This year I’m thankful for so many things. First, I’m thankful for God and the blessings he has given me and my family. I’m thankful for his calling to develop & nurture a more intimate relationship with him.

I’m thankful for my loving husband. He is my laughter and support. My lighthouse, my shipmate and forever partner. I’m thankful for the hard work he does everyday giving us the opportunity to have a beautiful roof over our heads, bills paid, food on the table and the choice for me to stay home to raise our family. You are my life. Without you I would be lost. You give me strength. I appreciate you more than one could ever know. I know I’m blessed having you as my husband.

I’m thankful for all my daughters. They too are my laughter and love. They are beautiful, healthy girls. I love seeing the world with and through them. Experiencing things in a new fresh way with them. I’m thankful for my older girls’ mother, Sandy. She is a fabulous role model and encourager, raising my beautiful step-daughters into beautiful young women.

I’m thankful for all the troops fighting wars on domestic and foreign soil. I’m thankful for God keeping my Brother-In-Law and all other service men and woman safe while fighting for our freedom. I’m thankful for God giving my sister the strength to hold her family together while he is away. I only know of some of the challenged you have on your shoulders raising your two young children without “daddy” being home. You are a role model for strength, endurance and love.

I’m thankful for the closeness my sister and my brother and I have shared over the years. And cherish the years we have to look forward to. My brother works so hard to support his family. I would pray that God lifts him up when he feel worn out and under tremendous pressure. And when Lisa is exhausted from being pulled by 3 kids, I’m thankful that my nieces and nephews have sucha loving and wonderful mom. The world is a better place because of Lisa’s love for her children.

I’m thankful for the health of all my family members. Of particular note, my mom and grandma who recovered from intensive surgeries this year. I’m thankful for the close relationship I have with my mom. As the years have gone on, our relationship has developed into a wonderful friendship. I know I can always come home and your arms will give me a hug.

I’m also thankful for my family members who are in my life. Even if we don’t always see eye to eye or always have the same ideals, I’m thankful they are in our life and healthy.

I’m thankful for the friends that I have that I may not always talk with. Maybe it has been a week, a month, a year, or more. In one way or another you have all touched my life and I’m grateful.

I’m thankful for my friends. Friends that I can lean on, call on during some of my most trying days this past year.

I’m thankful to be in a position to help other people. I’m thankful I have my health and energy to reach out and help. I’m thankful that God has blessed me with a career that I can continue to help make a difference in lives.

I’m thankful that my husband’s job brought us to Bakersfield. In a million years, I never thought I would ever say that. Being in Bakersfield has afforded us many opportunities in the present and in the future. I’m humble and grateful.

I’m thankful for all that we have. That is the intangible and tangible. Knowing very well that everything can change in a moment.

Driving with my husband looking up into the sky today, I couldn’t help reminiscing.  The bright blue sky was strewn with thick white fluffy clouds. If my elementary school memory serves me, the cloud formations are called cumulonimbus clouds.  The fluffy clouds conjured up thoughts of the day I envisioned my first child would be born. 

For years I pictured giving birth to a child on a day such as today.  A beautiful, picturesque, sunny, cool, bright blue sky, fluffy clouded type day.  In fact, if I planned my pregnancy, I wanted a March baby.  March seems to be filled with those fluffy clouded days.  March isn’t over inundated with other family events and obligations.  However, God had a bigger plan for us.  He gave me a December baby.  In the end, I gave birth via c-section on a cold, dark winter day.  And yet, it was the brightest, sunniest, most beautiful day of my life.  Turns out I didn’t need those big fluffy clouds after all.

larger view

Being a diligent mom that I try to be, I searched local stores and online retailers for the cutest Halloween costume possible. After an exhaustive search, it was decided what my sweet daughter will be for her 2nd Halloween. Being that my husband is Texan and a fan of he Dallas Cowboy’s final decision on her costume wasn’t a hard one.  She was destined to be our heart's desire...

... A Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader.

After a thorough search, I purchased her costume at an online retailer. It was shipped with plenty of time. She wore the clothing portion of the costume around the house a couple days. She however fussed over wearing the wearing the hat and the boots. And don’t forget the pom poms. She thought the pom poms were fun at first. She antagonized the dog. But the pom pom enthusiasm quickly faded. I did manage to drag her to one Halloween party with her costume in place. Sans hat and pom poms.

The next Halloween party we went to she refused the hat, boots and pom poms entirely. However, she did feel inclined to wear her fairy wings with her Cheerleader outfit. Pink fairy wings with a cheerleading blue and white outfit? Ok, whatever, let’s go kid! She kept the outfit on for about an hour…. Then off it came, wings and all.

I like most parents feel that since she was my daughter, she had to be the cutest. I the idea came to make her a princess. She loves her fairy wings, what a perfect fit. She just needed a tutu. With my ambition and all, off to the fabric store I went. Purchasing shades of pink tulle and ribbon to make the sweetest and fluffiest tutu possible. It took me a couple hours sitting on the couch one night watching TV with my husband to make her precious tutu. The next morning I was excited for my daughter to put on her princess tutu. To my dismay, she hates it. She screams when I try to put it on her. She is refusing to wear her tutu.

So this Halloween, I will have a princess. But she won’t be dressed up. She will be in her “regular” princess clothes. This consists of a pink cotton shirt adorned with ribbons and jeans embellished with embroidered flowers. She is my princess no matter what. With or without wings. With or without tutu.

I’m not the fashion forward person I may have once considered myself.  I’m not wearing the latest Paris, New York or Milan fashions.  I don’t wear plastic shoes, leg warmers or mini-skirts.  I don’t carry a purse that’s worth more on the open market than my first born.  And I’m not too proud to wear Target pants or Wal-Mart shirts.  In my adult life, some people may one can say I live a sheltered fashion life. 

However, with absolute certainly I can say woman should not wear carpenter pants or overalls as everyday wear.  Don’t misunderstand.  I do think there is a time and place when a woman can with all due respect wear carpenter pants and overalls.  Such as when she is painting a house, building a house, cleaning out a horse stall or riding a John Deere tractor and tending to her fields of grain.  And of course, if you are Jennifer Aniston you can wear overalls.  She is the only woman I have ever seen wear overalls and look hot. 

I’m not trying to be mean.  I’m just thinking woman who put on carpenter pants or overalls don’t take a double look in the mirror.  I’m speaking of the double look in the mirror at the back side, your derriere, your butt!  Because if you did you would realize your once size 8 back side is now 16.  Or size 16 is now a 32.  Women, it’s not flattering.  Nor is it in style.  It is a hideous addition to your wardrobe.

In the last couple days I have seen several woman wearing either carpenter pants or overalls.  I beg, don't tell me it a new fashion statement or a revitalized fashion trend.  Things die for a reason!  The only statement would be rebelling against looking good!

To test this theory of your back side looking double its size in carpenter pants or overalls, I will ask you to take the following challenge.  Put on your carpenter pants or your overalls and ask your husband, your mom, your children, your best friend, whoever you trust if your derriere looks good.  If they are good friends they will tell you the truth.  If they fear of sleeping on the couch or in the dog house they will say… yes babe your butt looks good.  Which can then further perpetuate the problem in my opinion. 

What's next cotton sweatpants and big obnoxious slippers in public?

Daily our children take fields trips. As parents we worry about the buses they ride in. We worry about the food they will be eating. We worry about the class bully. But do you worry that your children may be visiting a place where men are found carrying assault rifles and over 100 rounds of ammunition?     >>Read More on Mom eConnect >>

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A virtual Mom sanctuary.

I've written, about politicians wearing makeup and I've written Prudent Candidates Need Not Apply. I’ve had enough of Obama and McCain. This election year is exhausting. It seems I can relate more with Joe the Plumber and Joe Sixpack. I can't but ponder: are they related? I wonder if they are twins? Brothers? Cousins? They are hopefully not inbred.

I would like to have a new election in the final weeks. Joe the Plumber against Joe Sixpack. Apparently these Joe dudes have all the answers. (I don’t even know anyone named Joe).

I think Joe the Plumber would be a valid candidate because he is fully loaded. No one wants crappy problems and he takes them head on. He has experience in taking care of back logs. He has a loaded bag full of tricks. He clears and takes care of all pipes, thus keeping things moving freely. He will keep Washington clean. We all know a straight flush beats a full house. Although the argument could be he has a crappy job that stinks.

I would consider Joe Sixpack, but I would just need more information. To consider Joe Sixpack, I would need to know what type of beer he drinks. Keystone? Heineken? Amber? Light? The type of beer one drinks tells a lot about someone. Their budgeting, taste, lifestyle, etc. However, with that being said I think someone with more experience than a six pack would be better suited for Washington. A six pack just screams amateur status. I would want a Joe in office more like Joe, Fifth of Vodka.

Although I think Joe Sixpack is probably a suitable candidate, I think my vote sways to Joe the Plumber. Don’t get me wrong. I like beer. But not beer bellies.

Also, I vote that Vice President should be Obama girl. Regardless of which Joe is elected. Because well, she’s just sexy. That being said, I think she needs a new Palin haircut.  Or atleast Palin bangs.

Go Joe!!!

There’s a review/interview on Truxtun Avenue where I give my opinion on the passions and toughness of working on a start-up company.  The article centers around Guy Kawasaki’s latest book “Reality Check,” which hits stores Oct. 30.  Check out the great article and leave a comment on Truxtun Avenue.  I would love to hear what you have to say!  Here is an excerpt from the article:

If ever there was a writer with a book that both creates and finds a new pool of irreverent-minded, work-passion-obsessed entrepreneurs, that’s Guy Kawasaki. Notice, the key word wasn’t "help," but “find.” That’s because his latest book, “Reality Check: The Irreverent Guide to Outsmarting, Outmanaging, and Outmarketing Your Competition” may just be the perfect tool for those who are smart, hard-working, and benevolent-minded enough to not just have a successful business start-up, but perhaps network with a man who has a golden touch.

It’s a bumpy ride, though. So after you get a copy, you might want to Velcro yourself to that office chair.  >>Read the entire article >>

Kawasaki helped direct from the front lines on two different occasions on the Apple/IBM advertising wars. He is director/advisor for a slew of golden companies.  Guy Kawasaki is the man behind www.alltop.com.   I’m eager with anticipation for Guy Kawasaki's latest book to be released.  I personally feel as though I know Guy from reading his column in Entrepreneur Magazine for many years.  He is bright, sincere and to the point.  I look forward to more of Kawasaki’s great advice.

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At one time, my 22 month old daughter would dig into the trash like a dumpster diver. If I turned my back for a moment she would pull out of the trash what she thought were treasures. Yuck!! Therefore, for safety purposes and to save my sanity we went through the pain stacking, multi-hour task of putting child cabinet locks in place. Now, with reluctance of watching my lil “baby” growing up, I took the child safety lock off the trash cabinet door. My daughter thinks she is a big helper and now puts her trash in the appropriate place. For some this may not be perceived as a big deal. For me it marks a pivotal point of my daughter growing up and wanting her independence. Doesn’t she remember all the previous days when she wasn’t so independent? Days spent crawling and babbling. Days spent needing me to sustain life? Those days appear to seem long forgotten. Although, I’ve seen evidence of her growing up before, I choose to ignore it. Today is just another day I’m realizing my daughter is growing up much too fast. I’m not ready for her to grow.

II've been watching tonight.  I'm not sure who I'm going to vote for when the big day comes.  I won't even disclose what party I'm registered.  I can say, that I feel more confused tonight than before.

As for Sarah Palin, I feel like she started the debate on a negative note.  Which then I feel lead the tone for the entire debate.  A barrage of negativity.  Sarah walked on stage, waved at the crowd, then blew them a kiss.  Well it was with that hand she shook Senator Joe Biden's hand and asked, can I call you Joe? Then she looked away back to the crowd.  Waving to crowd upon the approach to her podium.  Um, yeah,it's not a beauty pageant with your figure eight wave lady.  And who wants to shake a hand with lips all over them.  Hello, we are approaching flu season.  Although he lips are pretty.   I did like her mom approach to most of her debate.  Oh and of course I like her makeup.  Her lips and eyes were accented with a beautiful color display.  Maybe I can call her for make-up and beauty tips? She was very poised.  I wonder if she can carry books on her head and walk a straight line.  On a side note, what is "dog gone it"?  "Dog gone it" vote for me?  She seems very sweet.  Can she run the country though is the country. 

I like Joe Biden's experience and he is well presented.  In fact, he made me choke up when he talked about what it's like to be a hard working family sitting around the kitchen table.  He pulled at my heart strings.  I don't think it was fake emotion.  However, I think all politicians do take drama classes.  The biggest thing I don't like about Joe Biden is he wants to tax the heck out of the upper class.  I don't think that's fair.  Because someone works hard and see financial successes they would be penalized.  It should be evenly distributed in my opinion.  Who knows what he says is true.  He's a politician for crying out loud!  he too had nice make-up on.  Although the color was a little dark for his skin tone.  Thus didn't match his scalp seen through his thinning hair.  

Just a thought.  I'm middle class. I'm a mom.  I have a career. I wanted to be 7th grade class president.  I'm a leader.  I'm organized.  I love the make-up counter.  Sometimes I'm neurotic and crazy.  I'm analytical.   Always ask why.  I think of alternatives after my morning coffee.  I like my spices and my CDs to be in alphabetical order. I've never had braces.  But I have whitened my teeth.  Everything else is real.   VOTE FOR ME.  I would like to be considered Vice President of the United States. 

I thought I knew what tough days were until I just lived the worst couple days of my life. I am ever so grateful to be alive. Let me try and re-enact my life these past couple days.....

Friday morning I woke up with a very sore back. I thought, oh no I hope this isn’t what I think it is. I don’t have time for any deviation from plan. I quickly took two Tylenol and tried to forget about what I knew deep down was going to be inevitable. Eager I continued packing and getting ready for my flight to Texas. I was going to Texas to see my Sister and nothing was getting in the way of this trip. As her husband had been deployed to war two months prior.  My trip to Texas to help her with her busy world as an Army wife. A world entangled with managing a 6 month old and a 2 ½ year old. On the way to the airport, I repositioned myself several times in the car trying to get comfortable.

My airline flight was scheduled with one layover. Total travel time was 5 hours and 24 minutes. With an adequate amount of dread and anticipation, traveling with my 1 ½ year old daughter was going to be enough of a challenge. My back continued to hurt like I was being stabbed by some mean bully. Pop, there goes another Tylenol. The flight was excruciating. Not because the travel itself was grueling but because I had a 1 ½ year old climbing all over me. Normally, I wouldn’t complain about being a human jungle gym. However my back now felt like I had elephants dancing on it. At some point during the flight I also realized either someone turned the heat up to scorch or I had a fever. This was the deal sealer; I knew I had a serious problem on my hands. With the fevers, the feeling of being stabbed and elephants dancing on my back, I knew this problem that was going to need medical attention.

My sister picked me up upon arrival to Texas. After the endearing hugs and the how was your flight routine, I broke the bad news. I told her about the fever and the pain. She could relate and knew exactly how I was feeling. You see my sister and I have more in common than blood. We also both have had what is called Pyelonephritis. Pyelonephritis is also defined as a kidney infection. We knew I had to seek medical help as this would just linger for days and get much worse. Possibly requiring admission to the hospital. We commiserated on how the pain possibly equates to that of child birth. Or as my sister can relate to getting a tattoo on your sternum. Driving to her house from the airport was the longest two hours of my life. The drive included but wasn’t limited to, one stop for the kids to get food and a stop to buy a thermometer to check my fever. 102 degrees it registered and that was after taking another dose of Tylenol. At this point I thought I was going to die from the pain and I knew Tylenol was no longer cutting it. Turn, reposition, turn, as I try to get comfortable during the ride.

After the very uncomfortable two hour drive we arrived at her house, we gave the kids a bath. At which point my daughter decided she needed to unload her crap in tub she was sharing with her cousin. She has never taken a crap in the tub. I asked, why now God? Of all days to choose christening the tub, why today? Why right now? If you can imagine for a moment, cleaning up a crappy mess when you feel like you want to die. The elephants continued dancing on my back.

The kids went down to sleep and my sister wrote driving instructions on how to get to the hospital. I took the car and left my sister with all the kids. Her instructions were clearly drawn on the little white piece of paper. Somehow I was delirious from the pain and I wasn’t reading the directions properly. I wish I had my GPS; Shelly is her name, here to guide me. The streets in this Texas neighborhood didn’t have streetlamps. I had such a difficult time reading the little green street signs; I nearly pulled over and called 911 just for a police escort to the hospital. The only thing that stopped me from calling was I concerned they may ticket me for being an unsafe driver. Finally, there in the distance I saw a tall building with a cross on it. I knew I had found the hospital. I think that cross was a sign from God. He led me to where I needed to be. Maybe I had died and gone to Heaven? I know at various times I thought that it sounded like a pretty good option at this point.

The process at the ER seemed so antiquated. First I signed in with a man who appeared as though he ran the flow of the Emergency room waiting room. With his thick accent and big glasses, I followed his commands. Sit here, fill this out, and is this correct? Afterwards, I saw a triage nurse. The nurse took some information, quick assessments and vitals. She gave me a cup to pee in. Bring it back when you’re done, and then the doctor will see you. There after I was called to registration where they got all the payment information. I thought it was amusing how to registration guy wanted more information than the triage nurse.

The real fun was about to begin, I waited and waited and waited to be seen by a doctor. I saw people getting called back, but no one called for me. Did I miss them call my name? I was there alone, and I could have missed it. The ER was filled with a lot of people. People that were very interesting to watch. It was a people watching smorgasbord. I kept waiting, I was starting to get cold and shivering. After much deliberation to not cause a setback, I got up from my hard as a rock chair and went to the man that oversaw the flow of the waiting room. Sir, can I have a blanket, I asked. With his thick accent, he inquired if I had a fever, I said it was a small one. He refused to give me a blanket on account of my fever. At that moment, I started to cry. The kind of hopeless cry where you just want to be held. The kind of cry that if you weren’t in so much pain would seem unreasonable. Hunched back from the pain, I hobbled back over to my corner, defeated. I waited an excruciating 3 hours until they called me back.

After they called my name, I hobbled through the ER waiting room. It was like I was about to walk through the pearly white gates. Like winning the multi-million tri-state lottery. I knew at that point, I had made progress. Myself and my herd of dancing elephants managed to sit upon the gurney amongst all the beeps and clatter. The ER doctor came in and started asking me questions. Upon telling him my situation, he reviewed my pee lab report. Just as I suspected, infection. The treatment for the infection was a pain reliever, to settle the elephants, IV fluids as I was dehydrated, IV antibiotics and lab work. Normally I would be scared all alone in a situation like this. But somehow I was incredibly calm, as I was desperate.

After another three hour stay on the gurney in the ER being treated by nurse, Heidi, I felt better. The elephants finally went to sleep. At this point, nearly being awake for 24 hours, traveling alone from California to Texas with a year and ½ old child, along with being in the ER for about 6 hours. I was toast. This truly was the longest and most grueling 24 hours of my life. At 3:00am I found my way back to my sister’s house and climbed into the bed she so lovingly made for me.

The bed was so nice, until I woke 4 hours later with the elephants dancing again on my back. Is this a nightmare I thought? How could they come back so quickly? I knew I needed to get the pharmacy as soon as possible if I was going to feel human again. As I walked down stairs, half bent over, my sister told me I look like I need to be in the ER still. I knew I looked like I’ve been tortured.

After barely surviving the painful drive to the pharmacy and back, I took my pain meds and snuggled into bed again. Thankful my sister was there to care for my daughter. All the while feeling guilty that I was adding extra work to her already exhausting life. I was here to help her, not be an inconvenience. The entire day was a blur as I was medicated with pain medication. She told me the following day, I was only awake for about 3 hours. I don’t remember any of it. The lack of memory I’m certain due to the delirious pain and the accompanied pain medication. I just know my daughter was taken care of and I’m so grateful for my sister during this time of my extreme need.

With my dancing elephants now sleeping, I am ever so grateful to be alive.