I'm not a doctor but I play one on TV

I have raved a little about Sloan Kettering but basically if you dont know what it is, it is the number one cancer hospital in the country and maybe even the world. They have saved two special people that I know with the most rare cancers and that makes me believe that they are the best.

I am sure people have had experiences that make them believe that it may not be the best cancer hospital but I have to go on my own experience and it has always been amazing.

Except of course for the long hours of waiting and the fact that when you go there you have CANCER!!

So Hubby was diagnosed with Synovial Sarcoma in 1993. He had two fingers amputated on his left hand and he went to Sloan Kettering every 3 months for the first couple of years for checkups. Every time we saw Dr. Boland.

Doctor Boland is a tall white haired man with a thick Irish Brogue. As far as I am concerned, he is GOD. He is the rare type of doctor who cares, really cares. He sits down in the room when he comes in. He tells the truth. Good, bad or ugly.

So sometime during the first couple of years following the initial diagnosis, Hubby finds a lump in his shoulder.

Diagnosis at original detection... cut it out from wherever it is. If you can cut it out then its ok, fingers, arms, legs, feet ok

neck, hip, spine. death sentence.

Shoulders not so sure.

Dr. Boland, GOD, told us that most likely if the cancer came back it would be in his lungs. So he had a chest xray each time.

And when it came out fine... we went to dinner in Manhattan.

We discovered Brother Jimmys, which no joke has a flashing neon sign that says
Meat/Eat right over the neon pig. The floor is made of plywood and there are rude signs everywhere. But it has the best ribs you could ever eat, with mashed potatoes and corn bread and the most giant mind eraser drink you could ever want. It has a giant plastic shark sticking out of the top and is served in a fish bowl.

So now there is a lump in his shoulder and we are freaking out. For real because again shoulders, not so sure. He has learned at this point to do most things without the fingers but if he has to have his arm amputated past his shoulder, his career as an electrician is over. And hopefully just that and not his life.


So we make an appointment to see God and they take our calls like we are old friends because being one of only 8 people in the country with this cancer in this spot, we are kinda famous,

That and the fact that we used D3 as entertainment.

We get an appointment right away and we go in and Dr. Boland is really nervous. I can tell he thinks it may be back.

He comes in, examines Hubby, leaves, comes back, leaves again.... brings in someone else... leaves, comes back later and is like ok come with me.

We trust him, so we follow. He tells us that because we come from so far away and because he wants to take care of this immediately he wants to take the lump out and biopsy it. now. today. this minute.

He is not really supposed to do this so we are sneaking into an empty surgery room downstairs.

I am not kidding. We are looking around corners and sneaking around.

We go into the surgery room and he has an assistant and he is like Nancy come on in. So being completely obsessed with medical procedures I go in.

He has the assistant prepare his shoulder and then asks the assistant to go get something.

Now we know why the wait for Dr. Boland has sometimes exceeded 5 hours. 5 hours like as in our appointment is at 10am and at 245 we are called into a room.

We laugh when we hear first timers after 30 minutes of waiting say "Um I have been waiting for a half an hour, how much longer is it gonna be?"

Fact is... when someone is saving your life, you wait. With a smile.

So I am in surgery...

and Dr. Boland begins to cut into his shoulder.

he pauses.

"Where are my glasses?"

Nancy can you look in my jacket hanging on the back of the door?

I take out his glasses and he is like

I am already sterile Can you put these on me?

So I start to put his glasses on and he is over 6 ft and I am standing on my toes and poking him in the ears with the glasses and he bends down and I think...

this is a story I will tell for years.

So he takes out what appears to be a new tumor.

He puts it in a jar.

Nancy can you get me the anesthesia.

What???

Yeah take that needle and stick it in that bottle and pull down and fill the needle up with blah blah blah. Then bring it to me.

He shoots him up with blah blah blah.

He leaves.

He comes back in and says "I am not sure". He leaves and comes back. He stitches Hubby up (like Frankenstein)The scar is gnarly. And he says "It may be back". We say okay. He says "Well it has irregular margins but you never know" "Well if its back we will have to amputate.... well lets see."

They stitch him up, shoot him up with anesthesia, give him a prescription for pain killers and send us home. We took the train and two subways to get there so guess what?

We have to take 2 subways and a train to get home.

So we go to Genovese to pick up the drugs, give him one and get on subway 1.

Now Hubby is bandaged and drugged and we get on the first subway and I am trying to shield him from the crazy New Yorkers.

And he is getting more and more drugged and I am not sure how to get back...is it the 6 train and then the E train? or the other way around? Do I get off at Lexington Ave?

We finally get back to the Ronkonkoma train station and we own a pickup truck that I have to drive home.

Princesses dont drive pickups.

I guess they do surgery though.



Ps. They called about two weeks later and said it was an infected hair follicle that turned into a fatty mass. but no cancer. I remember hearing the messages and falling against the wall and feeling so grateful. I try to remember that feeling of gratitude in times of stress.

Like when Hubby is snoring.

Thoughts from the summer....

Well,well,well...

it seems there is a secret that I never knew. Having fewer children would have been way easier.

Ok... so I know you are thinking DUH..

But no really... the first time I thought about it was a few years ago when I went to pay for a vacation to Disney World. I had to pay per person and I realized that if I had 2 less children it would have cost me 2000 dollars less.

Hmmm... I thought. Things could have been cheaper with less children.
I swear that is the first time I ever thought about it.

When D1 was born, it was hard but I had no car, we lived far away and no money. I spent all day playing with her and although it was exhausting it was the life I always wanted.

When D2 was born, it was hard going from 1 to 2 but I figured it out and ultimately they were raised more like twins. I bought diapers and food and it didnt seem like I added much more to our expenses.

Going from 2 to 3 was a lot of work and since A)I hadnt had a baby in 5 years, B)Hubby was diagnosed with Cancer weeks after she was born and C)my family was not talking to me, it made it that much harder. I know that is why D3 was so well behaved. I mean really she slept when you put her in the stroller, was sweet when she was awake and literally made everyone smile every place she went. She was a light that stayed bright as long as we needed her too. But I managed.

I had the whole mom thing down by the time D4 was born and had she been like my other girls I probaly would have been ok but NOOOO... she was a nut job. Having 4 kids under 8 years old and the little one requiring so much time... it was hard.

But for the most part, it never occurred to me how much more money we spent on clothes or food or anything else. It just seemed like we spread around whatever we had.

for the entire 14 years I have had 4 children, I guess I just got used to there always being laundry, always needing to go food shopping, always needing to clean something, never having enough money.

It didnt seem to have anything to do with the amount of kids I had, rather just this was our life.

SOOOO when the only one around was D1 last week, it didnt occur to me that anything would be different.

Boy was I wrong.

first of all, I neglected the laundry all week, yet on Saturday when I went to do the laundry...not even a whole load of clothes. How could this be I thought?

D1 was doing the dishes after dinner... are those all the dishes she asked? Yea... I say... hmmm I think... somthing fishy is going on here.

And when I left for work in the morning, however I left the house, it was just like that when I got home. I cleaned one day and when I got home... yes can you believe it? The house was still clean.

When I bought a bag of Chips and spinach dip, every day I got home I had a little of it and it lasted the whole week.

Dinner... well it would have been cheaper if I didnt use all the food money to buy porterhouse steaks, 6 of those, which we had in two meals instead of just one.

A five pound bag of potatoes lasted through 2 dinners and a leftover. Normally I struggle to use it for one.

I observed that D4 is clearly the messiest kid I have.

I observed that D3 and her dilemmas take up a lot of my time(and I dont mind I am just stating a fact)I love being a part of the fix my problems game.

I observed that not having any children when we visited D2 in washington dc made it a beautiful visit where although they were all texting me at the same time I got to talk to her and listen to her and buy stuff just for her.

I observed that D1 liked being an only child and was way calmer without all the others around. We had a great time at the beach together and enjoyed cooking dinners and preparing other meals.

I observed that being alone all week made me appreciate hubby more and although I was nervous at the beginning of the week that I wouldnt want to spend the rest of my life just the two of us, by the end of the week, we had a nice time at the beach together and spent some quality time on two car trips together. Not as much talking as I would have liked but.. well I am flexible.

I realized that since I found out I was pregnant 23 years ago, hubby and I have never had more than a day or two alone. This was probably the longest we have ever gone since we moved in together in May of 1986.

I observed that my eye stopped twitching around Wednesday after all the kids had been gone since Saturday.

Yes it took that long to calm down. Think post traumatic stress disorder.

Although I had so much to do, I did a lot of reading, crossword puzzles and closing my eyes while I sat in the backyard.

There is a story about a man who goes to his rabbi and says Rabbi my house is too small and with all 8 kids I cant stand it anymore.

The rabbi says, go get the pigs out of the barn and put them in the house.

What are you crazy the man says? But of course he listens to his rabbi, because all good jews do.

After a week he goes back to the Rabbi and says I cant take it with the kids and my wife and the pigs, its too crowded.

So the Rabbi says go get the cows from the barn and bring them in the house.

What are you crazy the man says? But he listens to his Rabbi because he doesnt want to go to hell.

On and on this goes, adding animals and in laws until no one could move in the house.

The man says Rabbi I cant take it anymore. And the Rabbi says Ok, go get everyone out of the house.

And when the man does he realized how amazing it feels to have just the 8 kids and his wife in the house and how spacious it feels?

Do you get the drift of my story?

I was being secretly judgemental... I know you are shocked... but I was thinking how easy parents of only children have it. Just 3 porterhouse steaks, every time. Not a 2000 dollar Kohls bill. 3 people for tickets to Billy Joel or Broadway, and if its a boy, no manicure/pedicures, haircuts, tampons, hair gel... all stuff which could add up to I dont know enough money for a boat.

When we went out to dinner with just D1, we sat on the same side of the table and D1 sat on the other side. Two clappers... all to herself.

The bill, half of what it usually is.

So is it because we had all the pigs, cows, horses and in laws in the house and when they left it seemed so quiet? Or is it because life would have been way easier with less children? If I just had one, and it was D1, I would be done now. I would own an apartment in the city, and a beach house in the Cayman Islands. I would have gone to Hawaii and Europe already and not be waiting for the last kid to graduate the last college.

But what would that get me?

Real Estate and fancy trips?

That is never what I wanted from my life.

It was the children.

The laughter, the excitement, the holidays with loud yelling and lots of activity in the kitchen.

The debating, the girl talk, the boy talk and the talk about politics and drugs and morality.

The kitchen, the heart of our home, cooking, eating,cleaning up and then more eating.

And I am sad that it is almost all over.

It was nice to have a little peace and quiet this week but if you asked me to go back to the best time in my life I would say, 2000 until 2003. The time when D4 started school to right before we opened the store.

The kids were 5,7,12 and 13. There was not a lot of money to go around and not much time for each kid but we managed, happily. It was fun here. The girls had each other if they needed them. No one drove, no one left home unless they were playing with a friend. And we enjoyed our time together.

I could never imagine not having the girls. I could not imagine having just 1 kid. None of my kids wants to be an only child and I am hoping this means that their childhood was special to them. I hope they have a lot of children, who can come and visit grandma anytime they want so they dont have to wait 23 years to enjoy their time with their spouse.

No Hawaiin shirts, No mickey mouse ears, no fancy cars, boats, or trips could ever take the place of my kids, how much I love them and want to give them everything they ever wanted.

No, I brought in the pigs and chickens and cows, they are gone now and I am happy with all the room that they left.

We will all be together next Saturday and that does not happen often anymore. And I will treasure it. Every minute, every last meal, load of laundry, new clothes, toiletries, manicures. All of it because once its gone I will probably choke on all the filet mignon I will be eating, but its no fun alone.

No fun at all.

McDonalds, A Hook in the Head and a Pink Cast

What do these things have in common?

You guessed it...D#4

In case you are a new reader, I have four daughters and being so ingeniously creative I call them D1 D2 D3 and D4. Hey I named them once already. It was too hard to come up with equally as beautiful fake names...

So... here's the story

of a lovely lady

who was busy breaking all her lovely bones

there were 4 kids

but shes the crazy one

and last night she ordered all our new phones...

If you know her you know the last line is in reference to the fact that she is the one we leave all the important decisions to. "D4, here is my debit card, go into Stop and shop and pick out our Ben and Jerry's flavors and make sure to use the stop and shop card to get the discount" She is always on top of that kind of stuff.

Here's the deal though... the kid barely has made it through her life...

First of all when she was born we were lulled into a false sense of our fantastic parenting... We had 3 perfectly behaved children. the kind of kids you don't mind sitting next to in any restaurant other than one where your food is wrapped in paper...Really, not just a bragging mom, these kids were perfect...

We patted ourselves on the back frequently and whispered about those "other" parents... you know the type... the ones offering anything to get their kids to sit down and take one more bite, whose kids are running through the stores and restaurants...its a shame we'd say... such bad parenting...

And then... dah dah dah DAH!!!! D4 is born...

she never slept for longer than 1 and a half hours. She ate literally every minute she was awake. And she grew... like the jolly green giant... she always knew she would be tall... based on the fact that she used to hold things over her head to keep it away from us... when she was 2...of course now she does it and... well she's 5'10" now, so she see what has happened...

Accident number 1...D4 is about a year old and D3 is not quite 3...Hubby is putting pajamas on them while I go shopping for Easter. I am not gone more than about 10 minutes when Hubby calls... you should come home he says.. whats the matter?...i rarely got out alone then and this was my chance for escape... i wasn't taking the loss of it lightly...nothing just come back...FINE!!!!!

so I head home and he is standing at the door with D4 and she is slipping in and out of consciousness. What the hell happened??? Well D3 was mad that Hubby had put her pjs on D4 and was pulling the dresser drawer out to get a different pair... the drawer pulled all the way out and D4 was laying underneath it getting her diaper changed by Hubby. bam, dresser drawer to the head....Concussion number 1

By the way... when we got to the emergency room she also had a 104 fever which had nothing to do with the accident just coincidence... Coxsackie... it was the first of many...

Accident 2: D4 is about 18 months old...never stops moving... hubby is pulling her around on the kitchen floor by her arms, Pop goes the weasel...or should I say Pop goes the elbow...We took her to St Charles emergency room where they xrayed it and said oh its just a sprain."Daddy broka my arm" she told them..by the next morning it was blue and it was hanging from her shoulder not moving at all. Go to the pediatrician... this is dislocated he says and pops it back in. Same hospital where just 3 years ago they killed my brother in law. We have been boycotting it since D4s accident. Don't go to St. Charles....

I wont bore you with all the details of the next FOUR elbow dislocations, rotating back and forth from arm to arm, but there was one on Labor day, and let me just point out, not a fun day to be in the hospital.. that one happened in walmart... D4 was always trying to escape and when you held her hand, she would let her feet go out from under her and hang. POP elbow out...Later on when we were scared to death of her elbow dislocating, she learned to let her feet go and we would let go of her hand so we wouldn't dislocate her elbow and then she would run. Once when D3 was trying to kiss her hand when literally I ran into the supermarket for one second and left all 4 of them in the car and D3 pulled her arm over the seat of the car and Pop. I was on my to Girl scouts that day with apples to bake apple pie and thank god my pediatrician was in and just popped it back into place. Nancy they said, you are going to have to learn to do this yourself... no way...I only play a doctor on TV, i cant put an elbow back in... Oh i didn't tell you I play a General Practitioner on TV, not an orthopaedist... once we were in a filthy bathroom...toilet clogged and filled to the top... and she was potty training so we had to go and I was trying to open the door to get out and hold her hand and she tried to go back and flush the toilet. Naturally i yanked back and pop out goes the elbow...As we exited the bathroom she was screaming...you guessed it... "mommy broka my arm"...

so due to circumstances beyond my control and my boycotting of St Charles... i went to 4 different places when her elbow was dislocated 5 times. my pediatrician calls...hey Nancy... i have been your doctor for 10 years by this time and i know you aren't beating her but somebody was alerted to the fact that i was going to separate emergency rooms with a broken toddler. Oh the many storied of D4.

McDonald's...we are on our way to D1 basketball game. Yeah I know you are all surprised to find out D1 played basketball. anywho... we are eating at McDonald's and we are letting D4 run around in the play place with a friend of ours son who is D2s age. So if D4 was 3 1/2 years old D2 was 10. They are playing in the brand new play place that is a giant climbing thing. D4 falls from the top through all the floors to the bottom and lands on her arm. I knew the way she was holding it that it was broken. She is screaming and crying and so we quickly usher her out. At the basketball game I ask my friend... do you think this is broken... hmmm... not sure....I bring her home and bath her...PS... don't put a broken bone in hot water...when hubby got home from D1s game we put her to bed and thought oh it is probably just sprained or bruised. She woke up at 11pm screaming.

It was Hubby's turn to bring her to the emergency room. We call it in advance now...when we see her doing something stupid...its your turn I say...It was my turn last time he says...oh I am not sure... did you take her for the concussion, which elbow did you take her for...and on it goes...

off he goes and lo and behold... its broken... here is where the story gets creepy...they want us to see an orthopaedist the next day to have a cast put on...it is picture day at preschool... i don't want her to miss being in the class picture and so...yeah i do it... i fix her hair and send her off to school with only about 4 hours of sleep and a sling packed in ice that the doctors at the ER sent her home with. I have really great pictures of this but I am not sure how to scan pictures into my computer so... only those lucky enough to know her have seen the pictures. We go back to McDonald's the next day and tell them that she broke her arm there the night before and they were not that nice about it... why did you leave then? um we had a screaming toddler... we didn't want to disturb the esteemed McDonald's guests... Why didn't you tell us yesterday.... yeah refer to reason one...screaming toddler... people staring... blah blah blah...PS we won a law suit against them because it was a new play place and it wasn't proven....and by the time she gets the money it will not even pay for one semester of college...

It was December 2nd. You know how I remember that specific date 10 years ago??? Because I spent all of December 3rd 1998 in the orthopaedists office waiting until they could fit us in. All day... oh you don't know what December 3rd is. December 3rd 1998 was my 31st birthday. And we got there sometime around 11 and left somewhere around 4pm. With a little girl with a cast on....Broken arm #1

Good news about the broken arm though...it stopped the elbows from dislocating....coincidence? i think not...

Christmas 1998... yeah just a few weeks later...we get the biggest Christmas's tree ever... it is so big we have to put it on the side of the living room with the 14 foot ceilings. We are eating dinner downstairs when we hear, crash, boom, "Uh oh"... are you OK D4? The Christmas tree fell she says... we race up the stairs and she is under this giant tree. Hubby lifts the tree off her and we look at her and she has an ornament hook sticking out of her head...thank god it was just caught in her hair and not her head...there were broken glass ornaments all around her...

when they took her cast off in early January there was one lone pine needle stuck in the cast... unbelievable...

you wonder why i am so neurotic today... living with her was like being in Vietnam... you never knew when someone was gonna sneak up on you and bam drop a tree on your head...

There were years of illness and injuries. Things it would take me a lifetime to tell. I am going to skip forward to the next two big ones... the rest I will leave for another time...

January 2007... we take my sister in law and go to watch D4 play basketball in Northport. 4 seconds into the game...she trips backwards over another player and lands on her elbow. She plays still. She fouls 2 more times in such a short period of time the coach takes her out. I can see the way she is holding her arm and I look Hubby straight in the face and say... I think its your turn to go the emergency room. What? No. She's fine. Yeah we'll see I say.

The coach wants to put her back in and she is asking me with sign language across the court...I say, in sign language...come here(basically that means I wave) she comes over holding the arm like it may fall apart if she lets go. Are you OK I say as she walks over and she starts crying... it really hurts, she says. OK lets go, No she wants to stay for the rest of the game. We stay but she cant play. We leave and head over to the ER. D1 comes and gets me from the emergency room and we leave hubby behind with her (it was his turn) and he calls uh yeah D4 has a broken elbow. Holy cow... I try to call the orthopaedist the next day and they say... oh no no a broken elbow... you have to wait a week for the cast to go on, its too swollen.

A week later we see the orthopaedist and they put a cast from her fingers to her armpit. A pink one of course. After all... she is my kid...

Scary part is that a few weeks later, the cast is hurting her so bad. yeah turns out she is growing. Which is actually something they told us about when they xrayed her. "this kid has a lot of room in her growth plates" the doctor said...


Now... best story ever... sick and sad... but a story to tell

D3s Bat Mitzvah was in June 2006. The Monday after the Bat Mitzvah as we are all barely recovering from the weekend we are just hanging around home. I am on the phone with my mother downstairs and D3 and D4 are upstairs. D1 and D2 are in the living room watching TV.

All of a sudden we hear D3 screaming, "D4 fell and she is not breathing"... I drop the phone and race upstairs. D3 who is a tiny little peanut drags D4 into the hallway. After she tries to shake her awake. Not the ideal thing for a head injury. I come up the stairs and she is sitting up at the top of the stairs having a seizure, holding her arms straight out in front of her making some weird sound that was like "HUUUUUHHHUUUUUHHHHUUUUHHHH" It was a horrible sound. Call 911 I scream. Tell grandma we will call her back and call 911.

D1 picks up the phone and then races off into the bathroom to throw up... D2 calls 911 I think.. I should know this... I don't remember...

D4 starts to come out of it and I realize that there is an ambulance on the way and
D4 is lying in the midst of two weeks of dirty laundry. Oh honey come with mommy. I cant breathe she is saying... OK honey lets just move you down a few stairs until we are away from the dirty laundry. Step away from the laundry.

They take us away by ambulance and guess what... Concussion 2.

How did it happen you ask? The wheelie chair. The damn wheelie chair.

D4 wanted D3 to put something in the closet and she wouldn't...so D4 dragged over a wheelie chair and stood on it. It went out from under her and she fell straight back onto the hardwood floor. Unconscious, Seizure, Concussion.

Our first ambulance ride.

I should have taken a picture for her baby book.

I rode in the ambulance... and hubby met me there.

I am pretty sure it was his turn.

Total Barfarama

I contemplated many ideas for this blog but as is always the case when everyone is together... the conversation turns to Vomit.

Everyone has a good vomit story. To protect the innocent I will not mention when these classic pukes occurred, just the stories themselves. because lets face it...throwing up is always funny.

to be fair i will start with myself.

I cannot even accurately describe to you how many times I puked when I was pregnant with D1 and D3. Every day, all day long, for almost 7 months. Literally everything I ate I knew I would be seeing later.

It got so bad that i had to make my choice of food based on what was easiest to vomit.

Hmmm...should i eat those really sharp taco flavored doritos that could slice me like a razor blade on the way back up, or those soft cushiony corn muffins?

dont get me wrong, i still ate the doritos, but I paid the price later.

I got pregnant about a month after we moved in together. We had been married since December, but Hubby was out on a Navy ship, picking up pieces of the exploded Challenger off the coast of Florida, touring Cuba and just in general saving our country from the bad guys. there were less bad guys in 1986 but nonetheless, the Navy thought they needed him more than me. We moved in together in May and I found out I was pregnant in July.

Newlyweds.

I was on my way home from work one day when I started throwing up into a McDonalds bag in my car. I threw up over the Tobin Bridge, all the way home. As I pulled up to our basement apartment in the ghetto of East Boston, I felt more vomiting coming on. I pulled the car into a space and ran for the door. I planned on racing into the bathroom but Hubby was standing there waiting for me so nicely.

Blahhahahahaha.... puked all over my shoes, his shoes, in a trail to the toilet.

And he still loves me even to this day.

I once ate an everything bagel and yoohoo. then i went shopping in tjmaxx. I was pregnant with D3. i will make it simple for you, there were a few unhappy people in TJ Maxx and i have not eaten an everything bagel or yoohoo in 15 years.

D1's famous vomit story: Outback... she orders fettucine alfredo...I know already you are thinking... mistake... but she was recovering from food poisoning and I think I may have convinced her that meat was a poor choice. We get in the car to go home and we start driving. We are not even out of the parking lot yet and she starts, hiccuping. Right away we are worried, because there is always a hiccup, a burp, laughing and then she blows.

So in order to keep the pattern going, hubby is screaming uh oh uh oh over and over again. D1 is laughing and saying, pull over I am going to throw up. hahahah. we laugh and laugh. She's gonna blow hubby screams, she's gonna blow. Really pull over dad, really, hiccup, hiccup, burp, burp, laugh, laugh, blahahahahah...in her defense she tried to roll down the window but it only goes down halfway in the back. I dont know something about child safety. Whatever... puke guard.

Well, she threw up in her lap... an entire plate of fettucine alfredo and cheese fries. It was classic. Of course we had just pulled out of the parking lot. Really. We laughed so hard we almost puked ourselves. when we got out of the car at home, she had full noodles and whole french fries in her lap. and clover ran outside for her feast of whole vomit. For a dog really what better meal is that.

D2's famous vomit story...ok D2 never vomits. Never. She is like Jerry Seinfeld. He hadnt vomited in like 12 years. But then....the black and white cookie. It did him in and seriously it was one of the funniest episodes to date.

JERRY: Uhm, The thing about eating the Black and White cookie, Elaine, is you want to get some black and some white in each bite. Nothing mixes better than vanilla and chocolate And yet somehow racial harmony eludes us. If people would only look to the cookie all our problems would be solved.

ELAINE: Your views on race relations are fascinating. You really should do an op-ed piece for the Times.

JERRY: Um, um, Look to the cookie Elaine. Look to the cookie.

time goes by...

JERRY: Uh, I don't feel so good.

ELAINE: What's wrong?

JERRY: My stomach, I , I think it was that cookie.

ELAINE: The black and white?

JERRY: Yeah.

ELAINE: Not getting along?

JERRY: I think I got David Duke and Fahrikan down there.

ELAINE: Well if we can't look to the cookie where can we look?

JERRY: I feel like I'm going to throw up.

ELAINE: Hey, what about your vomit streak?

JERRY: I know, I haven't thrown up since June 29th, 1980.

so my point is she is not a big puker. but one time she was at a christmas party and just had way too many pretty, pretty drinks. She had a friend pick her up and apparently threw up in her car. The smell lasted forever even with multiple bottles of febreze. She threw up on her coat, her camera, her phone, D3's famous black boots and god knows what else. Her friend called D1 to come and secretly pick her up but we were on to her so Hubby went with D1 to pick her up. she was asleep on the floor of the bathroom, her clothes in a bag with her various vomit covered accessories.
that event caused a fight within her friends family that ultimately led to her friend being kicked out of the house on Christmas. The story continues and eventually the friend moved to Tennessee and got married. so if any thing goes wrong i have to say it is all D2's fault.

D3's vomit in a public place...so you read my story of how i ignored D3 when her appendix was rupturing??? Well anyway... she was pretty sick even after the surgery. But one day while she was recovering, I had this grand idea that we should get out of the house. I took her to Starbucks, got her a sugar free vanilla decaf latte and then drove through mcdonalds and got her fries. It was pouring out but I thought we should get some stuff from BJs. So I drop her off in the front of BJs and I go to park the car. As i am walking in the door I see her, head in garbage can puking her guts up. I am holding her hair and rubbing her back because really what else can I do at this point? When she is done, I took the garbage bag out and threw it outside in the big garbage bag. Then i say... do you think you feel well enough to go back inside?? Alright... I know... but I really needed dog food and shampoo. for gods sake, what did you want me to do? buy it in the supermarket.

D4's pukarama...we drove all the way to south carolina to stay in my parents condo. they werent there, just us. So we pull into Bob Evans for breakfast. As we pull into the parking lot, D1 is like I dont feel well. And she throws up in the parking lot. This apparently became a regular occurance because she threw up in the store parking lot the night before we opened and also I think in Walmart parking lot in Geneseo. Anyway sorry this is D4's story. So we say D1 can you make it into the restaurant? WE WERE HUNGRY. it was a long trip. huh! you are so judgemental. Well we go in and get a table and D4 at that time had a habit of waiting to the last minute and then jumping up and screaming, I am going to pee in my pants, while holding herself. So she says, I have to frow up...are you sure D4. Dry coughing and head shaking.... I grab her and run for the bathroom. But it was too late.. she started throwing up and I pulled her head into my hair so she wouldnt spew all over the restaurant. And she throws up in my hair. all the way to the bathroom. And then we cut the people in line to jump into a stall. Hey I am a new yorker, those crazy southerners have no idea what hit them. But D4 was worried, Blahahaha, mommy, blahahah, did we cut those people, blahaha, its ok honey, you are sick. ok blahblah. Now we call it Barf Evans, cause that is so funny.


Hubbys famous vomit story...we were at a wedding and hubby had way too much to drink. I never drank then because my blood sugar was so bad and my sister in law didnt drink because she was about 9 months pregnant with my nephew. So we were the designated drivers. it is a sucky job in this family let me tell you because everyone else drinks to oblivian. So we leave the wedding and hubby is in the front seat of my van. his family is in the back and I have to drive them from Hampton Bays to Ronkonkoma and yes that does mean i have to pass my house to get there. I am driving towards the hotel and hubby is passed out, And then I hear it...the dry cough and then... you guessed it... Total Barforama. Right on my front winshield. I roll down the window on his side, yeah i had power windows in that car. dont worry there were no bridges around. And he pukes all over the window, inside and outside. Vomit everywhere. When I drop his family at the hotel they run in and get towels. But it doesnt matter. There is vomit and vomit smell all over the car. When we got home, I stripped off his clothes, put him to bed, and then set out to clean the car. Boiling water on the outside, carpet cleaner on the inside. I was so pissed at him that night. When he woke up I told him he was dating his B1(brother 1)girlfriend. she spent the whole night hitting on him. I have to say right now its funny but at the time... no not so much.




watch this.

Bottom line is Barfing is always funny...no matter where or when it happens. and it sometimes is the highlight of any event. lets see if anyone tosses their cookies on thanksgiving. hahahaha cant wait...

Facebook Stalking

okay keep in mind I wrote this a year ago... and I am embarrassed to say that I do now have a facebook and feel a little bit ashamed of this but.... it is really funny so enjoy!!!



What is going on with the adults today?

Grow up. Move on. Seriously.

Here is a very serious question. When is it too old to create a facebook?

I am totally cool with...you started your facebook in high school, now 6 years have gone by and you still have it, but you dont update it everytime you change your underwear...

Nancy is...wishing it was 1984.

Nancy left a comment on your wall. You cant return to high school to prove to the cool kids now that you are some respected member of the adult community. They dont care. You are still a loser geek in the eyes of the kids today.

Here is the deal, our kids dont even really know a world without instant gratification. You need to talk to someone? You can reach them wherever they are on their pantech matrix or iphone. And if you have something better to offer they will ditch their plans for better ones.You can see what anyone is doing just by stalking them on facebook.

Nancy is "in a relationship" and "believes in her own new religion Nancyland".

Maybe I tend to be a little old fashioned. Just a little. I admit it.

My name is Nancy and I think technology ruined the world.

Hi Miss Nancy. Welcome to Old Fashioned Anonymous held in the barn with a gas lamp to light our way.

I am always the last to get anything electronic because... well I just always think I should wait for it to be proven before I jump on the bandwagon.

I had rollup windows in my car until 1998. I still have VCRs in my house because I am just not certain that whole DVD thing is gonna stick. When I ordered a new stove, I told the salesman, I dont really want a digital stove. I dont trust it. It could take on a life of its own and start roasting a chicken in the middle of the night. Lets just get it with the little clock and the knob so I have total control. No surprises from a rogue stove.

I broke down last year and asked for an ipod for christmas. Only because I ruined my mint collection of Shawn Cassidy and Michael Jackson albums trying to stick them into that small slot in the car above the radio. And my car didnt come with an 8 track player for my Neil Diamond tapes. Yeah its true I knew Michael Jackson when he was still black AND still had a nose, before the little boys.




I hate change. I love everything to stay the same. I order the same food from every restaurant I go to. I never try anything new. I got the same minivan 3 leases in a row. Ok one was purple, then green , then blue and I did finally break down and get automatic windows. But I still didnt trust them over bridges.

Yeah you think its funny? How are you going to roll down electric windows when the car goes off the bridge and is submerged in water? Exactly why now that they insist on putting them in every car, I make the kids roll down the windows when we go over bridges. You can never trust that ever changing technology.




Slowly almost every room in my house is becoming the same color. And not even completely on purpose. I just go to Home Depot and always come back with the same paint chip. "hey, that looks like the color from the bathroom?" "No I think this is cookie crumble, that color is crumbled cookie, way different."

I think boys should pay for dates if they asked you to go on them. You can graciously offer to contribute but only with the fake looking through your bag for money thing when the check comes. If they take it, ehhh, strike one. Actually that could be strike two if they didnt open the door for you to get into the car or the restaurant.

I wish I could be waiting at home for my hubby with a deliciously cooked dinner, pearls and high heels.

Well maybe not the heels.

I want boys to remove their hats in my presence, never ever curse around me and I want a handshake on a deal to mean something.

You know the good ole days. When we played in the streets and we chose teams. I dont remember it being so mean out in the street playing kick the can. When, if you werent good enough you didnt make the team but then you tried something else and you found your true calling. It forced you to look inside yourself for something else. You didnt just automatically get to be on the team so we wouldnt disspoint you.


Life before facebook,,,oh the good old days...

You actually had to call someone and ask them out on a date on their home phone. And when their Dad answered you had to say Hi Mr. Nancys Dad, can I please speak with nancy and ask her out on a date.

And the phone had a cord so you couldnt walk away to some private area, You stood right in the middle of the kitchen while everyone watched and teased you.




Ok so maybe I still have a corded phone. Once again, safety first. What if some killer broke into my house cut my electric wires and my cell phone was dead? Huh what then? Exactly, I will be calling the police on my corded phone and you will be dying a slow painful death in a pool of your own blood. Call me crazy but...I think I am on to something.

I think that the fax machine is the most magical creation of the 21st century. yes above internet and ipods because I can write with my own handwriting and send it to china if i want and they can see what I wrote. On paper. In my own handwriting.

when people go to give me their phone number I immediately go to look for a pen and paper and when people say why dont you just put it in your phone, i say, well... what if my phone loses it? I will always have this little piece of paper to rely on.

That is how I remembered to write this blog.

Little piece of paper in my back pocket.

No reminders from my phone.

I have recently discovered that many adults in my family, ok yes every one of them has a facebook.

My kids alerted me to that fact and then let me see a little of Facebook. I cant believe you can see every persons comments and conversations. It is like stalking really. You know instantly when people are fighting or "hooking up" or doing some other sleazy thing.

Here is my dilemma...Am i just shunning the forward thinkers of the world by not having a facebook? Is this like the corded phone, the rolldown windows and the vcr player? Am i making fun of them because i think its totally ridiculous that someone has time to update their every move or am i just hanging out with my friends from Old Fashioned Anonymous too much, driving our horse and buggies to our meetings, wearing our dresses and warming our hands in muffs, talking about the good old days, when your word meant something and you could only torture your enemies to their face and not with some mean bumper sticker...




am i THAT person... who refuses to learn how to use her new cell phone and instead screams everytime for the kids to help? who wishes we could still take handwriting classes and grammar in school so we would know how to write a letter and not reduce everything to text words? who thinks nice boys hold doors and pay for dates and are parent friendly?

I could never have a facebook anyway because my kids would never accept my friend request. I would be that girl whose only friend was Tom. Oh wait... that is My space, wow I am really behind the times.

that is fine I am happy to have a blog that lets me say whatever I want anyway, I dont even have to join the group, Adults against facebook.