coffee), as well as a stranger in line both offered to pay for my water.

I was so shocked, it froze me. I just stood there. I didn't know what to do. Was I on candid camera? Was I being poked by someone on facebook? (never sure what that does, but yesterday I was walking funny because I had some weird pain in my leg. I think I got poked?)

Yes, I know the economy is hurting. People are hurting. Yet, here I am, patronizing a store. Instead of making coffee at home and drinking water for free, I chose this store to visit. And bring some friends (oh and a child). Then I get smacked with a ‘are-you-kidding-me fee.'

Being the bad-ass the mother in me won’t allow. I didn't pay it. I told her ‘Hmmm…no thanks.”

As I walked back to my friends (laughing at me as they do), I saw the girl behind the counter look me in the eyes and throw the cup of water into the trash. (Maybe she thought I’d wait till they close the store, climb in the dumpster and go get the precious cup of water…. that by now I'm sure she had poisoned?)

The silliness of it all.

My other friend went next door and got a huge cup of water in a plastic cup (with ice and a straw) from another restaurant. For free! And we didn't buy anything there!

(Last week, the counter clerk at Noah’s Bagels overheard someone say it was my b-day and not only did he give me a free bagel, later he brought out a tray of fresh fruit. Did he know me? No. But I now know him. Will I come back? Triple yes! That place is awesome. The people there are awesome! Oh and they have free cups for ice water.)

Seattle’s Best? Are you listening?

Waiting To Fix It

What on your body do you want fixed?   My knee bears an old acl tear, my tummy ripped and has a hernia from three kids growing in there, my boobs got the same treatment, my bladder (ha), my foot has some small weird callus growing that makes it painful to step on.  I'm sure there's more but I'm already embarrassed.

My husband says, "Can you do your boobs first?"

It's a nice idea but I know that road looks long, painful and is full of , "Why is Mommy just sitting there?"

Then I think...why bother?  Another 40 years I'll be dead...who really cares anyway?  And how mad would I be if I do some of this stuff then get hit by a truck?

That must be what old people think when their kids suggest they buy new furniture or redo their kitchen thinking, "Nah...you can do it when I'm gone!"
 

The Stress Call of an Ex

It was a death alarm, "BAMM!  BAMM!  BAMM!"

My heart stopped!  I ran for cover fearing America was under attack as my friend Sara grabbed her phone and said, "Ugh!  It's my ex!"

Later I asked why she had such a loud horrid ring attached to him.

She said, "Cause I hate him.  Every time he calls, he just stresses me out!"

I giggled....I didn't even know the guy and just from that ring, I hated him too. 

Sara said, 'That's the point."

Too Young to Look?

I caught my four-year-old son looking at my Victoria Secret Catalog over my shoulder. 

He gave me a grin and said, "Those are fancy girls."

Aren't Wii Old!?

What a sight!  Eighteen 35-45 year old adults, smart and educated, making good decent money, completely baffled.  Unable to figure out how to use the white Wii equipment until someone finally yelled, "Go wake up the kids!"

It was 10:30pm when my husband ran up the stairs to wake up one of our kids to help Mommy and Daddy play "Just Dance" on the Wii.

Thankfully before he woke a sleeping child, someone shouted, "We got it!"

It was a hilarious night.  Not only did we realize we're old, we now know our kids are smarter than us.  Well...in some areas anyway.  Just yesterday my eldest tried to staple his finger to a wall.

Help Wanted: Sick Mom Need Appreciative Kids

After announcing I had a 102 fever and begging my husband to take our three kids to school, he responded that he was late, way too busy and that, "why don't you keep the kids home today and just have fun with them."

Speechless I watched him walk out the door.

Have you ever been sick and had to take care of children?  I'd sooner die. Maybe that was the point.  Maybe instead of plotting to try and kill me, my husband would get me to kill myself.

I had to take the kids to school.  I put on an ugly hat (so no one would recognize or talk to me), unmatching coat and old stained UGG Boots.

Sadly two of my kids also fell sick and had to come back home with me.  Together we spent the day on the couch.  Wait.  Let me rephrase that...they spent the day on the couch, I spent the day preparing, cooking and serving various foods, beverages, spreading blankets, fluffing pillows, fetching water, fetching ice, changing channels and breaking up ridiculous fights that always ended with me yelling like a two-year-old, "Are you kidding me?  I'm the one who is sick!" 

No one cared.  At one point my eleven year old cocked his head and looked at me like speaking wasn't an option and said, "Moms don't get sick."

Oh...yes. That's right.  I forgot.  I'm a Mom.  I'm not supposed to get sick.  I'm just supposed to...die?

So, that's what I did.   I laid on the floor and pretended to be dead. 

No one noticed...they already ate.

For like 3.2 minutes I laid still on the floor.   Relaxed.  Happy.  Till the phone rang and Daddy said he was coming home.

I wanted to sing.  I think I did.  It was just a vowel.  Like an angel.  "Ahhhhhh..." 

It was then I went to my bed, curled into a ball and didn't say boo till the following morning. 

Then it was back to business:  Where are my clothes?  What's for breakfast?  Why didn't you die? 

My Brain Is Not Alone! The Memory Problems....

The Chairman, Sara, kept calling and nagging at me that many of my parent volunteers hadn't turned in their forms.  Oddly my volunteers kept telling me they were in fact confirmed and that they had paid weeks earlier.  I seriously thought someone was lying, on drugs or delusional...till Sara called to tell me she 'goofed.'   I believe the word she used was, "Whoops!" followed by a giggle.

Just today a woman who I thought had been avoiding me for months finally snapped at me that I still hadn't  paid her for a costume she gave me.  Really?  I thought I had?  "Nope. Never," she told me.  I went home, dug, researched, called the bank and found out not only did I write her a check, she actually signed and cashed it 5 days later.

After I told her I had a copy of the check and her signature, she still seemed angry with me.  Maybe now it was embarrassment? 

Either way.....I'm thrilled!!!   I always thought it was just me that was losing my memory!  Turns out, we're ALL losing it!!!  I'm not alone!