Fizz Fam

Snow Day & Danny Playing in Car

2009-03-29T08:36:00.001-07:00

What I Know For Sure, Part 3, or 2, or Whatever. There's A Total of 7...I Think...

2009-02-05T08:53:00.000-08:00

2.) Silver tooth fillings and the crutches the hospital gives you when you brake your leg are two things we should be ashamed of and are the equivalent of caveman technology.

3.) Even if it's only one, getting a tattoo is always a bad idea! Let's say you choose the perfect inconspicuous place, like, I don't know, your ankle. Well, you may keep your raging regret in check for a while because you've lost the flexibility required to actually see the ink blot referred to by your dying grandfather as a "jewish gang symbol". But, along with your capacity to stretch, you may also lose your agility with stairs and BRAKE YOUR LEG, thereby requiring surgery which will leave a 4 inch scar to complement your cute little blue star. STARS AREN'T BLUE! Now I'm tattoo'd and scarred. If someone in the bathroom stall leans down to ask for more toilet paper, I could be mistaken for a biker chick. Tattoo=Bad Idea.

4.) The only thing in this life that is like the first time everytime is popping a pimple.

5.) You should love your skinny friends with all you've got, because they are hated by so many.

2009-01-29T20:34:00.000-08:00

What I Know For Sure...

1.) The only way to get out of a ticket when you've been caught running a red light is to convince the officer of your genuine shock and disgust at your own reckless offense. And if you can manage to do some big gestures conveying your sudden realization of what you're doing while you're passing under the big RED light, you just might seem too pitiful to pull over.

Farewell O!

2009-01-27T07:49:00.000-08:00

It wasn't easy but I've managed to successfully discontinue my subscription to "O" magazine. Its arrival was always anticipated with excitement. What else this valuable fits in your mailbox? Besides Christmas checks from your parents or the random coupon for an oil change right when you need it? Anyway, it's all over. No more insight from experts regarding my anti-aging techniques. No more underground info on THE BEST books out there right now. No more being in the know about the latest innovative products from the "Look What We Found" section. And no more "What I Know For Sure". I always read the last page first, so I could know what Oprah "knew for sure" this month. Because no matter how much I disagree with what she sometimes says, there is something intriguing about the unfiltered thoughts of someone so motivated on so many different levels. However, I am pledging to no longer contribute to her "empire" through the discontinuing of my subscription. However genuine her spiritual search is, it has crossed into dangerous territory with her endorsement of the philosophy of people like Marianne Williamson and Eckhart Tolle. I read "A New Earth" by E.T. and it would have enlightened me to our entire purpose as a people and to the true intentions of the people I love most in the world...that is if I hadn't read the warnings of exactly that kind of "enlightment" in the Bible. It's clear that her intentions are rooted in a sincere exploration for spiritual truth, but her influence is immeasurable which alone makes her a target for the deceiver. If it were my job to wreak havoc on this earth, I wouldn't carry a pitchfork and growl at people; I'd get Oprah on my side because she's smart, kind, powerful, and misinformed. Wow. And that's why I don't open the comments option on my posts. My point in saying all this is that I no longer subscribe to the "O" magazine. It's the right thing for me. However, as a tribute to all the things I do like about the magazine, I'll be posting random nuggets of "What I Know For Sure" everyday for the next week. I don't blog as much as I'd like so if I publicly commit to blogging everyday for a week then I know I'll do it.

OK PEOPLE!!!

2008-10-22T07:01:00.000-07:00

Apparently my lack of blogging has left some of you feeling empty, unfulfilled, and longing for the details that make up the carnival that is my life. The wait is over. Your cries have been heard. I understand your anger. I mean, even I want to know more about my life. Some may see it as a mind numbingly predictable routine. But they obviously haven't experienced the jitters of morning drop off with Will at school, or the reward of waking every morning to the refreshing roar of a suddenly terrified toddler who realizes he's alone. And anyone who could think my life a bore has clearly never felt the thrill of a three pointer with a #2 diaper. Allow me to explain to all those that haven't witnessed my super hero-like gift with their own eyes. If a diaper of a certain weight is wrapped tightly enough and the winds are just calm enough, I can sink that stink from at least 25 feet (all the way from by back door to the garbage can at the end of the garage). I will admit, though, that I have no concept of feet, or distance in general, or chronological events in history, or a tablespoon, or a yard stick, or a quart...pretty much any jargin useful when measuring. Now I can't stop thinking of them...a lightyear, a cubic foot, an octave, a leauge. Was all of this covered on one day at school when I'd slept in? Because I couldn't read the clock..okay that was funny. Where was I? Oh yes, our life may appear to be mundane, repetitive, or formulaic. But do not be deceived. The four of us manage to make life an olympicesque challenge with what normal folk might call just daily responsibilities. For example, I have become emotionally invested in the ongoing mystery of why, upon finishing everyones laundry, do all three boys have perfectly matched up socks yet EVERYTIME my own personal stack of clothes is topped with a mountain of socks that are all so unique I can't even pretend that this one might go with that one. And another thing, just how is it possible that Daniel is so often jolted awake at night simply by me turning off my lamp and then fluffing my pillow. So, look, this is nonsense, I'm aware but you can't expect me to deliver the goods when I'm not blogging as a result of inspiration. I've been in a creative rut, or a posting pothole if you will. It's not easy trying to look like a normal family. How 'bout I just shut it and post some random pics? Okay? Okay.

No Baby Like Brady

2008-07-25T19:17:00.000-07:00

I was just going through some picture files and stumbled upon this cutie. This sweet thing is Brady. He is the son of one of my very best friends, Emily. Anyway, since it's suffocatingly hot these days, I was delighted to find this little snowman floating around in my pictures. He'll charm you within the first 3 minutes of meeting him. Most kids (like mine) are adorable in pictures or at least from a considerable distance, but this is a child you would genuinely look forward to dining with in a restaurant. Don't get me wrong, I'm crazy in love with my boys, but the last time we ate out Daniel was at the height of his "pick mommy's nose" fettish, and William ordered six peppermint patties for lunch. Just saw this picture and thought how refreshing to see a baby in the snow, and such a well behaved one, too. And here's one of just "mimosa" and myself, and then all three ya ya's. Love my girls!

A Day In The Life

2008-07-09T11:53:00.000-07:00

We stayed home all day, built a fort with the kitchen table, ate popsicles, bowled with 10 water bottles weighted with a little rice, and made a "Thank you for the beach" card for Mimi which involved lots of glue and glitter and sadly turned out to be just a piece of paper with random splatters of glue and glitter. But as I take a little time to post this, I hear Will scream from the next room "OUCH! Mommy, Daniel just stuck his finger up my nose, slapped me in the face, then bit my leg." Is it wrong that that's the best part of my day?

Willism's This Week

2008-07-02T17:38:00.000-07:00

1.) "Mommy, did you know that we are all children of God? Yeah, he's our Great Great Great Great awesomest Grandfather."
2.) "Daddy had a gross lunch! He had coupons all over his salad!"
3.) "Aghh! Why do we have to love each other so much?!"

The Love Of My Life

2008-06-18T18:32:00.000-07:00

Although, now that I'm posting this I'm realizing that it's a little strange that he posed like this for Sarah to take his picture. Actually, that's just more than a tiny bit wierd. Still, though, so cute!

Cling to the Vine

2008-06-10T12:34:00.000-07:00

“Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5)

That verse was sent to me today as part of a weekly devotional I subscribed to, and it had a prayer with it that I'll put below. It was exactly what I needed to hear today. God isn't impressed with our willpower when exercised apart from him. True victory in life comes when we cling to him, thereby using the power that he gives us to go forward. Abiding steadfastly in him we can live a life that is no longer a string of defeats, but rather one triumph after another.

Prayer

“Jesus, You are the Vine that gives me life. I don’t want to live independently. I want to remain and partake of You. Prune me for greater fruitfulness so Your joy will come forth in my life."

Fizz Pics

2008-06-10T08:41:00.000-07:00

Everything I love...

Where's Tyvola???

Life's a Bench

2008-06-03T12:28:00.000-07:00

This is my bench. Lake Norman Park and Recreation may not be aware that it's mine, but it belongs to me. A few hours out of every Thursday is "Mommy Time", and this is where it starts. Well, actually it starts at Starbucks, then straight to this bench. I used to have a place in Baton Rouge at the Arboretum, and although filled with the possibility of peace, it inevitably became a place of futile escape void of any real reflection with lasting value. But not my lake bench. Every moment is enveloped in prayer, thoughts of my family, my purpose, my goals, and yes, moments of complete nothingness, but it's on purpose now. One of my prayers is that I'll have a place like this attached to my home one day. Nothing elaborate, just cozy and mine. I believe I'll have that. But for now, I have a bench.

He May Turn Out Just Fine...and that isn't a skirt, fools!

2008-05-20T17:50:00.000-07:00

Do not be deceived. This is an animal fresh from the wild. Or so I thought... William was pleasant, perfectly appropriate and surprisingly cooperative while particiapting in the Keller Girls Fashion Show this past Mothers' Day. Nearly everytime I'm having even the slightest anxiety over his behavior at an event or gathering, this cuddly little porcupine senses my fear, and with it, every bit of control he can gain. Almost without fail, he can be expected to challenge my authority at the precise moment I'm begging the sweet Lord that he won't. My life is too often reduced to a string of struggles to maintain fragments of dignity. In four short years, this little beasts' keen senses have picked up on this and he knows when he's got me. I won't freak out on him in public, and I guess he just knows it by now. I've seen too many sane women become certifiable in public over the tantrum that their child began, and they finish. But not me. Nope. My social blunders take even those that love me most by total surprise. I mean it so sincerely when I say, God help me if the day ever comes that I'm asked to do a eulogy. Just for the sake of explanation, and entertainment, here are a FEW: just the other day I thought I heard people making out in a car in a parking lot of my doctors office (at noon on a weekday), so I laughed, then looked, but it was an overweight woman simply trying to get out of her car. Poor thing was kinda in pain, and it looks like I'm laughing at her! Somehow I managed not to say "Oh! No, not laughing at you. It's just I thought you were making out with someone." She had no idea how much maturing it had taken to accept that I'd looked mean, make a sorrowful face, and just keep walking. And then there was the time I RUINED my graduation with only a stick of Juicy Fruit. This is already too long for all the details. So, in short, I blame Kristin for her foolish act of offering me gum before my walk of shame. I will say this: I challenge any graduate to make more of a dissapointment out of themselves in the eyes of their professors than to graduate in Theatre, with a concentration in Performance, and spend the following two days after graduation recovering from a sore jaw. I'm a big dumb animal. That's actually really funny, because Bill said it looked like I was chewing a rather large, tough piece of meat. This has become about me, hasn't it? Well, my mom always taught me that everyones' favorite subject is themself, just in case your in a conversation thats going nowhere. Point is this: It seems as though Will may have some control over his behavior. Although a big source of frustration, this is very good news. Is it possible that when his dignity is on the line, he'll step up in maturity, and not publicly humiliate his family on a regular basis? Nah...can't be, cuz I got it comin'. But let it be known that William James Fisicaro did not ruin the 2008 Mother/Daughter Fashion Show. Now, if we could just find out who's stupid idea it was to let four year olds go barefoot! Poor, sweet Charlotte. Mmmkay, that's enough. I have an appointment with myself for a little reflection and self-loathing. I think I'll make myself walk on glass.

Secret To Life...

2008-05-19T07:24:00.000-07:00

"I'm already great enough for both of us. Just follow Me. For whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many. (Mark 10: 43-45)

"Pour yourself out lavishly, sacrificially for the glory of God and the good of man. Those with presence of mind and semblance of health are called to pour out the drink offering of their lives until the cup is turned completely over and every last drop of energy slips - perhaps unnoticed, uncelebrated – into the vast ocean of earthly need. The last imperceptible drop of your well-lived life will sound like a tidal wave hitting the floor of the Grand Canyon to the hosts of Heaven."(Beth Moore)

Just Normal Sisterly Bonding...

2008-05-12T16:47:00.000-07:00

So I Said...

To Which Liz Responds...

Random Pics...

2008-04-14T21:31:00.001-07:00

Big Big 4!!!!

2008-04-13T19:24:00.000-07:00

2008-04-09T22:01:00.001-07:00

Laugh Cramps!!!

2008-04-09T08:48:00.000-07:00

Okay, gotta get this out! Brian goes to Target last night, and "runs into" a lady that we "ran into" only two weeks ago. She, we now know, preys on young parents in the jungles of our local Target. Assuming anyone in our demographic will salivate at the opportunity to "generate extra income", she identifies them as mealticket morons, and transitions quickly from stalk to strike mode, and with the skillfullness of a snake. Having escaped her coils only two weeks ago, Brian and I were having a hard time getting over the the womans serpent like technique. It's just so wrong! Didn't pyramid schemes stop making jackholes of people in the 90's anyway? Whatever. So my sweet, sweet, george washingtonesque, honest to a fault, can't hurt the feelings of the mean miserable Burger King cashier of a husband is out shopping with Will, when who slithers by? Yep. Apparently blind with hunger, she doesn't even recognize her own bite marks all over him, and again goes in for the kill. And this is it....this is the part that's got me laughing in my sleep, literally. Brian turns around, recognizing the sneaky yet stupid scoundrel, and is instantly enveloped with waves of fear. He recounts feeling "like I was right under a heat lamp". Keep in mind that in reality we are talking about a 50 something woman with a creepy yet kind demeaner. He's panicking in his soul! All he wants to do is run away in zig zag lines, pushing the partitians over, screaming "fire!". He decides to face her, and play her game, but as quickly and politely as possible. But will the beads of sweat on his forehead betray him? No, even they keep still. Until she reaches out her hand to introduce herself. He accepts her handshake and responds with: "Nice to meet you, I'm John Smith." YES! I SWEAR! John Smith?!?! That's the best he could do?! I have never loved him more. He's almost paralyzed himself with his own remark. Desperately wanting to "make it more believable" he almost says "My friends call me Johnny", but manages to stop himself, not in the interest of dignity preservation, but because his window of opportunity passes while deciding if Johnny or Johnathon is more believable. Not only is he in shock about lying to someones face, but now he's got to back up the lamest lie ever told for risk of being found out. Even when put in a slightly uncomfortable social situation, Brian has a "Chatty Kathy" tendency. But this may be worth asking Target to review the surveilance footage on aisle 8 in an effort to get a copy. When "interrogated" with the inquiry of "So, what does your wife do?" he can only manage to say "She's in another town". What?! That's not even an answer, and who uses the word "town"? Exhausted from the ordeal, he warns me that it's just a matter of time before I run into her. Seriously, I can't wait. I would pay for the chance to look her in the eyes, shake her hand and introduce myself as Pochahontas...from another town.

How it go...

2008-03-24T13:56:00.000-07:00

Typical Morning: Making sure Daddy leaves as quietly as possible in the mornings, so as not to wake "the monster". If successful, Will and I "cuddlebug" for the 3 nanoseconds before Daniel's internal alarm alerts him that Mom and Will have just settled into the coziest spot in the bed. And every morning, Will, with his smidgen of inherited OCD, delivers his line with the enthusiasm of a seasoned actor: "Mommy, let's go get that baby!". And were off...our day officially begins with the squeal, or grunt, of that odd little potato across the hall...sweet, sweet, oh-so-high-maintenance-but-still-loveable-cuz-he's-our sweet, sweet Daniel!