1.  If your house has been neglected for five months because of your work schedule, spring break will be a great chance to catch up on everything from home repair to laundry.

2.  Your 12 year old daughter won’t see it that way.

3.  Though, she might surprise you halfway through break and suggest that you tear out some carpeting.

4.  Which will lead to new surprises.

5.  When you tell the cashier at the home improvement store that you don’t need help loading your car with your newly purchased sheet of plywood, be sure to take into account how windy it is.

6.  Because when the winds are 30 mph, a sheet of plywood acts like a kite and will suddenly fly you across the parking lot all while you’re trying to hold on to said enormous sheet of plywood.

7.  And you might look like a fool.

8.  But, not as much as when you drive home barely able to see above the dashboard because there is a piece of plywood directly above your head.

9.  Yet all of the carpet-cutting, hauling, loading, sawing, reinforcing and sore muscles will be totally worth it.

10.  Because your kids will see that mommies can be strong too.

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While a lot of our friends are off enjoying Florida sunshine for Spring Break, my family is planted firmly in Ohio…well, as firmly as one can plant thyself when it’s raining two inches a day.

We have been using this time to catch up on doctor’s appointments and accomplish some much needed tasks around the house.  You have beaches and sand?  We have waiting rooms and window cleaning.  So there!

Yesterday, my 12 year old daughter stumbled out of bed and declared, “We should tear out the living room carpet today.”

And because all 12 year old, sleep-deprived kids make rational declarations, I agreed.

We have been wanting to tear up the wall-to-wall carpet for years.  We had it installed in 1998, before we bought our first puppy and before we had our first child.  At that time it was a very light, off-white color.  Because, apparently, new homeowners in their late 20’s are pretty rational too.

By the time our son was born in 2002, the carpet was looking pretty bad despite bi-annual cleaning.  When our boy, the one known as Mr. Reflux, started crawling, small spots would appear everywhere from his constant battles with stomach contents.  It wasn’t pretty, people.

So, yesterday, I took the advice of the 12 year old, grabbed a crowbar, pliers (oh my, the staples!), work gloves and a box cutter and went to work on our 13′ x 23′ living room carpet.

I knew there would be spots of paint on the hardwood, because when we renovated the house we painted the ceilings last and by that time we were pretty sloppy and just wanted to be done.  But, despite the paint, I was pretty happy with the condition of the floor.

We started in one corner and by the time we reached the opposite corner of the room nearly six hours later, we were exhausted.  My arm was so tired from slicing the carpet into strips for the trash men to take that I could barely grip anything, but we saw the light at the end of the tunnel and fought through the pain in our hands, knees and backs.

Until we tore up the last piece of carpet to find this.

And, suddenly, we weren’t seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, but rather the light from the basement laundry room.

I think this looks like a good place for a plant…don’t you?

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One of the most special things about the holidays is spending time with family and, somehow, this weekend we squeezed in events with my dad and step-mom, my husband’s parents and my mom.  You want quality time with the Fali family?  We are so on it.  Especially if there will be pie.

Today, my mom’s house was filled with her famous, Lebanese lamb and rice and quite a few relatives and friends.  After dinner, we moved to her patio to enjoy a respite from the rain that has been plaguing Ohio for days (and will continue for days more).  Arizona called, she wants me.

My son was enjoying the time out of the house, running around the back yard, picking flowers and thoroughly entertaining the crowd.  It’s possible there were show tunes involved.  At one point he ran to me and jumped up on my lap.

As the group watched, my son hugged me and started to run his hand up and down my arm.  I squeezed him tight and asked, “Are you having fun, buddy?”

Then, I got the equivalent of an Easter-slap-in-the-face when he replied, “Yeah!  And, your arm is really hairy.”

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I first met Casey at a meetup in Indianapolis, in 2008.  It was April 24, 2008…almost exactly three years ago.  Funny, but it feels like I’ve known her my entire life.

She was just how I had pictured her; kind, intelligent, funny, red-headed and adorable.  She, however, was shocked that the Momo Fali she met that night wasn’t a 300 lb. Samoan.

That trip to Indianapolis turned out to be one I will never forget.  And, not in a good way.  I spent most of the evening in tears, worried sick about my son.  I will never forget getting off the phone with my husband and falling against the wall in a sloppy, sobbing heap then looking up to see Casey standing there.  The hug that she gave me, from one stranger to another, got me through the night.

I came to find out that the hug was indicative of how much Casey gives of herself.  She embodies strength, honesty and friendship and since that first meeting, I have hugged her when she cried, she hugged me when I cried AGAIN, she has seen me in my bathing suit and I have arranged the marriage of my son and her first-born child.  For real.

She has openly shared her battle with depression and has probably saved some people in the process.  I respect Casey for that and for so much more.

As she prepares for the birth of her second child, I want her to know that I’m thinking of her, I’m proud of her and I’m so glad that she’s my friend.  Pregnancy has not been easy for Casey, but she has managed to endure.

But, still…I hate her a little because next to her, I really do look like a 300 lb. Samoan.

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