Thank you Benjamin

My baby boy is 6 months away from being two today. Yes, Benjamin is one and a half today! How is that possible? That the little boy I held in my arms that was light as a feather is now 26 pounds and almost 3 feet tall.
Today, I want to thank Benjamin. I want to thank him for making me a happier person. Don't get me wrong there have been times that I have been sad during these last 18 months but unhappiness does not consume and define me. If you asked me what would make your life better, I would say not a single thing. I have the one thing that completes my family -- my Benjamin. I laugh more and enjoy life more.
With Ben, I get to be a kid again myself. I get slide, swing, run and jump more than I ever have in the last 20 years. I get to visit cool places like the zoo, Sesame Place, LOMB and Hershey and see the wonder in my child's eyes as he discovers things for the first time.
He has made me a better person. I'm not a very patient person and I tend to lose my cool on occasion but he has taught me understanding and how to take life as it comes. Life isn't perfect and we need to celebrate those imperfections.
The thing I treasure most is that he made me a mother. It is the greatest gift I could ever receive. I know I talk about things like wanting Chanel suits and Cartier watches but those things matter less to me. I would give away my Chanel bag (and if you know me you know how much I treasure that bag) and everything I own to have a million Benjamins in my life. To say I am Benjamin's mother is a privilege that I will never take for granted. He has made me realize why I was put on this earth. It was to have this child, Wally and I named Benjamin Joseph, for the world to enjoy because he is a treasure.
Thank you Benjamin for these reasons and so many more.

Good Times

Over time, the phrase "good times" has meant different things. The phrase was first uttered after a few chicken wings and Miller Lites were being shared at our former apartment in Clifton. That night, Kristi and Wally had a few more drinks than Michael and I, and when Wally asked Kristi what we should toast to she said, "good times!" Wally clanked her bottle and repeated, "yeah, to good times!" And thus, good times was born.

The Kamienski and the Valentins have had many a good time together but over the years the phrase and the meaning has changed. On a beautiful sunny day in August, the Valentin Family and Kamienskis headed out early for a day at the Bronx zoo. At approximately 8:35 am, we headed over to Union to pick up Kristi, Mike and Michael for a day of fun. However, when we arrived we had to make the transfer to the car very quick since Valentin's neighbor that I tapped with my car who allegedly had over $600 in damage on her 89 Pathfinder was sitting on her front porch. Besides that, it was a smooth journey into the city. Michael and I sat in the back reviewing all the photos and memories from their 3 week road trip. We asked Uncle Wally to turn the volume up on the radio several times so we can enjoy the tunes but he was being difficult and raised it ever so slightly (what a grandma!). Aunt Kristi, entertained Benjamin with his new Click the Camera they purchased for him on their trip.

When we arrive at the Zoo, it was 10am on the dot (the exact time the zoo opens its gates). The families were primed for an adventure. Until...the 14 year old behind the register made us pay for a senior ticket when we only needed a FREE infant pass. By the way, we all look good for ages and there was no mistaking anyone for a senior. Ok back to the story. We then had to wait around for about 15 minutes until the 16 year old manager could reimburse Mike's card. Wally was going to run after her and read her the riot act until he thought better of it. With the past behind us and Mike's card $23 dollars richer again, we started our journey.

Our first stop were the seals then on to the monkey house. Ben and Michael were having a blast enjoying all the varieties of primates. Next we moved on to the Madagascar exhibit were we learned about lemurs and were able to climb inside a tree filled with hissing cockroaches (note I did not climb in the tree). Aunt Kristi showed Benjamin all the animals that burrow in trees including millipedes and some sort of rodent. Ben liked the display so much he wanted to open up the flap on the tree to no end, eventually, we had to divert his attention to a new attraction.

Wally that day took the lead and acted as tour guide keeping us on a very tight schedule in order that we could experience all the zoo had to offer. At times, this "guidance" was a little annoying, especially when we were only allowed to view certain animals for brief moments. Wally had us all so in line that Little Mike picked up the act and became junior tour guide and was heard telling the rest of the group, "let's continue" while opening the door or walking to the next exhibit. However, thanks to Wally and Little Mike keeping us in line, we were able to see almost every inch of the zoo (except for the World of Darkness and Birds of the World -- I did not shed a tear over this nor did anyone else, however, Little Mike did remind Uncle Wally he said we could see the elephants on the way out and we blew past them). We saw giraffes, gorillas, elephants, tigers, horses, lots of frogs, seals, camels, goats, otters, wild dogs, zebras, bears, butterflies -- a complete menagerie -- you name an animal we probably saw it! We even got to the Children's Zoo (the one Wally didn't think we needed to go but admitted to me that it was one of his favorite stops) where the boys were able to act like prairie dogs and climb trees and feed the animals. Also in the Children's Zoo Ben and I got to slide down the giant tree and Wally and Mike got to act like giant turtles. We were there from the opening to the close and not a word of complaint from either of the boys -- they were angels!

After the zoo, we headed to a wonderful restaurant on Tremont Avenue in the Bronx. Now.. Wally and I thought, "what are we in for here" but Mike was right it was fantastic! As the drinks were set on the table, we knew what we would toast to - there was no other way to describe it ...'Good Times'.

Please Vote

As many of you already know, my father was recently diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease. It has been a heartbreaking journey for the whole family.

Our family believes that this disease touches all of us -- not only does my Dad suffer from the disease his whole family, in essence, has the disease as well.

The most frustrating thing about PD is that are no reasons why one person gets it and the other doesn't, and more importantly, there is no cure.

If you have ever had someone you love suffer from a disease, you know how helpless you feel at times. I know this is something little but it could lead to amazing things. My son is living proof that miracles do happen so let's create another miracle in this world. American Express is awarding one worthy project 2.5 million dollars. The winning project is selected by the people (i.e. you and me) so I urge everyone to take the time and PLEASE, PLEASE vote for this project focusing on curing PD.

There are a number of very worthy projects on the list but this one is the that is most important to me that affects one of the most important people in the world to me, and I hope there are others that will feel the same. If you do anything for me in my life, I ask that you vote for this project. Thank you for your continued love and support on this journey.

An annual rite of passage

(To all faithful Kamienski Blog readers, this posting is brought to you by Wally)
Now that I have successfully scared the great majority of you away from this site and possibly off of the internet althogether, I would like to share some information that may and should possibly be kept confidential so I ask that you sign the non-disclosure agreement attached directly below. Anyway, all poorly designed joking references to legal documents aside, and onto the story at hand.

Every year for the past 10 years or so and without fail, Jenn and I have each taken turns waking up on a work day and asking the other "Want to play hookey today?" While invariably the first response will usually be "I'd love to", usually that is followed with "if I didn't have a meeting today" or "if I didn't have to deal with this _____". Fill in the name of a project or some individual or group of individuals that shall be known as "clusterbomb" or something like that.

Well, a few weeks ago, Jenn was the one waking up looking to play hookey. This time, it was decided a little differently. Having a somewhat busy workday planned, I initially relucted because some stuff couldn't wait. Then, in the shower, it came to me. Or actually it didn't. When I went to load the shaving cream in my hand to shave (I do on Mondays and Thursdays only, a story for another day) nothing came out. It was empty. As I was thinking how I was going to shave without my trusty Edge Gel, it came to. F shaving. I'm playing hookey!

Since it was a Thursday and Jenn technically does not work on Thursdays, both of us didnt have to come up with a fake cough, only I did. Once placed with just the right amount fake scratchy throat on my bosses voicemail, we were off to Point Pleasant Beach.

We packed up Ben's necessities (half a car full of toys, food, change of clothes, towels, etc.) and were there in no time. Once parked across from Jenkinson's, I changed into my bathing suit in the front seat of our car, Jenn loaded Ben up with the SPF 50 and we hit the beach. It's official.

The snob that I try to be, it was quickly noted to Jenn that the beach itself (and the crowd at the beach) differs greatly from that which I am accostomed at LBI. No wavy white sand and no Ward and June with 2.3 kids. Instead, pleanty of fake Gucci shades, tramp stamps and wife beaters. Put simply, the crowd at the Point is about as sketchy as a police composite of an armed suspect seen leaving a Denny's.

Jokes about the crowd aside, Ben, Jenn and I had a blast during our "day off". I recommend to anyone reading this to take a day one of these days and just get out and do something. Whethere its all day in the ocean, on the boardwalk, on the rides and eating a $6 bucket of french fries with your kid, it will always beat a day at the office.

I'm Sorry

Sometimes my hormones get the best of me. Yes, I will admit I can sometimes be a hormonal woman. Am I setting back the woman's movement by saying this? I doubt it but I do have a very good excuse -- I have a condition called endometriosis that causes me to get my periods for very greater lengths of time, more severe and more often. So in essence, I have every right to be a moody bitch. However, last night, my unsuspecting husband got the brunt end of my wrath.
I was in the mood for dessert (so was he) and it was around 9:00 p.m. The Creamery was closed but Bonte was scheduled to be open until 11. He volunteered to make the dessert run. He came back a little grumbly himself because roads were closed off and Bonte was closed (no sweet delicious waffles I had been dreaming of since he stepped out the door). After dreaming of the waffle treat, I was put into a bit of a mood. Next, Wally microwaved my ice cream -- which I HATE -- and served it with oatmeal cookies (which aren't my favorite either). At that point, I was down right pissed and I let him know about it. Don't get me wrong I still ate it but I wasn't very happy. Either was Wally after I let him have it.
Today, I would like to say I'm sorry. Yes, it is in black-and-white so Wally you can never say, "you never say your sorry Jennifer." Wally I am sorry for being a bitch last night you didn't deserve it after you got out of your comfy chair and put on shoes to go to a shop that wasn't even open and head to another store while taking a detour and coming home to make the dessert only to have your wife make nasty comments. Savor this moment because I don't admit when I am wrong too often.

This is 911. Is there an emergency?

While I was not present for the events that are about to be described, I can attest to the fact that this is a true story.

Benjamin's latest obsession is the phone. If we even attempt to use our cell phones, especially Wally's, Benjamin will yell until we surrender our phones to him (I'm sure there is a parenting lesson in there about how we shouldn't give our child everything he wants but that is not the point of the story at this time). He has dialed countless friends of Wally's and wrong numbers from the backseat of the car. Recently, he started picking up the house phone and dialing numbers. He not only does this in our home. He also pulls this move at my parent's house. On one such occasion, my brother, a law enforcement official, warned my mother that she shouldn't let him play with the phone in fear that he might dial 911 one day. I think we all thought, "that will never happen" until one day it did...

Last Wednesday, Wally caught Benjamin playing with the phone. When he was about to take it from him, he heard someone on the other line. "Hello this is 911. Is there an emergency?" Wally responded, "No, not at all. My one year old dialed 911 by accident. Sorry for the inconvenience." 911, "are you sure there isn't a problem?" Wally, "yes, I am sure. Thank you." Wally laughed to himself and then had a real emergency on his hands -- a poopy filled diaper. As he was changing the diaper, he heard someone in the foyer. Was someone in the house? "This is the Morristown police department someone here called 911." Wally once again chuckled at the absurdity of the situation and said, "I'm glad you are here," which then made the police officer alarmed, "you are glad I'm here?!" Wally then didn't want a nervous officer with a gun in his house said, "I will be right down to explain." After explaining the situation to the cop, she left satisfied with his story and saw that Ben was in capable hands.

First, Wally and I have to give a kudos to the Morristown police department for showing up so quickly after the call was made. The promptness of their response made us feel safe knowing they are out there protecting us. Second, lesson learned. Wally and I need to keep the phone away from Ben (as much as we humanely can) Third, while you can say it was a fluke that Benjamin dialed 911, I am feel good that my son, if I am out cold on the basement floor after falling down the steps (I have this weird thing that I am going to fall down the basement steps one day and no one will be there to save me) he can dial the police to rescue his Mommy.

Who You Calling Ma'am?

When did I get old? When did I start to become a ma'am? I remember the first time I went from being a miss to a ma'am. I was at the local supermarket and some snot nosed kid (I'm sure he was a very lovely child and wasn't the snot aged anymore) asked me, "ma'am do you want your receipt in the bag?" I felt like someone punched me in the stomach. My first response was to be, "I don't really care what you do with the receipt! More importantly, do I look like a ma'am to you? I am young, beautiful and vivacious! Don't EVER call me ma'am!" However, I just said, quite meekly, "yes" and slumped away completely depressed. Over the next year, I was called "ma'am" more often. When I hear miss now, I think what did I do different today? Did I get more sleep? Did I wear my hair a certain way that makes me look younger? Pathetic, right?

I brought the subject up to my friends first by saying, "did I get really old looking?" Of course, my dear friends say, "no". Then I say, "why does everyone call me ma'am now?!" That is when Jennifer said the most brilliant thing, "the reason why we are being called ma'am now is not because we look older is because we command respect." "We have a presence about us that is not childish and silly and Miss just wouldn't do." Yes, I do command respect and I do carry myself in way that gives people a sense that I am confident in who I am (even if I'm not always feeling that way).

Over the "ladies weekend" and after contemplating Jennifer's words, we took this picture and I looked at it and thought if this is what ma'ams looks like I'll take being a ma'am any day of the week!