dimplecheek

The Crazy Fire Lady (Part 2)

2011-05-21T08:50:00.000-07:00

I have re-written this post several times. I have struggled with sharing the story, since it involves other people as well. As you read this, please remember that I can only share this experience from my perspective. I have no intentions of making my judgments yours or harming any one's reputation or character.

When I contacted the Fire Chief to express my concerns, he suggested that I talk to the local firefighters union president. Firefighters are city employees and what I took away from our correspondence was that a conflict of interest existed for city employees to help "fight" a city policy. He also shared that he felt the only thing that could keep the station from closing at this point would be public pleas to our city council.

I met with the Local IAFF president at a Starbucks early one morning after he finished his 24 hour shift at 7am. Another concerned resident of my neighborhood was there to meet him as well. I was not aware he was going to be there, so I was pleased I was not alone in my concerns with closing the fire station.

At this meeting, I learned that the City had also shut down 2 rescue units from another station in town a few months ago. I had no idea that had happened. Like many of us, I didn't pay much attention to my local government or politics. I could have walked past a city council member in the grocery store and not had a clue who it was. I always voted, read the paper but never really concentrated on the local level. I felt ashamed. How could I have not have even heard of this? I guess I could say it takes a lot of time and effort to raise a child, be a good wife and make the mortgage payment every month. I still felt ashamed at my apathy. I suggested we hold a rally in front of the fire station to get some attention to the pending closure. The union president said he could provide a few signs and could alert the news media of the rally. The other resident suggested a petition be circulated. We decided I would organize the rally and he would organize the petition.

I created the Facebook page "Save Fire Station 6 - Vancouver, WA" and listed contact information for the Mayor and City Council and urged people to contact them and attend the rally. (Today, 596 people have "liked" that page and receive updates.) I printed a one page flyer that stated the fire station was being closed due to budget cuts and urged people to contact our mayor and city council members, join our Facebook page and attend the coming rally in front of the fire station. Over 2,500 copies were hand delivered to the homes that Station 6 protected. Momentum increased and eventually we formed a PAC (political action committee) Friends of Fire Station 6. To this day, I still believe that it should not take a PAC to ensure government uses our tax dollars to provide core public safety services. It was an election year though, and getting politicians involved meant getting press and getting the word out to more people.

Now that we had a plan, I started to do some research on our fire department. The more research I did, the more shocked I became. Each new fact about our fire department was more disturbing than the last one. I discovered that our fire department was already staffed at half of what other cities our size in the state are. Insurance rates were virtually guaranteed to go up (as they had 8 years ago) due to the number of firefighters on duty. I learned that our fire department was WELL below the National and State guidelines for response times and staffing. I learned that these were only guidelines so that every local fire department could best determine their own needs and develop a "Standards of Coverage" of their own. I discovered that our fire department had drafted several Standards of Coverage over the years and not a single one had ever been presented to our city council.

"Well, all of that explains it", I thought. The city council members do not know any of these facts. They have never even seen a Standards Of Coverage to know how dismal our fire department is already. If they knew, there is no way they would consider cutting it even more. So, off I went to a city council meeting.

Our city council had (yes, had - a long story) a citizens communication (or CitCom) at the end of every council meeting for citizens to address the council. CitCom is televised to local viewers and although today I can say that I regularly laugh while watching, I was very intimidated at the thought of speaking there the first time. First, you know you are on live television. Aside from the does this shirt make me look fatter or do I have a booger hanging from my nose issues, you are standing at a podium under bright lights and facing 7 people in suits seated behind a long curved desk. I was sitting in the audience waiting for my turn to speak thinking about how I was going to put aside my insecurities and manage to say something half way intelligent so they would listen. The speaker at the podium's subject was tolls and the I-5 bridge crossing. Like I said before, it was a hot topic. Things turned very ugly while he was speaking. A council member began shouting at the speaker as well as the mayor and then she got up and walked out the room. (The video of this became a YouTube hit and eventually this incident was brought before an ethics committee and the council member was stripped of her board seats.) The speaker left the podium and then the mayor grabbed the next card and called my name out to come up and speak. I stood up and said, "Oh yeah, I get to follow that guy" and "Is she coming back?" on my way to the podium. I believe I nervously communicated what I had intended to, but obviously no one was really focused on what I was saying. All thoughts were on the huge bomb that had just exploded. Imagine my shock when I found myself sitting at the next table from the speaker at a local restaurant the next night. I learned a lot eavesdropping on his conversation.

Despite the rough start, I continued to go back and speak to the council over then next few months. The vote on the budget that would close the fire station was looming and I had to let them know what was going on. I had to find a "win" for them in keeping that station open. Let me say this though. Even though many people disagree with closing a fire station, most of them are not willing to go before the council and speak. I have talked to so many passionate people who find the process too intimidating or their schedules too busy. Some did go before the council as well, but mostly it was my face they saw before them in those months. At some point, I was afraid if mine was the only voice they heard, I would be viewed as "The Crazy Fire Lady" and the message would get lost.

The Crazy Fire Lady (Part One)

2011-04-28T16:27:00.000-07:00

Wow. How is it possible I have neglected this blog for so long? Well, it all started last July...

I came home one evening and saw on the local news that they were planning on closing a fire station. "What?", I said to myself. "How could anyone ever even think that that would be the way to save money?" Then, they showed the station and I realized it was MY fire station. The crew from that station had responded so quickly the morning my mom had a heart attack. I saw them all the time in my neighborhood on calls or shopping for groceries right next to me at the Safeway.

Our City Council was having a town hall meeting the following week, so I decided to go and let them know that this was just outrageous. Somewhere in my mind, I thought it had to be a mistake or a political ploy or something. Seriously? Who would balance a budget by closing a fire station? Wouldn't that be political suicide for any politician? Does anyone remember the footage of the World Trade Centers on 9-11? It hasn't even been 10 years since the nation mourned those 343 firefighters who rushed in to save strangers and perished alongside them.

When John and I walked into the school auditorium for the town hall gathering, we were met with a large, angry crowd, most of whom had a "NO TOLLS!" sign in their hand. They were angry it seems because our Mayor had campaigned on a no tolls platform the past November and had just stated that it appeared tolls would be necessary to build a new bridge across the Columbia River into Portland (the I-5 bridge). Well, he won the election over the incumbent and now these folks felt cheated. Every question was about the bridge and tolls. John nudged me and said, "Stand up and talk - even if it isn't about tolls." Thanks to John, I did.

Imagine my shock when 6 of the 7 members of the council spoke to me about "what a hard decision closing the station was but it was necessary to keep other services from being cut completely". Now, I was not only baffled, but royally pissed off. What other service is higher on the list than our firefighters? That night I found out that not only were they planning on closing the fire station, they were going to eliminate 13 firefighter positions and 21 police officers from the force. I left that town hall meeting full of anger, disgust and determination and I didn't even have a clue that my life had just changed forever.

First Day of Kindergarten

2010-06-25T10:35:00.000-07:00

Monday was Robby's first day of Kindergarten! Our daycare has an accredited Kindergarten program and Robby moved into that class. This will be Teacher Susan's fourth year teaching Kindergarten and she comes highly recommended. Transistioning him into the new class now will give him a few months to acclamate to new schedule before the curriculm starts in the fall. There will be twenty or fewer kids in his class so he will get a lot of individual attention. He turns five next month, making him one of the younger kids in the class.

Our school district only offers Kindergarten two half days a week and one addtional half day every other week. Driving him to school, then going to work, then picking him up at school and taking him to daycare, then going to work, then picking him up at daycare just doesn't fit into our schedule. At our assigned public school, some Kindergarteners didn't attend one single day last November due to holidays and teacher in service days. I am really disappointed in our school district for cutting Kindergarten to make the budget. I can think of so many things that should be in line for elimination before Kindergarten hours.

Robby woke up so excited and said, "Mama, did you forget today is my first day of Kindergarten?" He has a new backpack his grandma bought him this weekend and is so proud. John and I dropped him off together this morning. His classroom is in a historic old building and so charming and inviting. It's simply a great place to go to school. Robby is LOVING every second of it. He actually was upset when it was time to go home yesterday aternoon.

At his first birthday party I remember thinking that if I didn't give him his cake, he wouldn't be one and I could hold on to my baby just a little longer. I had those same feelings this morning. If we don't get out the door, he won't be a big school kid and I can hang on to my preschooler a little bit longer. It's gone by so fast and these little moments are the big milestones. I want to slow it all down so I can cherish them as long as possible.

Squeaky Cheese

2010-06-21T13:40:00.001-07:00

For Father's Day we headed out to the Oregon Coast to explore. We started out at Cape Meares Lighthouse. It's one of nine lighthouses on the Oregon Coast. There is an amazing view from this lighthouse. We saw a bald eagle perched on a rock just offshore who later was tormenting seagulls along the cliffs. This is one of the shortest lighthouses. It sits atop a high cliff bluff at 217 feet above the ocean.

You may notice some of the glass panels look milky white. That's because in January someone shot the glass panels and damaged them and the light itself. It will cost half a million dollars to repair the lighthouse.

The lighthouse keepers washed the glass panes and polished all the brass every single day.

The lighthouse was decommissioned in 1963. Seven of the nine lighthouses on the Oregon Coast are still in use though. Today, an automated beacon with a GPS is used. (See the picture of the ugly concrete building below.)

This is a "modern lighthouse". Not so pretty.

Close by is the Octopus Tree.

It's estimated to be 250-300 years old. The debate rages on if it is a result of nature or if Native Americans formed the tree this way as it was growing for tribal rituals. I think it's really got an octopus inside of it.

Next we headed to Tillamook, Oregon to the Tillamook Cheese Factory. John and I have been here several times over the years and really enjoyed it. We wanted Robby to see them making the cheese and have the best soft serve ice cream we've ever eaten.

They've changed to visitor's center since we were last there. It's a lot more self-guided tour like. You can still look down at the processing floor and see vats of cheese in the making and cheese blocks moving along conveyor belts. Robby really thought this was cool. After looking at the processing floor, you can sample cheeses they make. God I love cheese.

Squeaky Cheese (or cheese curds) are always a favorite. They have a ton of them and they are cheap here. If you don't know why they call it squeaky cheese, try some and discover the squeaking sounds coming from your mouth as you chew.

They no longer have soft serve ice cream there. Once we picked ourselves off the floor from that disappointment we noticed they have every kind of ice cream Tillamook makes at their new ice cream stand. We each got ourselves a cone and sat down to enjoy. Tillamook makes a great tasting, quality ice cream. I highly recommend it.

We headed back home to have dinner and get ready for Monday, the first day of Kindergarten!

It was an amazing day and one of the best Father's Days I can remember in a long time.

Typical Morning Conversation

2010-06-16T14:46:00.001-07:00

Robby: Dad, there's a spider in the car.

John: Is it a big spider or a little spider?

Robby: If it was a big spider I'd be talking a lot louder.

Coming Around Again

2010-06-14T14:06:00.000-07:00

I have not posted in 6 months! How did this happen? I blame a WET spring, LOST, one of the best Survivor seasons ever, moving my mother TWICE and a general laziness on my part.

Mom and I took Robby fishing this past weekend for the first time. It was free fishing weekend in Oregon and we went to the Bonneville Dam Fish Hatchery. They hosted a fishing clinic on Saturday. Kids got to fish for free. Robby had to go to seven stations to learn all about fish, water safety and taking care of the watershed. The kids four and under got to fish in the big bins and the kids five and older got to fish in their stock ponds. Robby got two rainbow trout and was so excited you could actual feel it in the air around you.

Yeah, I caught two fish, Mama. I'm super cool!

He was so proud too!

I was amazed once again at the parents I saw. Twice Robby was pushed by an adult so that they could get in front of him. It reminded me of the Easter Egg Hunt a few years ago where all the adults rushed out to "help" their kids find eggs. Adults were grabbing eggs with two hands and most of the kids (including mine) didn't get to pick up one single egg and put it in their basket. Aren't these things supposed to be about the kids having fun? I don't get it. Those fish were not going anywhere. A grown man who pushes a four year old boy out of the way so he can see a trout before him deserves to be punched in the face. Period.

I remember catching my first fish. I caught four catfish! My great grandfather was there, as well as my grandparents. It was just outside of Parks, Arizona where my grandparents had an acre of land where we would spent our weekends escaping the heat of Phoenix. My grandma got an old curtain rod and hung them out on it so I could hold those four catfish up for a picture. I can still see that picture in my mind. I was wearing a striped shirt and I didn't wear glasses yet. My hair back in a ponytail. I remember how my grandmother looked taking that picture. She told me once to be still and NOT MOVE while she was taking my picture or she would CUT MY HEAD OFF. She meant cut my head off in the picture, but I took her literally. She never took one single blurry picture of me in my life as a result of that.

Robby got to share catching his first fish with his grandma just like I did. That should fill my heart with a sense of happiness and wonder at the circle of life. It does fill my heart - almost completely. I admit, part of the day I spent reflecting on how my grandmother missed this moment. She missed it not because she is dead, but because she has chosen to miss it. I tell that little girl inside me she missed it because she is sick. Dementia is so cruel not only to those whose brain it consumes but to the people around them who lose them and are robbed of those last years together. I tried to stay in the moment and be grateful that I got to spend the day with my son and my mother, but that little girl with the ponytail kept thinking about how her Nanny should be here to see this too.

Goodness Sakes!

2010-01-25T15:21:00.000-08:00

Robby has attended daycare/preschool since he was a little over a year old. It was one of the hardest things for me to go back to work and not be a stay at home working mom. I'm lucky, as I own my own business and have some flexibility with hours. I know not every woman is so fortunate.

As you know, we switched schools about seven months ago. I have to say that I love this new school so much and I think we made the right choice. He has two certified teachers with him all day now and - get this - one of them is a man. This is the first time I had run across a male teacher in a preschool. Teacher Mike is incredible! Last week, the kids were lining up in the hall to go outside and one little boy was yelling and excited. Teacher Mike said, "Excuse me! Are you physically in pain?" "No." the little boy said. "Is the building on fire?" he asked. "No." the little boy said. "Did you just see Elvis?" Teacher Mike asked. "No." the boy said again. "Then there is no reason to be yelling in the hall!" Teacher Mike laughed. He is great with the kids and they adore him. He tells Robby he loves him when Robby leaves to go home every night.

The school also has a live webcam in all the rooms and playground. I can log in during the day and actually see Robby. That's been wonderful!

I guess my only complaint I have about the current school is security. Yeah, that's a big one. They have an electronic key system. Parents are given a card that will open the door when the card is placed in front of a sensor. The school policy is that if you lose your card, you pay a $10 replacement fee. Over the past few weeks I noticed that most parents do not use cards. They knock on the door until someone answers it. I've seen parents hold the door open for people that they do not know. They let strangers (without any kids with them) into the building without a thought. When this happens to me I always get a teacher and let the teacher let them in. I endure the glares and dirty looks from parents I don't know. I cannot for the life of me understand why they would be upset another parent is thinking about security in a building where their kids are.

I wrote Dumbledore (director of the school) an email letting her know that this was happening. I told her I felt it was a tragedy waiting to happen. I offered to help her find a solution at no or little cost. She responded with a one line email that said she would write a note to parents and thanks for my goodness.

Goodness? I see no goodness in wanting to make my kid and all the kids there safe. When you look at a mama bear growling to protect her cub, "goodness" is not what comes to mind.
She wrote a note to parents about 3 days later. A new note is posted on the door telling parents not to let anyone in they do not know. At least she did something.

Robby is downstairs in the school; far away from the front door. If he was in one of the upstairs rooms by the front door I probably would have pulled him out of the school.

Let's hope some things change now and every parent thinks about the security of their child rather than being late to work or getting home to cook dinner.

Five Things

2010-01-11T15:29:00.001-08:00

Five things that bother me more than they should (in no particular order):

Stuffed animals in the back window of cars. I don't understand this. I've seen 30 or more sun-faded little animals on top of the back seat of many cars. Why?
Cabinet doors that are left open.
Toilet paper coming from the bottom of the roll instead of the top. I have been know to change the roll in other people's homes.
When I go to use 3 tab position file folders and someone has used all of the right position tab folders leaving only center and left tab position folders. Why don't they package these already collated?
Socks that are for shoe sizes 9 or less. That's all you can buy if you are a woman. Someone could make a million dollars marketing socks for women whose shoe size is 10 or higher.

True Colors

2009-12-15T22:00:00.000-08:00

My Grandfather served in the army in WWII. He worked on the tarmac directing planes to and from the hangars. Well, he did this until they discovered he was "color-blind" and could not tell the red lights from the green lights. To his credit, the story goes he managed his duties a long while before anyone caught on.

My Grandfather had a form of red-green color deficiency that is carried with the x chromosome. Women ( xx) get this defective x chromosome but have a another "good" x to compensate for the "bad" one and are not effected. Men (xy) only get the defective x. Here's a link describing the whole process.

My Grandfather (xy) passed his color-blind x chromosome down to my mother (xx), who in turn gave one of them to me (xx) and one to my self-proclaimed "color-retarded" brother (xy). A few weeks ago we confirmed that I passed down one on my color-blind x chromosomes to Robby (xx). It's the gift that keeps on giving!

Robby can see red (in its purest form) with little problem, while my brother cannot. Robby cannot see green all the time. I have a feeling green and brown are two different names for the same color to him. Blue, orange, yellow, black and white he can see. Purple? Don't even go there! Orange causes occasional problems. When colors stray into shades and pastels they often get lost in translation to Robby.

Above is an Ishihara plate used to test for color-blindness. People without color deficiency see the number 8 while people with red-green deficiencies see the number 3 because they cannot differentiate between the green and brown circles.

Here, the majority of observers with red-green deficiencies see the number 73. The majority of observers with normal color vision see nothing at all! This is because normals' sense of color is actually masking the subtle brightness differences which color deficient observers use to see the number.

An example of how a person with a red-green color deficiency sees:

Robby can see reds, but the green and browns look a lot alike. Here's a great example from The Colorblind Photographer's website. Now I get why Robby's favorite color is yellow.

Something Big Was Gone

2009-11-16T14:15:00.000-08:00

My friend lost her father last week, after an unexpected and cruel illness. He walked me down the aisle at my wedding, raised one hell of a woman and always made me laugh. I will miss him and I know he's somewhere causing trouble and getting a lot of laughs. I hope I can get my friend to come play on the swing set soon.

They say you can't take it with you, but I think that they're wrong

'Cause all I know is I woke up this morning, and something big was gone

Gone into that dark ether where you're still young and hard and cold.

Just like when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

- Springsteen

Rest in Peace, El Greato.

H1N1? R2D2?

2009-11-10T09:43:00.000-08:00

When Robby was about 18 months old we went to Arizona to spend Christmas with my family. Two days before we left for the trip he went to the pediatrician and he got his first flu shot. Within 12 hours of landing in Arizona he was already showing flu symptoms and by the second day there we were at an urgent care in a strange city seeking help. He had never been that sick. He had fever, chapped face, congestion and double ear infections.

I was convinced it was the flu shot that had made him sick. I was still convinced when our pediatrician insisted that the shot did not make him sick. That feeling I get at my core, my "mama sense" just knew that flu shot did not go well with my kid. I know my son better than anyone, even if I don't have a medical degree. I know that anyone who has had a child develop autism after a vaccination will understand that statement. John, and most members of his family, have all gotten the flu right after receiving a flu shot. Not every child reacts well.

When I read Jenny McCarthy's book, it moved me beyond words. I believe in vaccinations and Robby has received all of his vaccinations. People who do not vaccinate their children rely on the rest of the world to vaccinate theirs, preventing an outbreak where their child would be vulnerable. When a mother says that her child was completely fine and then after a vaccine unable to communicate and the light was gone from their eyes I believe her. Completely.
More research needs to be done. I can understand the CDC does not want mass hysteria to stop parents from vaccinating their children. Clearly, the greater harm lies in not vaccinating. But when the CDC flat out discounts these mother's feelings and stories, I call bullshit. As a parent, I reject recommendations being presented as facts. Give me the facts, then give me your recommendations. Help me by giving me the information I need to make a decision for my child.
Telling me what to do while not giving me all the information is manipulation.

Has anyone else noticed how swine flu has become H1N1? Suddenly the media is only using H1N1 when referring to this strain of flu. I can't help but wonder why and how this all came about. There is a short supply of this vaccine and everyone is scrambling to get one. I have to ask myself if this "shortage" and the coverage of it was planned. In our area, there are long lines of people lining up outside of clinics that announce it has the vaccination available. I've seen news footage of it here locally and in other parts of the country. I went with my mother to her cardiology appointment and when she asked if she should get a flu shot her doctor said that she most likely could not get one as even he and his colleagues at the hospital could not due to the shortage.

I try not to be a conspiracy theory lunatic (like my husband). At the same time, I don't want to be a sheep either. Clorox and Lysol are even using this flu scare to sell more of their products. I can't wait to see what other ways this flu scare will influence advertising. So much media input is bound to influence us in some way. I've actually decided against indoor public playgrounds for a while. I use hand sanitizer more. People have gotten ill. People have died. I don't want my child to get this flu. No of us do.

Ultimately, the decision whether or not to get a flu shot for your child falls to you, the parent. More than one parent has asked me what my decision is. I've told them that we decided against a flu shot but that they should get as much information as they can and make the decision they feel is right for their child. I tell them to get as much information as they can. Here is what the CDC says. I also tell them not to buy into the guilt either way. If they do not get a flu shot and their child develops flu, don't blame yourself. If you do give your child a flu shot and they get sick, don't blame yourself. Easier said than done.

Shame on Maine!!!

2009-11-05T14:57:00.000-08:00

This is why the Founding Fathers insisted on separation of church from state. This is how this country was founded. They left England for this very reason.

I do not feel secure in my freedom, my basic rights or my child's future today. I am mad and I am scared. I think you should be too.

Equal rights, for all. PERIOD. Let's evolve as a society. Don't you people watch Star Trek?

If you think that these religious leaders are doing anything but selling fear and hate all tied up with a pretty red bow that says "Jesus" on it, you need to pay attention because they will come after you next. They've already started coming for women and their rights. All in the name of God.

And what about the children you say? Read this. I can't say it any better.

Please. Please. PLEASE! Do something today. Talk about this with someone; with everyone!
The time has come. Let's take the gloves off and stand for what is right and what this country was meant to be. My child, your child, their children all deserve the best world we can give them. If you can stop using Styrofoam, you can at least quit buying into all the hate and fear!

Spies Like Us

2009-11-02T08:38:00.001-08:00

(This adorable picture of Robby all dressed up and ready to go trick-or-treating will hopefully make up for the next picture you will see.)

Every year my brother, Uncle Mike, and his lovely wife Aunt Jeanette throw the most amazing Halloween party. Every year gets better and better and the decorations gets more elaborate every year. This year, the bathroom had an evil clown theme that will give me many nightmares in the coming months. Uncle Mike LOVES zombies. In fact, one of Robby's first words was BRAINS! in a monsterly voice. I knew our costumes had to be worthy of this party because this is the guy who would be hosting:

Again, I apologize. Note the bloody mouth from the blood capsules. Like I said, NIGHTMARES!

I started making costumes for The Papa and I a week before the party. With my schedule, this is serious planning. I paper mache'd and glued myself into a frenzy most nights. I want to go on record right now that black duct taped saved the costumes and my life. Thank you black duct tape!

Can you guess the costume? First the props:

And then...

Next...

Then...

Make this!

SPY VS SPY !!!

John was the black spy and I was the white spy. We had a great time at the party, mostly because it is hard to eat bloody fingers and drink ghoul punch with a big cone on your face.

We're Starting Up a Brand New Day

2009-10-27T10:18:00.000-07:00

Today, I will marry the man I love more than life...for the second time. Having looked at life without him I have found the one reason that makes all of the pain, all the tears shed and all of the voices that cry "don't" seem diminished. I am following my heart and choosing to live a life full of all the love I can stand. It's a leap of faith and those I have taken in the past have made me stronger and more whole. I don't want to spend my life in a bubble.

I want more than just a dream to tell.

Your thoughts, prayers, friendship, happiness and love are welcome to join us in this...

Brand New Day

How many of you people out there
Been hurt in some kind of love affair?
And how many times did you swear
That you'd never love again?
How many lonely, sleepless nights?
How many lies, how many fights?
And why would you want to
Put yourself through all of that again?

"Love is pain," I hear you say
Love has a cruel and bitter way of
Paying you back for all the faith you ever had in your brain
How could it be that what you need the most
Can leave you feeling just like a ghost?
You never want to feel so sad and lost again

One day you could be looking
Through an old book in rainy weather
You see a picture of her smiling at you
When you were still together
Or you could be walking down the street
And who should you chance to meet
But that same old smile you've been thinking of all day?

Why don't we turn the clock to zero, honey
I'll sell the stock, we'll spend all the money
We're starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock all the way back
I wonder if she'll take me back
I'm thinking in a brand new way

Turn the clock to zero, sister
You'll never know how much I missed her
I'm starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock to zero, boss
The river's wide, we'll swim across
We're starting up a brand new day

It could happen to you,
Just like it happened to me,
There's simply no immunity
There's no guarantee.
I say love's such a force if you find yourself in it
You need some time for reflection
You say, baby wait a minute, wait a minute
Wait a minute, wait a minute
Wait a minute, wait a minute

Turn the clock to zero, honey
I'll sell the stock, we'll spend all the money
We're starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock to zero, Mac
I'm begging her to take me back
I'm thinking in a brand new way

Turn the clock to zero, boss
The river's wide, we'll swim across
We're starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock to zero buddy
Don't wanna be no fuddy duddy
Started up a brand new day

I'm the rhythm in your tune
I'm the sun and you're the moon
I'm the bat and you're the cave
You're the beach and I'm the wave
I'm the plow and you're the land
You're the glove and I'm the hand
I'm the train and you're the station
I'm a flagpole to your nation - yeah

Stand up all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted every boy and every girl
Stand up all you lovers in the world
Starting up a brand new day

I'm the present to your future
You're the wound and I'm the suture
You're the magnet to my pole
I'm the devil in your soul
You're the pupil I'm the teacher
You're the church and I'm the preacher
You're the flower I'm the rain
You're the tunnel I'm the train

Stand up all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted every boy and every girl
Stand up all you lovers in the world
Starting up a brand new day

You're the crop to my rotation
You're the sum of my equation
I'm the answer to your question
If you follow my suggestion
We can turn this ship around
We'll go up instead of down
You're the pan and I'm the handle
You're the flame and I'm the candle

Stand up all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted every boy and every girl
Stand up all you lovers in the world
We're starting up a brand new day
- Sting

Little House on the Cul De Sac

2009-10-25T12:30:00.001-07:00

Last Sunday we went to the Mt. View Orchard in Hood River, Oregon. We decided to pick us some apples and pears and can them. It was a beautiful drive with all the fall colors out in full force. The Columbia Gorge is amazing anytime of the year and something you really should see if you are in the area.
Mt. View Orchard and Fruit Stand is an amazing place. The owners are nice and helpful. You can pick your own fruit or just fill up boxes from the what seems like hundreds of bins already packed with picked fruit. I never knew there were so many varieties of apples and pears!

Robby insisted we pick our own, so we were off to the orchard. There were plenty of trees with apples low enough for him to reach.

They had a mini play area for the kids, but wouldn't let us take the John Deere out to the orchard.
It didn't matter, we had a wagon, a box and a little four year old who was as excited as I've seen him.

We moved from tree to tree and got at least four different varieties of apples into our box.

We hauled our apples back to the stand to pay for all thirty four pounds of apples! We also got about ten pounds of pears when we saw a jar of pear butter for sale at the fruit stand. We've made apple butter before so pear butter sounded like a good idea as well.

We started peeling, coring and slicing 34 pounds of apples. After an hour of doing this, it became apparent we would need a very large container to hold them all and allow them to soak all night.
We pored the 10 cups we had so far into a large plastic storage bin.

And then we cut some more. And then we got out the peeler/corer/slicer we borrowed from one of Grandma's co-workers (Thanks Sandy!). This made things a lot faster and made a huge mess!
Robby loved cranking the handle for about three of the apples and then grew bored with the whole process.

Finally we had all thirty four pounds of apples sliced and in the bin. We added sugar, stirred and let them sit covered overnight to soak in their own juice.

It was a really great feeling to finally see the empty box three hours later!

Robby helped for a while and then entertained us by showing us how he could put puzzles together on the kitchen floor. Firetrucks are a lot cooler than apples and canning.

The next day we (mostly The Grandma) got the apples and juice into 20 quart jars and hot bathed them into a beautiful sight.

We have done this in the past and we just love how we can take a jar of these out at any time of the year and make an apple pie using "fresh" sweet apples. I've never tasted a better apple pie than the ones that come from using these canned apples.

Next came the pears! We peeled, cored and chopped all them by hand this time. It went pretty quick compared to the apples. We put the chopped pears into the food processor and pureed them into pear sauce.

When we filled up our crock pot and still had pears left over, it was time to go knocking on the neighbor's door to borrow a crock pot. Living on a cul de sac is great for knowing your neighbors. Most of the time.
Thanks to my neighbor we had two crock pots to finish. We added cinnamon and sugar (only a cup and a half per crock pot!) and let them bubble all night. I visited Ree's site to get recipe ideas on how to make this amazing pear butter. She just finished her first cookbook and I can't wait to get one!

I have to admit the best part of making pear butter is how it makes your whole house smell delicious.

The next morning the butter was reduced by half and ready to go into jars. We got a total of 12 half pint (8 oz.) jars.

Four of the jars were shorter and wider and were so cute The Grandma couldn't resist buying them and paying $1 each for the jars. Money well spent if you ask me!

Now the job at hand is not eating all of these ourselves and saving some to give as presents this holiday season!

Things You Never Knew You Needed

2009-10-16T13:41:00.000-07:00

I have been fighting sinus and/or lung infections for the better part of a month. I am so tired of being sick and having no energy. It has triggered my allergies into full bloom as well. My left eye has taken to swelling to a size larger than my right eye. I look like Ferb.

"It's not a tumor" and I have the cat-scan to prove it. That being said, it seems petty to complain about allergies and infections that can be cured with drugs from your local drug store. In fact your local drug store has everything you never knew you needed. Observe:

Count Chocula Lip Balm

How many times have you wished for something that tastes like imitation chocolate in a small tube so you could apply it to your lips?

Long Term Relationships for your hair.

The marketing campaigns targeting horny single women have really gotten out of hand.

Devil-faced pacifier

Your baby is not cute enough with a normal pacifier? Going to a Marilyn Manson concert with the little one? This is a MUST have! Satan gear for your baby. Has Pat Robertson seen this one yet?

Edible birthday cards for your dog

As my little brother says, "It is amazing the things people would rather have than money".

A Snuggie for your dog.

How many times has your dog been sitting on the couch under a blanket wishing his paws were free to talk on the phone or knit a keen Christmas sweater for himself? Can you see the "Kill me. Please." look in his eyes?

I think the only reason the store had all of these things is because people out of their right minds with diseases come in and are forced to browse the merchandise while waiting.

I am proud to say that I only walked out of the store with antibiotics.

That Snuggie would be super cute on my brother's beagle though.

The Liberal Agenda at Work

2009-09-30T12:53:00.000-07:00

So.

I went to the eye doctor (shouldn't it be eyes doctor?) yesterday and got some bad news. My left eye is not doing so well these days. It has decided to be larger than my right eye and not see as well as it used to. I blame Obama. I think I get this blame everything on Obama from John. If the left is bigger than the right, it has to be Obama and the Liberal Agenda's fault.

I had Lasik surgery in 2000 and have had over nine blissful years of not dealing with glasses or contacts. It has been so amazing and I highly recommend it to anyone who suffers from Mr. Magoo syndrome like I did. I don't want to wear glasses again but at least if I do they won't have to be so thick they necessitate a permit to be worn on sunny days.

The Family We Get to Choose

2009-09-18T10:25:00.001-07:00

Robby has been lost at preschool for the last week and a half. Every morning he gets to the steps and scans the playground looking for his best-est friend, Emma. When he discovers she's not there, he slowly descends the steps and half-heartedly heads off to play. Emma's grandmother died and she has been home grieving with her family. When it happened, the teacher told us parents, but not the kids. Two days ago, I had to break down and tell Robby what had happened and why Emma was not in school. We were driving home from school and Robby asked me, "Why do people die? Do kids die too?". Naturally, I assumed they had mentioned it in school that day.

Such tough questions coming from his little four year old brain. I knew I didn't want to lie to him and so I told him that yes, sometimes kids die too. I told him that every living thing will one day die. In the past, I've told him way too much information and all he wants is specific direct answers. He asked, "Who am I going to live with when you and Papa die?". I told him that by the time we died he would already be living with his own wife and children and not with us. He seemed to grasp that. I also told him that I thought that even if a person has died and you cannot see them or touch them anymore a part of them will always be with you in your mind and heart. Then he said that was why we included the "those I never knew" in his nightly prayer. So that Grandpa Charlie (my dad) and Peepaw (John's dad) would stay in our hearts. "Exactly.", I said.

He hasn't asked any more about death since that afternoon. When we got to school this morning he scanned the children running around the playground, as he has every day since she has been gone. At the very moment he spotted her running toward him with her long brown hair flying behind her I could actually feel his heart leap from his chest. They hugged and ran off chasing each other and laughing. They didn't say one word to each other, but I could see that each child was getting exactly what they needed from the other.

I am blessed to know this kind of friendship three-fold in my life. I am ever so grateful that Robby knows it too and at such a young age. There are many sayings about friendship but the one that has always stuck with me is this one; Friends are the family you get to choose.

My dear friend is flying to Chicago today to say goodbye to her dying father. Even though we don't get to play with each other five days a week anymore, our friendship, at its core, is a lot like Robby and Emma's. I know that when I do get see my friend, my heart will leap at seeing her and getting to hug and comfort her. Because we are adults, she knows that I am here for her and I know that she will make it through this tough chapter in her life. But oh, how my heart aches with longing for that shared hug. I wish I could sweep her up, hug her and run off to the swing set with her and make it all okay.

Yes We Did

2009-09-13T22:26:00.000-07:00

I come from a long line of women who were saying "Yes we can" long before politicians. I submit the following evidence:

We purchased a new BBQ grill and having no access to a truck needed a way to get it home. We took it out of the box in the parking lot of the store and what would not fit in the trunk of our Mitsubishi, went into the backseat. Right next to our 4 year old in his car seat.

Thinking outside the box or desperation? You decide.

Channeling Annie Kinsella

2009-09-03T09:48:00.000-07:00

I cannot believe that the summer is almost over! Where did it go? We had a six day stretch of record high temps but other than that it's been a cool (cruel?) summer.

School started yesterday in our neck of the woods. Robby is one year away from Kindergarten. (Is is Kindergarden in the US? I'll stick with the original German spelling.) Our assigned public school does not have full-time Kindergarten. They have two sessions, both 2 days a week with an third day thrown in every other week. This means that we will still have to shell out money for daycare/preschool for another year. The daycare center he is attending now offers a Kindergarten class with an accredited teacher and everything. If we had to make the decision today, he'd stay in daycare Kindergarten and wait until first grade to go to the public school.

As a parent, how do I know what's best for his education? What research can I do to assure myself I've made an educated and correct decision? I'd like to use the public school system and not just for the financial freedom it will offer. I've heard about charter schools where they are supervised by the government but parents chip in financially. I don't think we have any in our area though. Most private schools here are faith based and very expensive. I am going to check out the Jewish school and some Christian schools though and compare. To be honest though, I feel extremely uncomfortable exposing him to one specific faith and other people's beliefs. Spirituality is important to me and I want it to be important to my kid. How do I accomplish this without exposing him to all the thing I disagree with in the religion I was raised in? These are the questions that keep me up at night. Homeschooling is out of the question for two reasons. One, I want Robby to be smarter than us and two, I don't think I could be his teacher and mom and stay sane.

My plan is to join the PTO (When did it stop being the PTA?) and watch that scene from Field Of Dreams over and over. You know the one. Where Kevin Costner and Amy Madigan are at the PTA meeting and they are discussing banning books from the school. She stands up to defend Terrance Mann and calls Beulah (another parent) Eva Braun and says "At least he's not a book burner you Nazi cow". That's me. Poor Robby....

One For The Books

2009-08-31T13:02:00.001-07:00

I realized I had not made one single post in the month of August and thought I'd better get at least one in.

Life has been hectic this month and filled with lots of work, lung infections, oral surgery and fun changes. Right now, my thoughts are with my dear friend who is in Chicago with her ailing father. He's a man not only large of stature but heart. When my own father was in intensive care and unable to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day he stepped in. I don't know if he ever really knew how much that meant to me. He was not only a physical stand in for my dad. He acted like my own father would have. The money he slipped me that day was enough to save my honeymoon but the hug and kiss on the cheek are what I will always cherish.

I've done a lot of soul searching too this month. I'm contemplating changing the way I earn money in this world. It seems like the harder I work, the more I need to just get by. I know a lot of people are struggling with this in today's economy. I need a plan better than the lottery to get me off the financial hamster wheel of death.

Hang in there with me please. I find the words hard to come by lately.

The Girl in the Bubble

2009-07-31T14:44:00.000-07:00

When The Papa and I were getting divorced a few years ago, I saw a therapist. She helped me sort through a lot of my feelings and was a great sounding board for me. In our last session, I asked for help with all the grief that was consuming me. We did some visualization exercises and I was shocked with the results. I pictured myself on my wedding day; all dressed in white and happier than I have ever been. The changing autumn leaves falling all around me and so in love it oozed from my pores. I then captured that part of me and put her in a snow globe. Separate and safe from the day to day me, she could sit among the leaves that were falling from the trees in her own little bubble. The therapist was concerned that I would leave her in there forever and encouraged me to visit her often in hopes that one day she could once again become a part of me.

From that day forward, I put my mental “leaf globe” up on the shelf. I would shake it up every once in a while and check in on her. I always deemed it too unsafe for her to leave the bubble though and back up on the shelf she went.

Somewhere along the way, I deemed her strong enough and let her out of the bubble.

Ten years ago today, The Papa and I went on our first date. As I sit and reflect on the past ten years, I am amazed and ever so glad that she escaped that bubble and can celebrate them with me. After all, it was her that made that leap of faith that day. I trusted her belief that it would be okay to let someone love us.

Today, I feel whole and complete. I have learned that love does change, people do change and that it is okay to love someone, and yourself, through all the changes.

Through the next ten years and beyond, I hope we can keep remembering and cherishing that special love we have for each other. I love you, John.

The Power of Elvis!

2009-07-24T15:38:00.000-07:00

We were all sitting at the kitchen table last night after dinner, trying to get the thank you cards written and addressed to all the lovely people who sent Robby birthday gifts. I had purchased a box of generic cards and Robby's job was to stamp "Thank You Very Much" on them and then write his name below.

After a few a "R" and "B"'s were done, I was feeling pretty proud at how far he has come in learning to write his name. He has been able to spell it well over a year now. We were on the tenth card or so when Robby lost interest in writing his name and where you could make out a few letters a few cards ago, now all we could see was a scribble. (Maybe he will be a doctor?)

The Papa pointed out how people had spent their hard earned money to buy him a birthday present and he could at least try hard to write his name nice for them. He also may have mentioned that nice writing would be likely to prompt another gift in the future. Apparently, that's all the motivation Robby needed.

I am totally going to be one of THOSE moms and say,"Isn't my kid a friggin' GENIUS! (Ok, except he stamped the thank you upside down.) He can write his name at 4! Woo-Hoo!"

Thank you. Thank you very much!

The Greeks Don't Want No Threeks

2009-07-23T13:50:00.000-07:00

The many differences between The Papa and I not only drive me crazy at times, but are the glue that holds us together. An example?

The Papa has always preferred a threek to a fork. Urban Dictionary defines a threek:

1. threek
a three-tined eating utensil, similar to a fork.
"Look Mommy, this lady uses threeks instead of forks."

Our flatware is so old it looks like it came across the Oregon Trail. I've passed on several opportunities to get some nice, new flatware because there are no threeks in the set. Me? I use forks like the rest of the sane people of the world. When The Papa and I first co-habitated and all our books and belongings started to mingle, I remember how cute it was to see the pitiful little threeks in the silverware tray all stacked with the forks. They looked like little three-legged puppies. For a while, when The Papa was gone from the house, I actually missed them being in the drawer. I think their absence was a great reminder for me how much I need to get my "freaky threek" on in life. Without them, it was just all forks, all the time and you knew that when you reached in the drawer a fork is what you would get. Every single time. Life is so much sweeter for me not knowing if an occasional threek is going to be thrown into the mix.

Now, if I could just get him to put the toilet seat down...

Lifestyles of the Gay and Famous

2009-07-22T12:37:00.000-07:00

Years past, a relative once told me she loved Aunt Mitch (my dearest friend and brother of 28 years) but did not approve of his lifestyle. To which I replied, "What lifestyle? Watching the Golden Girls on TV every night?". The more people know about the gay "lifestyle" the better educated they will be that really, we are all only people with the same wants, needs, desires and trials of life.

To all you hetero readers who want to see how the "other side" lives and all you homo readers who want a great love story just click here.

Life On Life's Terms

2009-07-14T12:51:00.000-07:00

The Papa left last Wednesday for a week long trip to Idaho. The first part of the trip he was at a ProRally and had some fun racing cars. After the rally was over, he went to eastern Idaho to visit his mother and his eldest brother, Lars, who is ill and in a nursing home. The second half of his trip not being as fun as the first part. He is bringing his mother (The Meemaw) home with him for a visit and they will arrive tomorrow night. Robby's 4th birthday party is Sunday. (I cannot believe he will be four!) The Meemaw will be able to come to the birthday party, as well as attend the 2nd birthday party of one of her great-grandsons on Saturday. I finally got online invitations out last night. The people who don't have an email address will have to settle for a phoned invitation.

I just remembered I forgot to order the birthday cake.

Robby has just had a hard time with The Papa being gone. He has tested me every chance he's had and is more contrary than I've ever seen him. If I say anything he has to disagree with it. It has to be his original idea or plan. Otherwise, it is completely out of the question. Case in point - He refused to go to the playground last night because it was my idea. He said he'd rather stay at home and play. This, from the kid who always begs to go to the playground. Tonight, I am going to suggest he stay up late and ignore the vegetables on his plate at dinner. He stayed at home with The Grandma today.

I just remembered I never called the school to tell them he wasn't coming today.

We are having a backyard BBQ with hamburgers, hot dogs and lots of water fun for the kids. I have managed to get the lawn fairly green again in time for the party. The larger weeds are all gone, and every guest will notice this, as small bare dirt patches speckle the lawn in their place.

I just remembered I need to get a replacement handle-starting cord installed in the mower by Saturday.

The machines in my life are on strike this week it seems. Last night, my cell phone battery died sometime in the night. I feel bad that I didn't even hear it cry out that familiar "bong bong" as it powered down for the last time.

I was not greeted with the usual time display on the coffee pot this morning. Sometime in the night, a flashing "Errr2" took its place. After reading the very unhelpful owner's manual, I have concluded that "Errr2" is Kitchen-Aid for "The burner took a shit and won't heat up now".

The Grandma just called to say the she and Robby were on their way to the third Goodwill store of the day. She is determined to find a coffeemaker for $5. She probably has driven 25 miles looking for the next Goodwill store. At 11 miles per gallon that's roughly a $7 investment in the $5 coffee pot. Maybe it's true that eventually we all turn into our mothers.

Tomorrow night cannot come fast enough. The Papa will be home and things will once again be right with the world. I always sleep better when the entire pack is back in the den. I miss telling him about my day face to face. I miss all the little things he does for me to remind me that I am important too. I long to hold his hand and hear about how his brother is doing and how he is dealing with the thought of losing him. I miss his smell. I miss his touch.

I just remembered why I love The Papa so much.

Big Elephants

2009-07-05T21:02:00.000-07:00

We went to see a special behind the scenes zoo class this morning called Big Elephants. Thanks to The Nanny, we are members of the Oregon Zoo and got a chance to enroll in this special two hour class. After a late night of fireworks and BBQ at Uncle Mike's house we got up early and made it to the class by 9:30am.

Robby even told them how to spell his name for his name tag.

As soon as all the kids arrived we set off to go see the elephants. The star of the show was Sam, the baby elephant born at the zoo last August. Sam is already well over 1,000 pounds! It was a hot day so the elephants were getting some water and having some fun cooling off.

The instructor told us all about how elephants use their trunks for many things. They can pick up a toothpick or an entire tree with their trunk. Robby had The Papa to lift him up for a better view.

After seeing the elephants and holding real elephant bones, we went back to class to hear a few stories about elephants and have a snack.

Then we had some art time and made a few projects to take home.

Elephant with green spiral noodles.

Robby painted a YELLOW elephant mask. Yellow is his favorite color.

Then the kids got to sing a few songs about elephants and pretend they had trunks.

After class we grabbed some lunch and headed out to see the other animals at the zoo. The Sea Lions are always a favorite. They swim right next to the glass.

This is always so cool! The Seal Lions are pretty big!

We even said hello to our old friends the Penguins.

A good day for sure, even though we were all still worn out from the Fourth of July celebration.

I spent many years dreaming of a day just like today.

I am such a lucky woman.

The Next Chapter

2009-07-02T15:28:00.000-07:00

The Grandma has arrived from Arizona and is here to stay! Hoo-ray!

Right this minute, she and Robby are out in the backyard playing in the water, as it is 95 degrees here today. I have free time! What do I do with it besides work? Blog.

The Grandma will be staying with us and Uncle Mike both until she finds a new home of her own here. I think this will work out well, since once she is tired of one of her kids, she can go bother the other one for a while. (Just kidding, Mom.)

And so, this marks the end of a chapter in in her life and the start of the next one. The last chapter didn't end well. Here's hoping for a fresh new start with lots of love, old and new friendships and prosperity.

I'd write more - but a client just called. See? What spare time.

Moving On

2009-06-09T22:25:00.000-07:00

We moved Robby to a new daycare last week. He was showing some signs of stress and suddenly did not want to go to school in the morning. At fifteen, this would be normal, but at four it warranted looking into. It turns out that several factors were causing him problems. First and foremost was another kid in his class. Since it was a Lutheran daycare, they modeled Christ and did not turn anyone away. A very noble stand that allows kids kicked out of every other daycare in town a place to call home and create havoc.

At the risk of sounding like a snob, these kids are not acceptable company for my kid all day.

I feel bad for the little boy in his class that hits teachers in the face (other kids too when he can), bites and screams, "Fuck you, I hate you" at anyone who stands between him and what he wants. I disagree with their policy of letting in all children and not kicking anyone out (if they pay). Spock had it right when he said the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few - or the one.

There was also a teacher in the daycare who was full of so much drama that it made me look like a wallflower. She loves Robby fiercely and for almost three years looked after him. In the end though, she seemed like a dysfunctional aunt watching him and not a paid professional. It was a gut wrenching decision for me to move him. The Papa had no problem with it. That's because he is a Vulcan, like Spock, and could could see the sense in moving Robby long before I could.

We are all LOVING the new daycare, so far. The "teachers" are really teachers with degrees and education and training in child development. They let the kids play outside a lot in their massive outdoor area, which is something the other facility lacked. They provide lunch so we don't have to pack a lunch every morning. I have to say the best thing about the new daycare is that they have a web cam in all the classrooms and the playground. Parents can log on and watch their little angel nap, or in Robby's case, roll around on his mat and wiggle for two and a half hours. I've spent many minutes just watching him in the past week. It's reassuring to see him during the day and know what he is doing. We may not have to get his GPS chip installed for a few more years now.

Damn You PBS!

2009-04-30T15:27:00.000-07:00

I know Robby read my last post because he woke up at 1 am this morning and didn't go back to sleep. He was coughing a little, but I think he was really up out of 3 year old spite.

We finally got him down for a nap at 1 pm and I don't think I'm going to wake him up.

And Robby? We're having tomatoes and broccoli for dinner.

Poppies! Poppies, Will Make Them Sleep!

2009-04-29T13:49:00.000-07:00

About 2 months ago, Robby started refusing to take a nap at school. We tried having him listen to music on headphones, isolating him from the other kids, punishing him, all to no avail. The teachers had given up and who could blame them for that?

I know kids outgrow naps. Robby was walking around with dark circles under his eyes and his demeanor made it clear he needed some more sleep. The poor kid was born into genes that turn you homicidal without enough pillow time.

Almost two weeks ago, I gave Robby a choice. He could take his nap at school or he could go to bed at 7 pm every night instead of his usual 8 - 8:30 bedtime. Despite me pointing out to him if he napped at school he wasn't missing out on anything, and that going to bed at 7 pm would mean less time at home with us in the evening, he chose the earlier bedtime.

The last two weeks have been wonderful! He has slept well for the most part and wakes up happy. He is not grumpy when I pick him up from school and he doesn't even fight that hard to stay up past 7 pm. (Well, he did last night.)

I have to say it has been nice having the sweet agreeable child back. As much as an almost 4 year can be agreeable that is.

Typical Morning

2009-04-28T11:20:00.000-07:00

I've struggled since my 20's with eating breakfast everyday. The Papa has tried numerous tricks to get me to eat every morning. Usually, Robby will eat alone while we get ready for work or make his lunch. After this morning's conversation, I think we all need to sit down and eat breakfast together every morning.

Robby: What do you call a baby elephant?

Me: A calf.

Robby: What do you call a baby pig?

Me: A piglet.

Me: What do you call a baby Robby who doesn't eat his breakfast?

Robby: A crab.

Got Your Number

2009-04-22T19:38:00.000-07:00

I have not spoken to The Nanny since early November, when I begged her to call off the lawsuit she filed against The Grandma. I told her we could not talk if there was a lawsuit, as my mom's health was unstable at that point and I might have to take over her affairs. She didn't call it off.

She didn't call for my birthday. She didn't call at Thanksgiving. She didn't call at Christmas. She didn't call when she got my Christmas card with the picture of Robby on Santa's lap. She didn't call when she moved to another state. She didn't call when she turned off her phone and got another number. She didn't call with her new address. She didn't call.

Last week I got her number. I didn't call.

I'm really torn on this one. I know she is suffering from sort form of dementia, but that doesn't make it any easier to understand. I heard from lawyer to lawyer that she never wants to hear from me again. Why? I don't know. I want to hear it from her if she doesn't want me (or Robby) in her life. Just when I convince myself to dial her number, the fear of hearing her say just that stops me.

I know I have to call...eventually.

Dimplecheek Lives!

2009-04-10T22:40:00.001-07:00

Originally uploaded by dimplecheek

The dimple always comes out at Easter! Check out the new photos on FLICKR.

The Roof! The Roof!

2009-03-26T11:29:00.000-07:00

A man is vacationing in Europe and calls back home to check in with his brother, who is house sitting for the three weeks he will be gone.

"How are things at home?"

"Not great. Your cat is dead."

"What!!! Really?"

"Yep."

"Man! What happened?"

"She got on the roof and refused to come down. She wouldn't eat or drink water. She just sat there for days until she finally died."

"Oh, Jeez. Man, you could have broken the news a little easier on me, brother."

"Like how?"

"I don't know; You could have told me that she was stuck on the roof this time and the next time I called you could have told me she died. That way, at least I would have been prepared and it wouldn't have been such a shock."

"I guess so. Sorry, dude."

"Anyway, how's Grandma doing?"

"She's up on the roof and we can't get her to come down."

Editorial Note: Thanks to a call from Aunt Donna this evening, I realize that I need to let everyone know that The Grandma and The Nanny are both alive and kicking. It is seven years to the day that my Dad died. I was trying to communicate the humor that one can actually prepare for a loved one's death.

Shopping Mall Merit Badge

2009-03-10T21:47:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow night is date night for The Papa and I. We are going to a swanky YELP event, as The Papa is an "elite" Yelper. After reading the invitation to the event and realizing just how swanky the place we were going is, I looked into my closet and was terrified. Granted, I had to buy not one, but TWO new dresses just last year for the little brother's wedding. In my defense, it was a summer wedding and this is March and it snowed here just yesterday for crying out loud. Neither of those summer dresses would work. So, after work, I grabbed the kid from school and headed for the local mall. With promises of a McDonald's dinner and play time in the play area, we struck a deal for good behavior while I looked for a dress.

He was an A N G E L, ANGEL, in Macy's. Unfortunately, Mr. Macy thinks that the only dresses people in my size wear should either be boldly floral or a business suit. Off to the next store, only to discover Mr. JC Penney thinks that women in my size look good in polka dots. By this time, I had to say "Get over here, NOW!" several times. I told myself he was hungry and that food would make it better. We headed to the food court and he hoovered up the happy meal. Ahh. We left the food court with much less trauma and headed for the play area. After a good 30 minutes of releasing the massive amount of energy that had been trapped in his little three year old body for over two hours, we headed off to the third, and final store. I had never been in this store, but had walked by it many times and told myself that it was for people MUCH younger than me. (When will I ever learn about judging things I know nothing about?)

I should have known we were in trouble when he ran through the hanging clothes and screamed, "Look Mama! It's a CAR WASH!" at the top of his lungs. I was about to bolt for the car, when there it was. The perfect little black dress. On the clearance rack! I managed to grab his hand and drag him to the dressing room. When I started taking my clothes off, he asked, "Do you have to go potty? There's no potty in here, Mama." That was good for a chuckle or two from the neighboring dressing rooms. They would need to remember just how funny and cute he was just minutes later, as I dragged him back by his feet from crawling under the wall between the rooms.

The dress fit! It was purchased and we headed to the register. I had the clerk in sight and was almost free and clear before he took the sunglasses off of a display and spun the whole thing Ala Pat Sajack. Things flew. Bangles, bobbles and glasses were everywhere. By the time I had them cleaned up and gotten a hold of his hand again, there was a line of three people in front of us. I always knew living with a beagle would prepare me for motherhood. We got in the line and I barked, "SIT!!!" repeatedly until he sat on the floor next to me. Every time he moved, I would just scream, "SIT!!!" again. He managed to rip three leather strips off the tassel of my purse by the time it was our turn.

He cried all the way though the mall, through Macy's and the parking lot to the car. He knew I was mad, and I think he was a little scared at just how mad I was. I can tell you, I was feeling more exhausted than angry, but what he didn't know only hurt him a little and helped me make it to the car. We had a long talk in the car about behavior and respecting other people's needs. I'm sure most of it went over his head, but his emotional response was appropriate. The night was not a total loss though, for I had a little black dress and yet another motherhood merit badge to put on my apron. I am blessed.

Dementia, Schementia

2009-02-20T15:28:00.000-08:00

NOTE:
I find it hard sometimes to know what I should and should not write here. I think the main reason for my sporadic posting (other than a lack of time) is what I want to write about - I feel I shouldn't.

“God have mercy on the man who doubts what he’s sure of” – Bruce Springsteen

Last fall, The Nanny filed a lawsuit against The Grandma, accusing her of a lot of things. Things I know to be false. Money and a jilted lover are involved. When those two things meet, nothing good can come of it.

My emotions have gone to all extremes over this whole issue, and I have felt like a protector, advocate, victim and vigilante many times over the past several months. Through it all, I have constantly felt like I was in the middle.

I was driving Robby home from school one day and I was telling him that yes, Mamas do always come back and they do always love their kids no matter what. I felt like I was only telling him a partial truth. I will always come back, Robby. I will always love you, no matter what, Robby. As for every Mama? Well, I know that isn’t true for every Mama, Robby.

Sometimes Mamas don’t come back.
Sometimes Mamas don’t ever love their kids.

I know first hand it’s a hurtful thing when a Mama doesn’t come back. My Mama left and didn’t come back for two years. It’s a thing I don’t want Robby ever to feel. And while it’s a hurtful thing, it is yet a forgivable thing for me. Mama’s not ever loving their kids is where I struggle with forgiveness. This is strange, since I can look at the circumstances of the Mama and see where she was left behind, see her disease and see her pain when she did the leaving. I cannot see any of those things when I look at her Mama. She never loved her child. I can think of nothing that factors into why or how this could ever happen.

If a Mama never loves her child, is it possible for her to love her grandchildren? Sometimes I say yes, but I really think the answer is no. Maybe all the “love” a Mama gives her grandchild is just a way to get back at her own child; put another spike through that little broken heart.

Even if illness plays a part in recent history, it cannot explain 67 years of slowly killing a soul. Any Mama capable of that deserves no part in knowing the joys of grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

This may sound harsh, cold and bitter. Maybe it is. I can tell you that mine is soul in pain. I have been left again. All the feelings, given and received, of love and the belief that this love shared was unconditional, all seem false to me now. I know I love her still. I know I loved her with all my heart then and my love was unconditional then. Today, the conditions have changed. I don’t have another forgiveness in me.

Facebook Manifesto

2009-02-17T15:22:00.000-08:00

Facebook, in concept is a good idea. It lets you stay in touch with people in your life with quick one or two lines every day (or hour for some) or give someone a “super poke” just to let them know you are thinking about them. In today’s rush and hurry world, it is nice to get at least some connection with the people you care about. Even if you don’t always have time for a long email, phone call or lunch.

As with all other things in life, moderation for facebook is key. I hope this, my Facebook Manifesto, can offer some guidelines. You can slip every once in awhile, but if you have slid down that slippery facebook slope, hopefully you can recognize yourself here and get the help you so desperately need.

If you have over 100 friends on Facebook, you don’t look popular. You look pathetic.

If you update your status more than twice a day, you need to ask yourself two questions.
1. Is this really vital information I am sharing with friends?
2. What can I do in my life to get the connection I crave with people without being this annoying and alone?

If you troll other people’s status updates just for a chance to comment with your witty retort, you need another hobby, or outlet for this creativity.

If you are in a relationship and use facebook to “chat”, email, “hug”, “throw a banana at”, send a “kidnap request” and generally show others how charming you can be when sitting behind a keyboard, you need to assess your relationship and figure out what you are not getting there that is driving you to this behavior.

If you are not in a relationship and do all of these things, you need to know you will never find one of any sustenance on facebook. Move out of your parent’s basement for chrissakes already.

If you are in a relationship with someone who practices this unhealthy facebook behavior, you need to ask yourself two questions.

1. Am I treating them the way I want to be treated? If the answer is no, then you can’t go onto to question 2 until it is yes.

2. Why am I in a relationship with someone who would rather put all their energy into their facebook “friends”?

Socks

2009-02-05T20:46:00.000-08:00

OK, what is the deal on socks? I cannot find a decent selection of socks to fit my kid. I finally found some today (at KMart of all places!) that fit him. They are white crew socks, package of seven pairs for $5.99. What if he needs another color besides white? I'd be satisfied with at least one pair of black socks. There are 15,000 choices if you are an infant. Why all the cutesy infant socks? They should be the ones stuck with plain white. It's rare an infant needs socks to match his dress pants for that school play. They don't even walk yet, so the white socks aren't even going to get dirty. Why do they get the black socks and the three year old boys who live to jump in mud get stuck with the white socks?

I saw racks and racks of Dora socks, Hannah Montana socks, sparkly pink, purple, red and green socks. Even socks with fur on the tops. I almost grabbed a pair of Dora socks out of desperation, but the thought of The Papa's head exploding stopped me.

I'm convinced it's a conspiracy. Look at they way they size socks:

Baby - Sock Size 3-4 1/2

Infant - Sock Size 4-5 1/2

Toddler - Sock Size 5-6 1/2

Kids - Sock Size 6-7 1/2

Boys - Sock Size 8 - 13

Today, I discovered Robby is a Kid. Not a toddler anymore, but not yet a boy. Since the sizes have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with shoe size, I had to discover this by sitting my son on a dirty KMart floor and removing his shoe and very small sock and trying them on his wriggling foot. I know I was not the first mom to do this because almost all of the packages had been opened.

I guess I have four choices. I can dress him only in white socks, no matter what color his pants are. I can learn to make socks. I can honor diversity, risk therapy, and dress him in sparkly socks. Or, I can put him in sandals.

Anyone out there know where I can find a pair of black Kids - Sock Size 6-7 1/2 for my son who wears a size 9 shoe?

Uncle Wiggly

2009-01-16T21:01:00.000-08:00

When Robby was born, The Grandma brought some books for the nursery that used to belong to Uncle Mike. Tonight, I pulled an old favorite off the shelf for the first time.

Tonight I read the first chapter of Uncle Wiggly's Happy Days to Robby. When I got to the end of the first chapter, I could remember so vividly reading this story to another 3 year old, even
though that was 25 years ago. This was my little brother, Uncle Mike's, favorite book as a kid.
He must of heard it 1,000 times. He would literally beg to hear this story. I text ed Uncle Mike the last paragraph after Robby was asleep, thinking he'd get a kick out of it.

"Oh dear me! There is no room in this chapter to tell you what happened all of a sudden. But I will tell you in the next chapter if the egg beater will help the can opener to take the olives out of the gold fish bowl and make a chocolate cake for the canary bird."

All those readings, for nothing. He couldn't place it. Even though he used to laugh at this part. Laugh almost as hard as Robby laughed tonight. Oh well, so much for little minds being a sponge. At least he remembers someone was always there to read to him and give him a good night kiss. I guess that is what counts the most after all. Right?

Out Like a Lamb

2009-01-06T21:48:00.000-08:00

The ornaments are packed away for another year. The Boy Scouts came and took the remains of the tree away. The Grandma is back in Arizona. I have gained 10 pounds. The holiday season is officially over at our house.

Top 5 things to remember about 2008:
1. Robby starting to poop in the toilet.
2. America electing its first non-white President
3. Discovering what in me is indestructible.
4. Paul Newman.
5. My little brother getting hitched.

Top 5 things NOT to remember about 2008:
1. Voters tell Gays they have no rights.
2. Hockey Moms.
3. Dementia.
4. Cardiologists.
5. Del Taco.

I am surprised at how much hope I have for 2009. Especially considering the number of black-eyed peas I consumed New Year's Day. The odds indicate a bleak fiscal year. My family is going through a nightmare, legally, and otherwise. Yet, I find myself happy every morning to be awakened by my adorable and healthy son; and always happy when I go to sleep and the last person I speak to is The Papa. 2008 was a year of rediscovering my core and realizing with that, all things are possible.

That's Why We Put Up a Star

2008-12-12T22:17:00.000-08:00

Robby explains why we put the star on top of the Christmas tree.

Christmas Tree Star from dimplecheek on Vimeo.

Everything's Eventual

2008-12-05T19:49:00.000-08:00

I won't watch a horror movie. I saw Nightmare on Elm Street in high school. I didn't sleep for a week. Five years ago, I caught Mel Gibson's face on HBO and watched Signs even though I was home alone. At night. Alone. My distaste for horror movies grew when I had Robby. My maternal hormones do not get along with all that adrenaline. Last year, my zombie loving brother conned me into watching 28 Weeks Later one afternoon. Although I never saw 28 Days Later I was hooked on this sequel's story line. I did have to forward through some scenes he deemed as "ultra gory". I've never even seen Scream and everyone tells me that is not really a scary movie. (I know for a fact Drew Barrymore gets offed in the opening scene. No thanks!)
Despite this, I still claim Stephen King as my favorite author.

I haven't read a Stephen King book since March of 2002. Up until then, I had read almost all of his books and couldn't wait for the next one to be released. My favorite has to be the introduction he wrote to Night Shift. (Oh Stevie, you had me at "Let's talk about fear, you and I.") When I read Pet Sematary in high school, the nightmares lasted more than a week. My AP English teacher even talked about her nightmares from that book. Lately, I've read several of his Pop of King contributions to Entertainment Weekly and enjoyed every single one. Even though I haven't read any, I've purchased new hardcover releases over the years. I've gotten a few as gifts, including the latest Just After Sunset.

In March of 2002, Everything's Eventual was released and I bought a copy right away. Like Night Shift and Just After Sunset it is a collection of short stories. I purchased my copy in Phoenix. I had been there to say goodbye to my dying father. Being a stubborn man, he refused to die the week I was in town. (I truly believe he waited for me to leave to die - out of love.) I purchased the book and planned to start reading it on the 2 1/2 hour flight home. I can see the book on the shelf from where I am sitting now. I know that on page 29, there is my boarding pass from March 25, 2002. While reading the first story Autopsy Room Four I was overcome with grief and put the book down. I knew I had just said goodbye to my dad for the last time. I could not read a story about a man who was alive, yet mistaken for dead undergoing his own autopsy. My dad died that night, when I was safe and at home.

King said: "What I did was take all the spades out of a deck of cards plus a joker.
Ace to King = 1-13. Joker = 14. I shuffled the cards and dealt them. The order in which they came out became the order of the stories, based on their position in the list my publisher sent me. And it actually created a very nice balance between the literary stories and the all-out screamers. Next collection: selected by Tarot."

I wonder if it would have changed things for me if Autopsy Room Four had drawn the Jack and not the Ace.

I've had serious thoughts about reading Just After Sunset. I even put it on top of the television in the bedroom. Maybe it's been enough time and the grief will be bearable and the memory of that flight a little faded. Maybe the Tarot cards will work in my favor.

Got Hope?

2008-11-24T20:50:00.000-08:00

Last night in the bathtub:

"Barack Obama is coming."

"What did you say?"

"Barack Obama is coming."

"Where is he coming?"

"With Santa."

Maybe our expectations are a little too much for one man.

Fighting Hate

2008-11-15T00:59:00.000-08:00

National Protest Against Prop 8 [and for LGBT civil rights]
Saturday, November 15, in the times and places noted above

find your nearest locale here

Circle Each Other in a Cage

2008-10-27T14:37:00.000-07:00

The Papa and I got married 7 years ago today. The last few years were not like we envisioned on our wedding day, but as a good friend said, they led us to where we are now...

Happy

Some need gold and some need diamond rings
Or a drug to take away the pain that living brings
A promise of a better world to come
When whatever here is done
I don't need that sky of blue
All I know's since I found you, I'm happy when
I'm in your arms
Happy, darling, come the dark
Happy when I taste your kiss
I'm happy in a love like this

There's a house upon a distant hill
Where you can hear the laughter of children ring
Guardian angels, they watch from above
Watching over the love that they bring
But at night I feel the darkness near, I awake and
I find you near
I'm happy with you in my arms
I'm happy with you in my heart
Happy when I taste your kiss
I'm happy in love like this

In a world of doubt and fear
I wake at night and reach to find you near
Lost in a dream, you caught me as I fell
I want more than just a dream to tell

We're born in this world, darling, with few days
and trouble never far behind
Man and woman circle each other in a cage
A cage that's been handed down the line
Lost and running 'neath a million dead stars
Tonight let's shed our skin and slip these bars
Happy in each other's arms
Happy baby, come the dark
Happy in each other's kiss
I'm happy in a love like this

- Bruce Springsteen

Go! Diego Go!

2008-09-30T13:47:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow Robby moves into the "big boy class" at his preschool. This monumental occasion is a result of Robby going poop in the potty. It represents a lot of diapers, wipes, destroyed clothing, hours of unproductive bathroom reading and $100 extra dollars a month in tuition that are now all a thing of the past.

I know he will have more accidents, of course he will. Hell, sometimes I still do if I am surprised or drunk enough. But this will be the only "official" recognition of Robby being toilet accomplished (that sounds more dignified than "potty-trained") and I couldn't let the moment pass unrecognized. I know that the challenges he will face from now on will only continue to grow and to challenge me as a mother and a sane human being. They will make pooping in the potty seem not so monumental.

An old classmate from last year started attending his school again and Robby will be in the same class with him. This little boy is the nightmare of every other kid's parent in his class. He teaches the other kids things that we think our little three year old angels are not ready for. Things like hitting. Words like snot, shit and stupid. Oh, the joy. Why couldn't this kid have shown up in the 3rd grade? Every boy was like this when I was in the third grade.

Tonight, it's off to find a Diego lunch box, as they don't have a refrigerator in the "big boy class". I can use some the $100 in tuition savings and get him a really nice one! Woo-Hoo!

UPDATE! We could not find a Diego lunch box, so we made one! It is red color, although it looks pink in the pictures for some reason. What do you think?

Some Things are Meant to Be

2008-09-29T14:43:00.001-07:00

Wedding Day! It was a beautiful sunny day in Las Vegas, although you couldn't really see the sun inside the chapel at the Treasure Island Casino. I arrived at the chapel with "the ladies" in tow just in time. It was much easier corralling drunks the night before than getting these four to the chapel on time! The grandma looked absolutely beautiful, especially for someone 6 weeks post quadruple bypass surgery. We found where the glowing bride to be was hiding in a room with squealing women primping her every part. We kissed her and wished her well and then were off to find the groom.

He was standing there all decked out in his suit and looked not only like a million bucks, but a grown man. Seeing mom give him a hug and whisper in his ear was the first time I would cry that day. We were all seated in the chapel. Auntie LJ and Lori took the back pew, so as not to distract with their camera clicking and giggling. The Grandma, Nanny and I were joined in the front pew with Uncle Mike's Dad, Jim, and his wife, Nancy.

When the bride made her entrance into the chapel, every single person could see not only how amazingly beautiful she looked, but how much joy and love was filling her heart. I looked up at my brother standing there waiting for her and watching her. That was the happiest I have ever seen him look.

Elvis sang us a song. The preacher then stepped up and performed the most elegant yet real wedding ceremony that there ever was. Elvis sang again. When the preacher pronounced them husband and wife, Aunt Jeannette said, "We're married!" and everyone laughed through their tears. As they walked out of the chapel, Elvis sang Viva Las Vegas and the song fit the mood of celebration.

After everyone had filed out of the chapel and the happy couple were whisked away for pictures, I stopped to thank Elvis for doing such a great job. He said, "Thank you, thank you very much." and leaned in and kissed me. When Elvis slipped me the tongue, I knew my Vegas vacation had reached its peak. There would be no topping this.

Out in the lobby of the chapel, I noticed a cricket up near the ceiling in the corner. I was always told that a cricket in the house is lucky. Seeing this good omen on my brother's wedding day made me smile, but in my heart I knew that he and his wife needed none of this luck. Some people are just born to find each other and love one another all the remaining days of their lives. I thank God that they did, and they will.

You can see more photos here.

Rest in Peace Paul Newman

2008-09-27T07:56:00.000-07:00

I am personally saddened by the loss of Paul Newman yesterday. The world has lost a champion actor, racer and humanitarian. I have lost a hero.

Please continue to support Newman's Own. Go out today and help keep his good work alive. In a time when everyone is talking about community organizing and 1,000 points of light, I think looking at the life of Paul Newman would be the best road map for our journey.

Tonight, for me, it's a Newman's Own products meal of spaghetti and salad with a glass of Newman's Own wine in front of the TV watching Nobody's Fool. With hundreds of products and hundreds of movies, Paul Newman Night might just become a tradition for me.

Maybe that will make the loss more bearable.

Instant Gratification

2008-09-16T21:06:00.000-07:00

In June, I flew to sunny Las Vegas, Nevada for a whopping 4 days of no almost 3 year-old, no work and no responsibility. It was the best 4 days I have had in a LONG time!

My little brother, Uncle Mike was finally going to marry his sweetheart of more years than I can remember. My new little sister's name is Aunt Jeannette. I'm so glad the Aunt part is official now. Robby loves her so much and literally lights up when he sees her. When we drive by the exit to their house on the freeway, he refers to it as how to get to Aunt Jeannette's house.

I flew out on a Wednesday night flight with Mike, Jeannette and their friend KEN! KEN! works with Mike and has lived in Las Vegas before, so I was looking forward to having an official tour guide of Sin City. I'm a desert girl, born and raised but every time I land in the desert I cannot help but remember why I decided to relocate to the green and cool pacific northwest. The moment they opened the door on the airplane I could feel all the moisture being sucked out of my body. But hey, this is VEGAS BABY and I didn't care if it was hot enough to fry eggs on the tarmac at 10pm!

We got in a rental car and headed straight for an In N Out Burger. If you've never been to one, you need to put it on your list of things to do before you die. I had a Double Double and an Animal Style Double Double. Animal style has mustard and pickles. That's right, 4 patties and 4 pieces of cheese in one sitting. I felt it was appropriate to start the "days of instant gratification" off with a bang. We then found the house they had rented for their stay. It was a great 2 story house with a pool and a hot tub. The plan was to have the wedding party stay in the house in the extra bedrooms and then they would have the house to themselves a few days after everyone left for their honeymoon. Aunt Mitch's mom has a time share at the Wyndham Grand Desert Resort and had graciously arranged two suites for me to use while I was in Vegas. I couldn't check in until the following afternoon, so I stayed in the house the first night. We put our suitcases away, checked the house out and went swimming! I love to swim at night. It has many advantages, like the darkness to disguise how my body looks in a swimsuit and no scorching sun to burn my extremely white body.

While we were all in the pool, I asked if we were going to the casino next. It was around midnight and I was really only joking. Everyone was excited to go, so I thought if I could stay up this late already why not a little longer. I cannot believe how much my life has changed since Robby. Staying up to midnight was never an oddity in my previous life! So, our beloved tour guide KEN! suggested we hit Sunset Station in nearby Henderson.

Now, I had managed to scrape together $200 whole dollars for my 4 day trip to Las Vegas. This had to cover food, taxis, libations and gambling. Yet, the very first night, I plopped $20 into a quarter slot machine. I played a few pulls and won some, lost some. I cashed out. I really miss the sound of the money dropping out of a slot machine. Now the machines just spit out a voucher with the amount of your winnings. I took my $10 voucher and started walking the casino. I put my $10 voucher in a $1 slot machine. A few pulls later I had three of the loveliest sevens I'd ever seen! $300! I cashed out and ran like a goat. That $300 saved my trip! I guess there is something to a good run of bad luck.

Uncle Mike and KEN! introduced us to the "gaudy" bar at sunset station. If you sit at the bar and play the quarter video poker machines they bring you free booze. A lot of free booze. If you're a slow gambler and a fast drinker, it's the best deal in Vegas you are going to find.

We made it back to the house just in time to sit outside by the pool and watch the sunrise over the desert. Sunrises are something I actually miss about the desert. I went to bed around 6 am and slept until 10am. The bedroom I had for the night had a mechanical metal shade for the window that made the room pitch dark. I'm putting one of those on my Christmas list this year. I had to put my sunglasses on to walk out of the bedroom and go hunt for some coffee in the kitchen.

Thursday we found the place to drop off Jeannette's wedding gown to be steamed for the wedding on Saturday. We checked me into the Wyndham that afternoon. I was pleased to see that the Hard Rock Hotel was walking distance from the Resort. The Wyndham chain has amazing properties! My honeymoon was saved by Wyndham and for that, they will always have my loyalty. After another day of instant gratification, I turned the air conditioner down to 40 and went to bed.

Friday afternoon, The Grandma and Nanny arrived with Auntie LJ and Aunt Lori. Auntie LJ and Aunt Lori flew into Phoenix and they drove The Grandma and Nanny over. The Grandma was 6 weeks post quadruple bypass surgery and not able to drive yet. Nanny and I would share a suite and Grandma, LJ and Lori would share the other.

I was at the New York New York casino with Best Man Diddy and his gal Manda when I got the call they were almost in Vegas. Directing them through town on my cell phone and screaming, "Do you see the statue of liberty? The Lion? The Big GOLD lion? I'm across the street from that!" was a challenge with the traffic whizzing by. They eventually found me and we headed off to the Wyndham. I managed to get food for everyone before I stole their car and picked Jeanette up to go get her dress for the wedding the next day.

On a side note, why do bridal shop people have to create such stress for brides? My Lord! The dress has been here 48 hours. Yes, we need it today. No, we cannot pick it up 20 minutes before the wedding. Do I have to get my handgun out of the car? Oh? It's ready?!?! Imagine that.

After delivering the dress safely to the house, I loaded up Jeannette and 3 of her bridal peeps into the car. We were off to join the guys, who had already begun the last night of single debauchery at a bar I couldn't remember the name of. I just called it Hand-job Joe's all night.
I spent the night playing designated driver and picking up people from the airport and other parts of Vegas to get them to Hand-job Joe's for the party. Mike had brought a GPS system with him on the trip. If I had not had this little box, I never would have made it through the night. Wrangling 8 or so drunks was fun although challenging at times. Mike and Jeannette have some amazing friends so that helped out a lot. I eventually herded everyone home safe to get some sleep before the big day.

Catching Up

2008-09-05T15:07:00.000-07:00

Hi there. Yeah, I took a few months off and threw a surprise blog at you that had absolutely zero personal content whatsoever. Forgive me?

A lot has changed in my life since June. In no particular order:

Robby started pooping in the potty! It only took 3 years 1 month and 12 days for it to click with him that the toilet was the best place to put his crap.
My little brother, Uncle Mike, got married in Las Vegas. I made a 5 day trip there to help celebrate and had the best time I can remember having since last October.
The Papa and I decided to reconcile and give the whole couple thing another shot. This is by far the biggest news and most important to me. It's also probably why there have been no posts for so long. Writing my thoughts on this subject was something I wasn't comfortable with on this blog. Maybe I needed a cave for that.
My grandmother, The Nanny, visited and spent 5 days of her time here in the hospital. She has since gone home to Arizona and spent another week or so in the hospital there. Along with her heart problems, it appears some dementia has developed.
Robby turned 3!

I'm sure there are many others, but these are the highlights of what you've missed. I plan on writing about each event over the next week. So, fasten those seat belts and hang on for details on the wild ride that is my life. I can tell you now that my life feels whole. I am happy for the first time in a very long time!

I R O N Y

2008-09-03T12:38:00.000-07:00

Dear Sarah Palin,

Your daughter's body and what she decides for it are her business. You're right, you daughter's pregnancy is a private, family matter. It will not impact your ability to be a Vice President at all.
The media should drop this matter and leave you and your family alone with these personal matters.

Sincerely,
The Mama

PS Could you give every other woman in America the same consideration? Thanks.

Reason #17 Why My New Sister-In-Law ROCKS!!!

2008-06-27T13:39:00.001-07:00

On the Way to Daycare

2008-06-12T10:03:00.000-07:00

"SHAZBOT! Well why don't you just drive in all the lanes!"

"Who are you talking to, Mama?"

"The guy in front of us."

"Is it the crazy lady that doesn't drive so well?"

"No. It's another crazy driver."

We pass the SUV in the next lane.

"It's not a guy. That's a lady Mama! It's her! It's the CRAZY LADY that doesn't drive so well!"

Do you think they'd take him away from me if I taught him to flip her the bird?

My thoughts and wishes for a speedy recovery are with you Paul Newman!

Fire Station Open House

2008-06-11T15:57:00.000-07:00

Our local fire station had an open house last Saturday, so Robby got dressed up in his firefighter gear and we decided to go check it out. He had the most amazing time!

They had an old vintage firetruck there and were giving rides. We got in line as soon as we got there. After waiting about 5 minutes, they decided to take a 45 minute break. You have never seen a child throw such a fit as when Robby found out we were not going to ride that firetruck RIGHT NOW!

We went over to the area where they were letting kids spray a REAL! FIRE HOSE! with a REAL! FIRE FIGHTER! and soon the fit was over. Robby was so intent on spraying that hose correctly, and you could see the concentration on his face. This was serious business. They had set up a wooden structure with wooden flames that spun around when the water hit them.

We then went and listened to the fire fighters talk about the equipment they use at car accident scenes. We came in on the tail end of the demonstration, but Robby plopped right down on the ground and listened to them talk.

Then it was time for the Sheriff K-9 unit to show off the dogs. Robby climbed up in the vintage firetruck at had a bird's eye view. Although, he didn't really watch the dogs that much. He was too excited to be in a REAL! FIRETRUCK! These dogs were great and when they put the "drugs" in a box among many others for a dog to find, I couldn't help but hope someone standing in the circle around the demonstration was carrying.

After the dogs, the firetruck started up again and Robby got his ride. He was very quiet and I think in shock through the whole experience. We then went and looked at the fire station with the REAL! HELMETS! and REAL! JACKETS! and Robby had his first snow cone. A grape one, that he didn't care for too much. We went back and had some popcorn instead.

They gave demonstrations on how to use a fire extinguisher, and The Mama got to put out a REAL! FIRE! with one. I think that moved me up a few notches on the cool meter in his book.

It was a great afternoon and well worth him missing a nap to attend! Check out some pictures of the day on my FLICKR page.

He Ain't Heavy

2008-06-05T13:33:00.001-07:00

I ran across this picture at The Grandma's house when I was in Arizona. This is me at age 14 holding my new little baby brother, otherwise known as Uncle Mike. Despite looking quite bershon in the picture, I loved my baby brother then almost as much as I do 27 years later.

For various reasons, that won't be blogged about here, I felt a need to protect my brother when he was a baby. Because of this and 14 years separating us, we haven't always had what I'd call the "normal" brother-sister relationship. I think our relationship took a dramatic change while we were in Arizona caring for our mother.

When the heart surgery was over, the doctors told us that mom would have to have someone with her 24/7 for the first two weeks she was out of the hospital. Financially, this was going to put a huge strain on my life. Not to mention the fact that I had already been away from Robby longer than I had ever been. I was already making plans to get Robby to Arizona and make that call to my boss telling him I'd be away for a little while longer. So, it came as a shock when Mike suggested that he be the one to stay and take care of everything. When he first proposed the idea, it seemed ludicrous and not even worth considering. Afterall, I am the one who takes care of everything.

Somewhere in the middle of him stating all the reasons why he should be the one to stay, it hit me that my being the one who takes care of everything is a choice I make over and over again. And if it's a choice, then maybe I did have the option of not being that person this time. Entertaining this idea became a reality when Mike said that he wanted to have this chance to do something, and not always be the one who f*cks up all the time.

In the end, he stayed and I went home. I don't know what happened to that kid who played drums in the garage bands, slept until noon, had twelve W-2's in one year, and always came to me when he had a problem. Somewhere along the way he became the brother that gives me money when I need it, installs a dog door for me, stays calm when I get stressed out and loves my son almost as much as I do. He's getting married later this month and although I'm so very happy for him I can't help but miss the feeling of cradling him in my arms and protecting him from life.

Being his big sister showed me how much I truly wanted to be The Mama someday. I know I do a better job at it because he's in my life. For that alone, I owe my little brother the world.

The One Where the Locust Arrive

2008-05-20T15:30:00.000-07:00

Hello from home.

I arrived back last Wednesday and things have been crazy since.

On Tuesday night, The Nanny (my grandma) went in for a sleep study to see why she fainted last week. She called me at 12:30am and told me I needed to come pick her up because they couldn't finish the tests. Her heart rate was high and the paramedics said it wasn't anything life threatening. WHAT? They said she should follow up with her doctor the next day.

On Wednesday, I got her a doctor's appointment scheduled for 3:30 pm. The Grandma's heart rate had been steady for over 24 hours. I said goodbye to them both and left for the airport. Uncle Mike would take over alone until Auntie LJ arrived on Sunday.

While I was actually in the air, The Grandma's heart rate started going up and down again.

While I was actually in the air, The Nanny's doctor put her in the hospital.

Breathe.

At least they were in the same hospital, so Uncle Mike's life would be a little easier. The Nanny's heart was keeping blood too long and it was too thick, causing her heart rate to rise. Yes, the same thing was going on with her daughter 3 flights up in the hospital. They put her on a blood thinner and monitored her for 4 days. They moved her into a rehab unit attached to the hospital yesterday. She is doing well, but they want to monitor her for 5 to 7 days to make sure the blood thinner is working.

They put a pacemaker in The Grandma on Thursday. I wasn't there. She did great and everything looked like a go for a release from the hospital on Sunday. She did not go home on Sunday. She has fluid around one of her lungs and they had to take her off of the blood thinner yesterday, so they could go in today with a needle and remove the fluid around the lung.

Breathe.

The Grandma has been in the hospital for 3 weeks. Uncle Mike came home yesterday and now Auntie LJ is there.

Of course there was tons of DRAMA! thrown into all of this past week that I haven't told you about....yet.

Battle of the Surgical Stars

2008-05-13T17:01:00.000-07:00

I almost made it home.

I said goodbye to the Grandma at the hospital and left for the airport yesterday afternoon. 20 minutes later the phone rang. The Grandma was upset, understandably, as they just told her she would need a pacemaker. I went back to the hospital.

Her heart rate had been dropping to 50 and then jumping up to 160. She was exhausted and said she felt like she was running a race from her hospital bed. Her cardiologist (who looks like Balki from Perfect Strangers) felt that a pacemaker was indicated. He ordered the procedure and instructed the RN to stop food and water until they got the pacemaker in. I haven't had a lot of faith in Balki from the start. It took him 5 months of watching The Grandma sliding downhill after her heart attack to FINALLY get some tests done.

Her cardiovascular surgeon, Dr. V, is an arrogant man who looks like he could have been a hijacker on 9-11. After googling him, I assure you he has a reason to be arrogant and cocky. He is one of the best surgeons in the country it turns out. Dr. V disagreed with Balki and felt it would be rushing things to put a pacemaker in. Dr. V felt that she had post-op stress and they just needed to give it some time and adjust the medication they were giving her. He said she needed to eat, walk and take lots of deep breaths.

Dr. V came into her room yesterday afternoon and asked if she had eaten. The RN told him that Balki had ordered no food or water until the pacemaker procedure. Dr. V simply said, "Give her lunch." in a tone that no one would ever consider doing anything other than what he said.

Now the sign on the hospital door makes sense.

Dr. V won the battle and his opinion turned out to be the right one. The Grandma's heart rate has been steady for over 24 hours now and she looks and feels great. She will move out of ICU tonight and into another room in the hospital.

I am scheduled to fly home tomorrow afternoon.

Thanks again to everyone for their prayers and support.

Leap Of Faith

2008-05-11T15:22:00.000-07:00

Heart Surgery is not for wimps. The things The Grandma are going through are just horrible and yet at the same time, I am amazed at how quickly she is bouncing back. She got drainage tubes out yesterday and her color is infinitely better. It looks like she will stay in the ICU at least one more day though. Her heart rate keep fluctuating last night and this morning, although the doctor says this is normal in 80% on the cases he sees.

Being the daughter that normally takes care of everything, it feels strange to tell you that I am flying home tomorrow afternoon. I'm not staying until she gets out of the hospital. I'm not staying to clean her house and shop for healthy food before she gets home. All of these things are going to fall to Uncle Mike, the one who usually runs from anything like this, and he is up for the challenge. I know he will do a great job and that she will be okay. I will try to not cry too much when I say goodbye tomorrow and get on that plane.

Uncle Mike will stay another week until Auntie LJ can get here. She will stay a week and then Auntie Lori will take over for a week. If The Grandma still needs help after that, I will return. It all looks good on paper, but feels like crap to me. I feel like I should be here. Although I am full of gratitude for the two friends my mother has. Once again, I am at a point in my life where I must close my eyes, put my hand on my heart, and take that first step into nothingness and know that I will be okay and land on solid ground.

I am looking forward to going home and seeing Robby! He misses me I'm told, but he cannot miss me more than I miss him. He had a nightmare that Santa Claus stole his wahki (pacifier) a few nights ago. I need to go protect his possessions from that jolly old elf.

Re-Grand Opening

2008-05-08T20:41:00.000-07:00

She made it through surgery.

They finally got The Grandma in about 1:30 this afternoon. Five hours and four new valves later, we got the word she was out of surgery. Her surgeon said that it was a complicated and hard surgery but her heart looked good and everything should be okay.

Uncle Mike and I spent the first hour she was in surgery eating lunch and drinking a well earned margarita.

That stuff in the background is blue sky.

We spent the rest of the time in the ICU waiting room. I taught Uncle Mike how to play gin, although we were distracted by another lady in the waiting room who was a chatterbox prayer. Her husband had just come out okay through the same surgery and she had a LOT of nervous energy, poor thing.

We are going back to check on her tonight. She should be awake and hopefully will be off the respirator.

I saw this sign at the grocery store tonight.

I thought it a lot like mom's new lease on life and health.

Hello From Arizona

2008-05-07T16:17:00.000-07:00

The Grandma had her angiogram yesterday and called to say that she was being moved to a different hospital and that a quadruple bypass was on the surgical schedule. Uncle Mike and I flew in last night. It's nice to know I can get a call and be on a plane in less than 4 hours. As busy as my life seems and as important as I think I am; I guess it all comes down to priorities. (I was eating a Double Double with grilled onions at 1am.)

Phoenix is my hometown and usually she treats me well. I think she is on her period or something this trip. The plane hit the runway and the pilot literally locked up the brakes. The flight attendant came on the loudspeaker to welcome us to Phoenix and said she hoped this was our final destination. Everyone found it funny once they realized they were not going to die.

In my 4 hours notice, I booked a shuttle from the airport to The Nanny's house. I don't remember paying extra to get a celebrity driver, but low and behold Buck Henry stepped out of the passenger van to take my bag. I am probably showing my age and hopefully someone who reads this will know who Buck Henry is.) I think Mr. Henry had hemorrhoids. He sat in the driver's seat sideways and could not hold the steering wheel or the accelerator still for more than 2 seconds.

The Nanny sleeps with soap under the sheets at the foot of her bed (for leg cramps) and last night I thought there was a snake in the bed with me.

I got to meet the Bacon Nazi in the hospital cafeteria this morning.

It hasn't even been 24 hours and this trip is already memorable.

Robby thinks that The Grandma lives in an airplane now and that's why I got on a plane to go see her. I miss him so much I ache. You'd think I'd get to sleep in or something to make up for the fact that I can't hold him in my arms.

More updates to come.

Thanks to all for the support while I am here and all the thoughts and prayers for my mom.

Ruff Weather

2008-05-05T21:49:00.000-07:00

My life is now 38% easier.

Uncle Mike came and installed this on Saturday. It's a little strange having a hole cut in the side of your house (see my FLICKR page for the complete photo set) but it is totally worth it. I know Robby will eventually try to use the door, so I have prepared myself. I just hope I don't get a random opossum in the dining room one night.

Now I just need something to pick up the 14 tons of dog shit.

The Grandma is in the hospital again. She went in Friday evening and they have not let her come home. They are doing an angiogram tomorrow in hopes of finding what is causing her problems. It was not another heart attack this time, so we have that to be thankful for. Uncle Mike is flying to Arizona on Thursday night, as the angiogram was originally going to be done on this Friday.

The Nanny spent a night in the hospital last week as well. She passed out in the kitchen and conked her head and cracked some ribs. She is sore, but doing well.

See why I'm so excited about the dog door? It's the best thing that's happened in a week.

The Devil and Miss Jones

2008-04-25T14:56:00.000-07:00

My Life:

AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK AMUCK

March? When was that? Oh! I remember March!

St. Patrick's Day! Easter! Devon! BRUCE sang She's the One!

And I got sick! Again! I think the last round of antibiotics really worked. Poor Devon had a to take a shuttle to the airport, I was so sick. Luckily, I have very understanding and self reliant friends in my life.

Mom came and then spent yet another night in the hospital while visiting! She is not coming again without a clean EKG. It was fun with Robby in the ER. For about an hour, he decided he wanted to be a doctor. It was a nice break from his dreams of the fire department.

The light bulb has finally been lit in the portion of Robby's brain that tells him when he has "to go". After 7 months of sitting on the potty and saying, "Maybe next time?" he has finally began to actually use his time sitting there. Two days this week I was sprayed before I even got my morning coffee. Now that, my friends, is motherhood.

It has taken so much self restraint on my part to keep from picking up the camera/camcorder and capturing these moments for posterity. Robby stands in front of the toilet Ala Titanic

and squeezes as hard as he can and then shudders to make things happen. I swear if I made a video of the scene, Tom Petty's "Free Fallin'" would be the music. I still may break down and do it. It would be nice to have this video to look at when I'm 80 and all alone. Or maybe when Robby's 16 and feeling rather "too hip". I'm sure too hip is not at all hip today and it won't even be understood 14 years from now. Oh well. I amuse myself anyway.

The promise of spring has once again appeared this afternoon. I'm not sure I really buy it this time, but I plan on going outside and enjoying it while it lasts.

That last sentence sums up the month of March.

Like a Thief On a Sunday Morning

2008-03-09T21:05:00.000-07:00

Today seemed to go by so quickly. It seems like it shouldn't be so late...oh wait. That's right, today was the start of daylight savings time and I lost an hour. Damn! I WANT IT BACK!

Have you heard about the Florida woman who is under fire for punishing her 2 1/2 year old daughter by spraying her with a car wash hose? She was arrested, jailed for child abuse and released on $1,000 bail on Saturday. The child had no visible injuries when authorities examined her, 11 days after the incident. The car wash manager heard the child yelling and crying and saw the mother spraying the child and called the authorities. The incident was caught on video tape and from the reports I have read, the mother turned herself into the authorities.

The mother says the child was throwing a temper tantrum while in the car and she stopped the car at the car wash and used a high pressure hose to spray her child as a punishment. The mother says she did not use the high pressure option on the hose and did not hurt the child. The video tape shows her spraying her daughter repeatedly on the legs and in the face. She then removes the girl's wet clothing, wraps her in a towel and puts her back into the car. The mother is also 5 months pregnant.

Since the incident was caught on video, it has been a popular news story. Otherwise, I probably never would have heard the story. This may sound shocking, especially to anyone who's never raised a child who is 2 1/2, but I think in fairness, a video of the child throwing a temper tantrum in the car should be released as well before we all pass judgement. The child was not hurt physically, let's all remember that. This pregnant woman was jailed. I think that was a little harsh. I believe the incident should have been investigated, yes. But wouldn't the $1,000 be better spent on a parenting class for the mother rather than bail? This woman was trying to correct her child's behavior. Yes, I'm sure there are better ways, but yet again, I want to see the in car video. Educating her on different methods to discipline would seem the obvious choice to me.

I pondered this all day on Friday, and then came home and watched my local evening news. The top story of the day was not that Hillary Clinton was a "monster" . It was not on the ailing health of a hospitalized, Margaret Thatcher. It was a duck killing. Two truant teenagers, 15 and 17, decapitated a duck and pulled out eggs from inside the duck's body. Yeah, bad stuff. But unless PETA has editorial rights at the news station, there is no excuse for the coverage this story received. One of the tonight at eleven! teasers had the anchorwoman saying, "Two teenagers mutilated a pregnant duck and then what they did was horrific!" Think about that for a minute. Pregnant? Duck? Ducks lay eggs...right? The newscast had a reporter live on the scene at the pond with "disturbing scenes" to show us. Witnesses were outraged that while animal cruelty is a felony, these two boys will likely not go to prison over the incident. Prison?

Maybe taking the truant boys to a Florida car wash would be a more reasonable solution.

Leaping Lizards

2008-02-29T15:19:00.000-08:00

The snot creatures have invaded my head and chest. There has been some nasty bug going around for the past few months and I finally got the bastard. My head feels like it is going to explode. I can actually hear all the crap in my sinuses moving around. My chest is sore from coughing. Today is the first day the aching all over my body is tolerable. I hope this means I am getting better. Taking care of Robby has been a challenge and I would not have made it through this week without The Papa's help.

I wanted to let everyone know that I am still alive and will try to post more often in the month of March. I'm looking forward to all the great things happening next month! St. Patrick's Day! Easter! Bruce Springsteen! Oh My!

I hope everyone enjoyed their extra day and put it to good use. I worked for 5 whole hours and blew my nose a lot.

Red River Valley of the Shadow of Death

2008-02-21T22:54:00.000-08:00

When I was a child, my great grandmother had a stroke and was confined to her bed. She and my great grandfather lived with us after this happened. They were married over 50 years and one of my earliest memories is driving with my family back to Arkansas to their golden anniversary party. My great grandmother and I never missed Little House on the Prairie. We watched it together every single week.

I remember the first time I saw the episode where Ma Ingalls finds out she is going through the change. I remember her crying and saying that she felt useless to Pa because she could not bear him any more children. She was afraid he would not want her anymore; her purpose on this earth was gone. I thought she was crazy then, in the 70's as a girl who had not yet met her Aunt Flow. I still do.

I can understand her feeling a little sad at the thought of not having another baby. I've felt that. The "because one is enough" byline of this blog is not only referring to Robby's dimple. It also reminds me that he will be my only child and to make it enough. I imagine in real prairie life though, Ma would have been thrilled.

They had no television and the sun went down early on the prairie. Doc Baker had no birth control to offer and she couldn't get a pack of Trojans at the mercantile. She had to be tired too. She did all the cooking, cleaning, childcare and still had to substitute at the school every now and then. She worked as hard as Pa did; maybe even a little more at times. I think my great grandmother could relate to her though. She was a farmer's wife with seven children of her own. I like to think that she respects the different choices I have made. And I also hope she knows how much respect and admiration I have for the strength, sense of family and abundant love she lavished on everyone she met. Thanks, grandma. I miss you.

Brilliant Disguise

2008-02-20T22:29:00.000-08:00

This is The Mama's senior picture from high school. Doesn't she look like a normal teenage girl in 1984? There are a lot of things you can't see in this picture. Although the photographer can see her fine, she cannot see him or even his camera for that matter. Lasik was still 16 years away when this was taken and normally her face would be hidden by very large, very thick plastic-framed glasses. You remember the frames where the ear pieces attached to the bottom of the frames and not the middle? Yeah, those. They were great for peripheral vision, if you weren't too nearsighted to have peripheral vision. Let's talk about the hair. I want to reach into the photo and change her hair. It looks like she slept on it wrong and then curled it the best she could. She has these ears that stick out and spent countless hours trying to cover them up with her hair. I find it quite shocking that I see this girl of 17 so much differently today. I hated this picture when it was taken, and it was the best pose. When I look at it now, I see such a young face with no scars or wrinkles. Her neck isn't really that fat. It was insane for her to worry about it so much. Her eyes haven't bulged out yet. That won't happen for another 7 years with the Graves Disease. I want to tell her that she has the most beautiful eyes.

If I could go back in time and talk to her for just a few minutes, I would tell her a lot of things. I'd start off by telling her how beautiful she is. I know she wouldn't believe me though. She'd think I saw her differently than the rest of the world. She had a big wall up around her heart when it came to a lot of things, including her self-image. I'd tell her that she was about to face one of the toughest years of her life. A year full of choices to be made by a girl who is out of her comfort zone and has no tools in her arsenal to help her make better choices. I'd tell her that she will survive, as she always has, but this time the price for that survival will be high. I'd tell her that she will meet another young girl this year, when she goes off into that big scary world, and this girl will be a life long friend. I'd tell her that one day the two of them will hold each other's children and feel pure joy. I'd tell her not to push her roommate up against the wall by her throat. I'd tell her that although she will feel alone at times, she really is not alone at all.

I would like to shake her out of the obsessive behaviors and feelings. She is so infactuated with that 17 year old boy though, she can't see anything else. She will sing to him on his doorstep for christsake! She has this loyalty, for lack of a better word, for anyone she loves. Loyalty is an admirable quality, but not when given when it's not wanted or deserved. When her love isn't returned by this boy her heart will break. She will do what she did when it happened the first time someone she loved let her down. She will pretend. She will live in fantasy and not reality. She will make excuses for him. She will spend every waking minute trying to figure out what she can do to make it right; to make her right, so she will be loved in return.

I'd tell her that he will turn out to be someone she doesn't even like or respect one day. I'd tell her that one day she will thank God for unanswered prayers.

I'd tell her to put herself first. I'd tell her to love herself first.

If I could make her listen, could I really change the course of her life? Would I want to?

Brian Setzer at 2

2008-02-14T22:31:00.001-08:00

Loose Change

2008-02-13T13:43:00.001-08:00

The sun is actually shining right now. I don't know how long I will be able to sit here and type before the urge to run outside and scream with joy overtakes me. I moved to the Pacific Northwest in August of 1992. Winter here can be rainy for those of you who may not know. (Who am I kidding, everyone watched Frasier!) At least once every winter the rain gets to me. Today was the day it got to me in 2008.

I'm a desert chick born and raised. From Phoenix and the Mojave Desert to Washington State is like night and day. I love that everything here is green and clean. Logically, it makes sense that rain just facilitates what I love, but today I want to jump a plane for Phoenix and sit on my mom's lanai in the 85 degree sunshine and eat grapefruit off her tree.

Valentine's Day looms on horizon just in case I'm not feeling gloomy enough. Who the hell thought up this holiday? See's Candies? Hallmark? If I catch another Zale's commercial with that annoying music I will go insane. This will be the first VD since The Papa and I separated and then divorced. I wasn't expecting it to be an easy time, but I didn't think I would be so pissy about the whole thing. Heartbroken? Yeah, understandable. But pissy? Robby and I made VD cards for family and friends. I admit that was a lot of fun. We also addressed VD cards for his classmates last night. We had a parent sign-up sheet for treats to bring to the big party for the kids. I signed up for cheese. See? Pissy!

Anyway, if you look at VD as a day to be with someone you love and loves you back, it should be a great day for me.

Hope you spend it with someone as wonderful!

Shameless Exploitation

2008-02-06T22:27:00.000-08:00

Anyone who has ever had dinner at my house knows to expect a choice of at least 5 different salad dressings for their salad. They also know that all 5 will be Newman's Own. All of his products are not only wonderful tasting (unless you are like me and do not like black pepper. Then avoid his ranch dressing and salsa) and always made with a lot of love. As you probably know, Newman's Own has donated over $200 million to charity to date from the sales of its products. My plea to you, Gentle Reader, is that the next time you are in the market and have a choice to buy Newman's Own, please do so. You won't be disappointed with the taste and you can be a part of something that makes a difference in the lives of so many.

I've been obsessed with Newman's Own products for many years now. I've tried them all; salad dressing, spaghetti sauce, lemonade, limeade, popcorn, salsa, marinade, steak sauce... ice cream. True fans will remember the ice cream. The ice cream disappeared off the shelves several years ago despite my constant letters and emails begging for its return. Obscene. Vanilla. Bean. I cry for you. The Papa even included Newmans Own references in his love letters to me when we first started dating.

How Paul Newman and his partner A.E. Hotchner started this endeavor is a great story and one I recommend. Most will remember Mr. Newman for his acting; a few for his racing. I think his is one of the greatest stories of someone making a difference with their lives. He's one of my heros.

Since there is no ice cream to be had, I will just have to take some Fig Newmans (from his organic line) and milk to bed tonight. God bless you, Mr. Newman, wherever you are.

Stir Crazy

2008-02-03T21:58:00.000-08:00

Well another Groundog's Day has come and gone. It looks like we will be stuck with 6 more weeks of this cold, wet and miserable weather. Due to the global warming going on outside, we spent most of the weekend indoors. We got an early start on our Valentine's Day cards and did a little house cleaning. He was in a good mood for most of the weekend and when he wasn't I just sent him to his room for an attitude adjustment....

...works everytime. He ate constantly this weekend so he must be starting another growth spurt.

I ran across yet another article about the over the counter cold medications not being safe for kids. As a parent, I really don't know what to think about all of this. So far, they have only "officially" issued a warning for children under 2, but they are still researching the 2 - 6 age group. I think that news is enough for any parent to call it "official". I know I am not going to reach for a bottle at the first sign of a sniffle. I know I am going to do some research and write a few letters and encourage the powers that be to make it a priority for the CDC and FDA to figure this out. I won't even get started about the vaccine vs autism controversy. That's another post.

The Van Pelt Family

2008-01-30T22:05:00.000-08:00

Like many other kids out there, Robby has a blanket that he LOVES! and carries around with him everywhere he can. It's only been to daycare the few times that it was absolutely necessary for the sanity of all parties involved. It's a Classic Pooh blanket with Pooh and Tigger. Jody and Jack gave it to him before he was even born. Since he carries it everywhere you can imagine how dirty it can get. I wish I could add a link that would let you smell how foul it gets as well. He covers up Maggie or Chloe and calls them his baby. He uses it as a weapon and flings it. Cousin Elvis the wonderbeagle runs up and tries to grab it from him. Robby hangs on for dear life just like Linus.

Getting the blanket away from Robby and into the washing machine should be the next olympic sport. Recognizing that moment when all emotions align just so and seizing that moment are critical to success. Tonight was one of those nights.

This is Monday's lunch of PB & J. Yesterday, he actually looked at it and told me it was peanut butter and jelly. Then he tried to eat it off the blanket.

This isn't the best picture, but if you look close you can see grime and what may be blood(?)

Here we have what I call "special woogies" from last week's cold. If you don't know what a woogie is, be thankful.

These are tire treads from being ran over repeatedly with a tricycle. There's some garage floor grease thrown in as well.

This is the runner up in the blanket department. If for any reason the Pooh Blanket is unable to fulfill its role as security blanket, Airplane Blanket will wear the crown. It is one of the fleece-tie blankets I made a little over a year ago.

Because it is fleece, it attracts both dog hair and funky odors.

I had a Drowsy that I took everywhere. She only looked this clean for the first two hours that I had her. Mom, if you are reading this, I am sorry I chose a doll for my security blanket. I know she couldn't go through the washing machine and while I can't remember her smelling anything but comforting; I'm sure she had a fragrance that inspired Glade.

Three weeks ago was one of those days that blanket went to daycare. Mom was still here visiting and recuperating from the heart attack. When Robby and I got home, I realized that I had failed to make sure that blanket came home too. PANIC drove the car back to the daycare center and made it through the doors before they closed for the night. Mom reminded me of how I had once left Drowsy in a store and we were there first thing the next morning waiting for the doors to open. Robby, your Mama may be a Lucy Van Pelt most of the time, but remember there's a little bit of Linus in all of us.

Creative Plumbing

2008-01-29T23:26:00.001-08:00

Watching Bob The Builder has finally paid off! I managed to repair a toilet this evening without the help of Lofty, Scoop or Rolly. All I had to ask my self was, "Can I fix It?".

Yes. I. Can.

The only part that really gave me any trouble was getting the bolt off the bottom of the toilet tank. You're gonna laugh at me Internet but I swear I used Astroglide to get the bolt off. (It's about time something got off in this house.)

Whole Lotta Feelin' Goin' On

2008-01-28T23:31:00.000-08:00

Robby spent this last weekend with The Papa. He woke up this morning in his own bed and called for me as usual. When I went into his room he started saying he wanted his Papa over and over. I told him Papa was at Papa's house and this only upset him more. A few minutes of keeping our morning routine of snuggling in the chair in his room and he was fine. So fine in fact that he kissed me several times, smiled and said, "I love you, Mama". He has said that he loves Mama before, but it is usually preceded by an "I love Robby" or me asking him if he loves me. I think this is first time he genuinely said those words. My heart melted. Going from feeling guilty for keeping him from his Papa; the selfish feelings of wanting him to love me more than anyone else in the world; to feeling blissfully complete took all of five minutes.

As I reflect on this morning I can't help but feel proud as a parent. I allowed him to feel upset. I showed him it was okay to want someone else and that I would love him through it. I want him to be safe in feeling anything in front of me and know that I will be right here loving him. I've witnessed first hand a parent using this exact situation to comfort themselves and tell the child that the other parent doesn't love them as much. My Dad did that. It made me feel like I couldn't miss my Mom without betraying his love. It made it not okay to miss Mom in front of Dad at a time when my nine year old heart desperately needed someone to hold her and tell her it was okay.

I also can't help but wonder why I've been so judgemental of my own feelings over the past several months. I paid good money to have a professional tell me it was okay to feel the way I felt at any given time. I think today, finally, some of that may have sunk in.

My son, may your sins be your own.

The Begats

2008-01-24T22:47:00.000-08:00

Dear Nasty Cough,

I know you are having a great time visiting Robby's chest and you and all the mucus have made plans to start filming a new commercial for that productive cough medicine. I know mucus has already picked up his greenest slimiest suit from the pea soup factory. Despite all of this it is simply time to go.

All the scary FDA warnings and investigations about cold medicines and children under six were a brilliant strategy. In fact, they worked for almost a week now. The fatal flaw in your devious plan to invade his bronchial tubes was that you forgot the begats.

Alma was a farmer's wife for more than 50 years. Deep in the Ozarks, she raised more children than the typical Mormon family of today. She had no local pharmacy or FDA to aid her in healing the many illness and diseases that struck her children over the years. Instead, she had good old fashioned common sense. It was this common sense applied to whatever medicine or home remedy she had at her disposal that drove all those childhood coughs and colds away.

Alma begat Alice, know as "the kerosene lady" in one Arizona hospital. When her grandchild got stuck in a barbed wire fence in the woods, Alice applied kerosene to kill any nasty germs that might have been lurking in that fence. Then she took the child to the doctor as soon as they were back to where the doctors were. No lock jaw ever occurred, though some wish today that it would have.

Alice begat Norma Jean. The same Norma Jean who simply decided that because she and her son got food poisoning from a local Taco Bell, this would not be a place they would eat at again. Common sense in it purest form.

Norma Jean begat The Mama, and The Mama said screw the FDA, he's coughing up a lung and it will stop now. The Mama got out the Tussin CF and an oral syringe and fulfilled her maternal destiny tonight. Up yours cough!

Sincerely,
The Mama

The Nexus

2008-01-23T22:00:00.000-08:00

Acceptance. That was my New Year's wish and what I ask God for every night before I go to sleep. It hasn't come yet. I know I am an impatient person. I'm a real instant gratification kind of a gal. I have a feeling acceptance isn't something that you can see happening. Maybe you just wake up one morning and realize you've got it?

Why is acceptance so vital for me to have? It's Wednesday. The Papa sees Robby every Wednesday. I see The Papa every Wednesday. Don't get me wrong, the other 6 days of the week all cry for acceptance too but Wednesday is the day that screams the loudest. If I have acceptance, every thing he does not say, does not feel will not be a burning needle piercing my chest. Tonight, he made a reference to miniature golf and one of our first dates.* Although I acted like it was a normal topic, (and aren't I all grown up and sophisticated for being able to discuss this, by the way, thank you) it had the most abnormal emotional undertone screaming through my stomach. I wanted to scream, "How can you even think about a time when we were so happy and not be absolutely frantic and devastated about what we gave up?"
*Please understand Gentle Reader, that what I speak of here is of no fault of The Papa. He doesn't do anything to make me feel the way I do. I alone own my reactions and feelings, and they are the only monsters here.

What do I need to accept? That he is over us? That he isn't in love with me anymore? That he feels okay about walking away? I have to accept these things because they are not mine; they are his. Or maybe what I need to accept is that he is not going to be by my side (no matter who's choice that is) and I can still create a life I want to live. The life I have now is not what I thought I would have. Most days, I don't even know how I got to this place where I come home and the one I was going to share my life with is gone. How the hell did this happen? I'm so angry that's what's happened. Maybe the acceptance can't move in until the anger moves out.

It occurred to me driving home that maybe I was not getting acceptance because I didn't want to accept them. I don't want them. I choose option e) none of the above. I thought about that for a minute and realized that was the whole reason for wanting the all allusive acceptance. It's a loop. I'm the Dr. Soran of divorce and by God I can get back in the Nexus; or die trying.

I know in my head that I can create a life that is fun, enriching and worthwhile. I know I have a lot to bring to a new relationship. I know I will strive to be an amazing mother every day for the rest of my life. Knowing these things and not feeling them in my heart is the problem. The heart wants what it wants and to hell with all the other body parts. I guess that's where the saying "your heart isn't in it" came from. I want my heart to be in my life again.

For that, I need acceptance.

Black-Eyed Peas

2008-01-21T13:18:00.000-08:00

Goodbye and Goodriddance to 2007!

2007 started with my marriage falling apart and ended with my mom having a heart attack on December 30th. Everything in between was the most horrific 12 months of my life. Divorce, breast cancer, funerals, hospitals and 22 year old rally chicks are not welcome to my 2008.

My grandmother always made me eat black-eyed peas on New Year's Day. She said they would bring me luck in the coming year. I HATE black-eyed peas. I would eat exactly two every year. This year, I ate a big bowl of them. I hope it works.

Let's all drink a toast to a year of love, laughter, friendship, acceptance and contentment.

The Young Promise Keepers Republican Society

2007-10-16T19:59:00.000-07:00

I recently read another mom's blog (I'm not saying who) about how her son was crushed that he would not be able to be a boy scout this year because his family are atheists. The Girl Scouts are okay with her daughter just leaving the God part out of her Girl Scout oath. Apparently, the Boy Scouts are not so inclined. This really didn't surprise me, since the Boy Scout Council openly excludes anyone who is gay, knows someone who is gay or has not attended a KKK meeting. (Don't get all excited, I'm only paraphrasing!)

I admit, when reading this my first reaction was to judge her a bad mother for not letting her son choose what he wants. I have this nasty habit of judging people too hastily. Then, my second thought was what would I do if it were Robby and he wanted to join the Young Promise Keepers Republican Society? Yikes! I'd like to think that I would let him choose to think for himself and have faith in what nourishes his soul. If I set a good example in my own life, not teach hate, fill our lives with diverse people and cite all the times George Bush has violated the Constitution...will it be enough? And when the whole GOD thing gets thrown into the mix, my head really starts to hurt.

I was raised Southern Baptist. I don't consider myself a Southern Baptist though. The Papa was raised Jewish. A strange mix that might possibly confuse a child. His childhood will be filled with Decembers where he lights the menorah and sings Silent Night. My hope is this will only illustrate for him that people believe different things and that is what makes life rich and full of flavor.

Robby currently attends a daycare facility that is sponsored by the Lutheran church. I chose the facility based on a recommendation and because I can run there from my office in 3 minutes flat if needed. When I enrolled him, I specifically asked Dumbledore (the principal) if they showed gory images of Christ on the cross. (They don't.) They do pray before eating and more than a few times at dinner I've already had the fork in my mouth when Robby has started reciting, "God is great, God is good..." and the feelings of guilt and confusion come crashing down as fast as my fork.

This whole issue is one that I need to spend some serious thought (and prayer) on. I know what I believe. I feel confident, peaceful and content in my beliefs. So why do I question if they are good enough for my son?

Just Robby

2007-10-15T22:02:00.000-07:00

Last night, Robby and I were having dinner and discussing what kind of a dog we would like to get. He decided on a big, green dog named Wahki. (He agreed with me that we should get a girl dog at least.) He looked so adorable sitting there having this conversation. I couldn't help but ask him, "Are you my little angel?".

He replied with the most serious of faces, "No. I'm just Robby."

2007-09-26T16:29:00.000-07:00

Something

2007-09-22T23:00:00.000-07:00

After taking every detour
Gettin' lost and losing track
So that even if I wanted
I could not find my way back

After drivin' out the memory
Of the way things might have been
After I'd forgotten all about us
The song remembers when

Well, for all the miles between us
And for all the time that's passed
You would think I haven't gotten very far

And I hope my hasty heart
Will forgive me just this once
If I stop to wonder how on earth you are

But that's just a lot of water
Underneath a bridge I burned
And there's no use in backtracking
Around corners I have turned

Still I guess some things we bury
Are just bound to rise again
For even if the whole world has forgotten
The song remembers when

-Hugh Prestwood The Song Remembers When

Borrow A Cup Of Formaldehyde?

2007-08-29T21:22:00.000-07:00

Living on a cul de sac is a wonderful thing when you are a Gladys Kravitz type like me. I know everyone's name and what time they should be home everyday. All the neighborhood kids think I am cool because they use my driveway as the bicycle launching ramp and I don't care. I know the couple 3 doors down have affairs. I know the man across the way tried to add on to his house without getting a permit. I'll never turn him in because he got my dog off the roof once when I wasn't home.

The couple who live next to me (I call them Dork and Dindy) have not opened their blinds in 10+ years. No lie! Not even a crack. I bought this house from a friend who never saw them open a blind either in the five years he lived here. These neighbors are the type that don't smile or wave back at you when you see each other leaving or coming home. I liked them a little more when I convinced myself they were into kinky sex in their living room or had a sex slave and couldn't open the blinds. As it turns out, they are just assholes. Crazy assholes. I was pregnant for nine months, had a baby I walked in the stroller or played with in the front yard and never a word or a smile. Then I was out washing the car in the driveway one afternoon and Robby was in the stroller watching me. You can imagine my shock when Dork got his mail from his mailbox and started walking right towards me. I thought for sure he was finally going to say something about what an adorable child I had brought forth into this world. Instead he proceeded to not only not mention this or even say hello.

Dork:

We were noticing that you leave your garage door open a lot. Aren't you afraid
of burglars? We even close our door when we are home and working in the
backyard.

Me:

Well...when it is open, we are always home. The garage door opener is directly
under the crib and sometimes we don't want to close the door when Robby is
taking a nap. It's so loud it sometimes will wake him. We've never had a problem
with burglars before. Have you?

Dork:

We've had mice. But we have cats.

I had no idea how to respond to that so I just said it was nice talking and went back to washing the car. Now I admit I sometimes still imagine they have a sex slave. Only now its head is in their freezer.

Listening 101

2007-08-27T22:40:00.000-07:00

From the beginning, I have always talked to Robby like he could understand what I was saying. I started this when he was still inside my body. I would tell him about what we were eating, watching on television or what horrible things George Bush was up to. Once he was outside of my body, it felt natural to just keep doing it. When he started talking, he would mostly parrot what I was saying with one word statements like TRUCK! or ELEPHANT! Next, the one word statements turned into mini-sentences that showed me he was starting to put all those words together. He would say things like, “Robby go outside” and “Eat Blueberries”. I was thrilled he could communicate his thoughts and desires to me. When I asked him what he dreamed about as we snuggled in the rocking chair in the mornings, he would tell me. (Usually it was elephants.) Last week at bath time, I realized that he has now taken it to the next level; independent thought.

Since his first bath, I’ve always held him up to watch the last bit of water leave the tub and disappear down the drain. As the last bit of suds leave, I always say, “Bye-Bye bath water. See you next time!” About a month ago, we were watching the tub drain and I told him that the water was going to the ocean. I didn’t even think he really heard me say it. He did though. He pointed to the water as it was draining and told me that it was going to the airport. “The airport?” I thought I misunderstood him but he then told me that the water had to go to the airport to go to the ocean. You have to go to the airport to get to far away places like Arizona where Grandma lives, so why wouldn’t the water have to go to the airport to get to the ocean? It makes perfect sense if you think about it.

Think about it, I have. How many times have I continued to have our conversations and not stopped to hear if he has a response? Admittedly, this is a new concept for him and me both so I can’t be too critical of my parenting skills on this matter. But then I asked myself how often I do the exact same thing with people in my life that can comprehend and respond? What about people who can comprehend and choose not to respond?

That’s a subject I’ll leave for another time.

RIP New Wahky

2007-08-04T09:37:00.000-07:00

Last night was the first night I have ever spent away from Robby. I was so afraid it was going to be this horrible experience; filled with constant monitor checks and crying. Instead, I slept for about 11 hours. Ahhh. Sleep. I remember it well.

When I dropped Robby of at the Papa's apartment for the night, Robby was fine. In fact, he started saying, "Bye" to me as I was sitting on the couch talking to The Papa. I am so grateful that Robby is okay with all of this. I wouldn't want him to be any other way. I'd be lying though if I didn't confess a little twinge of pain as Robby closed the door behind me so rapidly after I walked through it. Maybe all the times I've told him "Mama's ALWAYS come BACK" has paid off.

We didn't get much sleep the night before for many reasons. First, I signed the final divorce papers that day and I'm sure Robby could sense the cloud of sadness lurking over my head. Second, tragedy struck when we got home from daycare. New wahky (binky) was broken beyond use. Robby was heart broken and repeatedly asked for New Wahky all night. Old Wahky was fine until 1 am. I remember the day we bought New Wahky. It was the first time We went grocery shopping since The Papa moved out. I was much too tired to be grocery shopping with an almost 2 year old, but the cupboard was BARE. Robby bit through his wahky and proceeded to throw the biggest tantrum of his life. I've seen kids throw tantrums in stores for many years and could never understand why their mothers didn't handle the situation properly. All the times I had told myself I would always remove my child from the store if he ever threw such a fit were playing back in my head as I pushed the cart to the baby isle, grabbed a package of pacifiers and opened it right on the spot. New Wahky and a big dose of understanding for The Mama was born.

Lastly, Robby picked that night to crawl out of his crib for the first time. At 3:30 am, I finally put Robby in his crib with a book and told him he HAD to go to sleep. Nothing else I had tried had coaxed him to sleep. I listened as he screamed for 9 minutes and then fell asleep. At 6 am when I heard him going through his normal morning routine of babbling the plot of a book he was looking at, I got out of bed and went to his room. I opened the door and saw that he was not in his nice safe crib where I left him but sitting in the chair smiling at me. Once my heart started beating again, we went through our normal morning routine.

I'm sure I'll always remember that day. All in all, it wasn't too bad though. I'm amazed at how we got through it so well. The sun still comes up, the Cherrios are still stuck to the bowl in the kitchen sink and the laughter and hope for a brighter future are still here.

2007-08-01T23:59:00.000-07:00

August 1, 2007

Dear Robby,

This isn’t a birthday letter. It’s probably one the hardest I’ll ever have to write.
Tomorrow, your Papa and I are getting divorced.

I know you’re only two and don’t understand what is happening completely. I’m actually very grateful for that. I know one day you will want to know why. Maybe this letter will help, although I don’t think anyone really ever knows all the parts that created the “why”.

The craziest part of all of this is that your father and I still love each other very much. I will never stop loving your father. Half of what you are is him; so how could I ever stop loving him? When I look at you I can see parts of him in your looks and your personality. I always smile when I notice these traits in you. Your father and I have been hurting for a long while now. We’ve both tried everything possible to make this marriage work. We just couldn’t do it. I guess that sometimes love isn’t enough to make everything all right. If it was, this letter would never be written.

I want you to know that you were brought into this world with so much love, passion and excitement. You were created out of the love your Papa and I have for each other. I don’t think either one of us will ever regret our marriage. Not only because of you, but because it was a very special love. If I can say this now when I feel like I am going to choke on all the sadness in my heart, I know I will be able to say it forever.

People grow and change. Dreams change, expectations change and lives change. Looking back, I wish that I had seen some warning signs that we were drifting apart in what we wanted. It’s like one day I looked up and realized that we didn’t want the same things out of life. No amount of nagging or begging could ever change that. How can you change another person? You can’t. You can only love and respect them for who they are. I can do that with your father; I just can’t do it as his partner in life anymore. So, if you one day feel like you need to be angry at or blame one of us for divorcing, you’re just going to have to blame us both. There is no right and wrong involved. It isn’t black and white. We’ve both done right and we’ve both done wrong. Your father and I both want the best for you out of life. That will never stop or change. I want us to be able to want the best out of life for each other as well. It’s just hard to know that you aren’t the best choice for the one you love. No matter how much you want to be the best choice.

I am fighting the urge to apologize to you for all of this happening. I am sorry that you will not remember how it was when Mama and Papa lived together with you. You won’t remember the laughter we shared or the joy in our eyes when we looked at you. Please know that it once was there. I guess that’s the trade off for you not remembering the sadness in our eyes today.

I want it to be completely clear to you that in no way were you the cause of this happening. You have absolutely nothing to do with any problems your father and I have. I repeat: you are not the reason we are getting a divorce. Never think that, okay? You can always come to either one of us and ask or talk about anything; even this. Our first and foremost thought in all of this has not been who gets what book or dish. It has been making sure that you are taken care of in the best possible way. You are the most important thing to both of us. The love a person has for their child is a different love than any other. It’s more special than any other. That love can never falter. It can only grow and amaze you for your capacity to love. I don’t know everything, but this I know for sure. I wake up more amazed every single day.

Love,
Mama

Separation Anxiety

2007-06-05T21:59:00.000-07:00

Hi. I know I haven't posted in awhile. The Papa and I separated about 6 weeks ago. I've had a hard time concluding how I would write about all of this and post it here for everyone, including The Papa, to see. I'm sure I will post things that will hurt him on this site. I think the subject matter alone is enough to hurt him. I know that I have a need to write about my life though and I can't filter out the worst thing that I've ever been through and write about just potty training and the weather. I must address the rather large elephant in the living room at some point. I do know that I have no intentions of being cruel, either here or in the real world. I will always try to write with compassion and love.

I can't tell you all about how he cheated on me, stole the family bible or beat me. I can't because he didn't do any of those things. He's a good and decent man. I love him still and will until the day I die. The sad part is I've only just discovered that love isn't always enough. Sounds like some sad song from the 90's. As of today, I have not filed for divorce. I don't know what tomorrow brings. I've spent the past six weeks trying to think of any way I can to fix this marriage. I haven't let myself start a new life and I won't let myself go back to the old life. I'm stuck somewhere in the middle. Emotionally, it has been a wild ride but things are more clear to me now than they were six weeks ago, last week or even yesterday. I guess I can call that progress.

If It Ain't #1; It's in the Top Two...

2007-04-30T23:51:00.000-07:00

Scrub List

Find somewhere between rage and devestation to live.

The List

2007-04-16T21:36:00.000-07:00

Several years ago, my friend Mitch, the Super-Duper Life Coach, suggested I create a list called, "Ten Daily Habits". Basically, it's a list of 10 things I need to do everyday to make my life run smoothly and joyfully. This list has been on my refrigerator ever since. Over the years it has moved from the front of the freezer door to the side of the refrigerator over the trash can. Tonight, I really looked at the list for the first time in too many years.

1. Take Medication/Vitamins

Is ice cream a vitamin? I haven't regulary taken a vitamin since they pulled Robby out.

2. Wear 1 Thing That Makes Me Smile

This used to be a shirt in my favorite color or a pair of jeans my ass looked good in. Today it made me smile that I had a clean pair of 10 year old jeans. Am I the only one who misses tapered-leg jeans and big hair?

3. 20 Minutes of Stress Relief

I remember this was my compromise for the word exercise. I didn't want to have to exercise everyday, so I wrote this instead. Is nicotine a stress reliever?

4. Keep Commitments

OK! Finally something I still try to do everyday. Today, I just don't commit to something/someone as often as I used to and I try never to work on a deadline. Accomplishment through avoidance. WooHoo!

5. Connect With One Person

This means truly have a meaningful interaction with another human (ie not isolate myself). If Robby counts, and I think he should, I have done this daily for going on 21 months.

6. One Scrub Item Completed

A "scrub item" is something on your to do list. The concept being that if you have too many things to do nagging at you there is no room left for the good stuff to come into your life. I used to have an actual Scrub List I would add to when something came up and cross things off as I completed them. The phrase "Do It, Dump It or Delegate It" was my mantra. Today this list is in my head and I do stuff when I have free time. Ok, stop laughing.

7. Floss

I went to the dentist for the first time in a little over 2 years last month. Yeah, I got the lecture. I used to keep the floss by the TV so I could do it as I watched Survivor or some other vital hour of must see television. (Note to self: Put floss by TV on To Do List)

8. Write in Journal

Journal? What about a BLOG, does that count? My guess is that unless I actually post it doesn't.

9. Read For Pleasure

I can hear all the parents out there laughing. Read? When? I used to be an avid reader. Now I'm lucky if I get to read an article in Parents magazine while on the toilet with out being interrupted. From the day he was born, Robby knowns when Mama is reading, eating or having sex.

10. 7 Hours of Sleep

Now the parents out there are really getting a kick out of this list. I admit I'm lucky when it comes to this. Except for the occasional night, Robby sleeps through the night. He goes to bed around 7 to 7:30 and sleeps until 6 or 7. (Except the last three mornings when he's gotten up around 5.) If I can't manage 7 hours in there, I blame myself.

When I tried to revise the list for my life today I found that it pretty much stayed the same. Except for the reading. That needs to go on another list - for now. The needs I was trying to meet when I originally wrote the list are the same today as they were all the years ago. To me, that's a sign of something worth keeping. When I first made the list I remember how good I felt at the end of the day. Just being aware of these needs was powerful for me. When I'd go to bed each night I would review all that I'd accomplished that day and feel like it was a day well spent. I miss that feeling. Lately when I do this all my accomplishments have been either housework or moneymaking-work. Yes, true they are things that have to be done. Still, I ask myself why I have been placing more value on the laundry than my needs. (There's a question from a post-it-note, Devon!)

I'm making a new Scrub List this week! Stay tuned.

Photo Opp

2007-04-10T23:06:00.000-07:00

The dimple was in all of its glory Easter morning!

77 Days

2007-04-07T15:28:00.000-07:00

Spring sucks. Don’t get me wrong, I love all the sunshine, flowers blooming and getting to finally go “ow-sigh” as Robby puts it. It’s just that I can look back on my life and just about everything horrible thing that ever happened to me happened in the spring. I am an autumn person. I was born in November and good things happen to me in the fall. Related? I don’t know if my astrological sign has anything to do with it or not. How about your life? Are a summer baby and tragedy happens in the winter?

So far this spring I’ve had a process server at my door, have had so much congestion that I haven’t heard out of my right ear for going on 2 months, had major problems with my marriage and struggled with how to support a friend with cancer. How’s your spring going? Did I mention that when we drain the bathtub water leaks from the garage ceiling?

No one likes to hear about other people’s problems. I do not want to be the person you avoid because you really don’t want to hear about their latest tragedy. Everyone has problems. I know that my problems don’t compare to health problems, being homeless, having your house burn down or coping with a loved one’s death. I know. Robby is healthy, thriving and happy. Things could be a lot worse. I know. But despite all of that my problems are MY problems. They affect the daily quality of my life and the lives of those around me.

Attitude you say? Well, I’ve tried that. It doesn’t work in the spring for me. Normally, when life gets a little overwhelming and I get caught up in little mundane nuisances I will try to change my outlook. Service to others is one. If I get involved and help someone else, I find I am not so caught up in my own stuff and the good feeling of helping someone else is just the shot in the arm I need to move forward in my own life. This especially works if I think that the other person’s problems are much worse than mine. Then I get a bonus dose of gratitude as well. Accentuating the positive is always good when the “bluckys” strike as well. It’s hard for me to fake happiness though. So, when my nose is really up against “the wall” accentuating the positive only serves to piss me off more.
So what’s a girl to do? I’m doing the best I can at any given moment throughout the day. Oh, and counting the days until summer officially starts.

Detour

2007-04-05T00:03:00.000-07:00

I wanted to share an amazing post I read the other day. It really got me thinking, which everyone knows is a dangerous thing. I was really struck by the line "Elation and sorrow live in the exact same place."

Check it out! http://lesbiandad.net/2007/03/29/sandbox-paradox/

Maybe if I keep reading the thought provoking posts of others I will be inspired to write.
Keep checking back to see please. Don't give up on me yet.

Paying It Forward

2007-03-26T20:47:00.000-07:00

We've been living in this house for 5 years to the day. I remember because that's the day my father died. I'd spent a week at the VA Hospital in Arizona and flew home the night he died. I know he waited for me to leave. My dad was like that; always wanting to do things his way. I'd like to think he did it out of love a little too. Like maybe he didn't want me to have to go through it the way he had to go through everyone in his life dying. When my dad was 6 weeks old his mother died of pneumonia. He never even knew her. When he was 14 his father died and basically he was on his own. I can't even imagine what that must have been like for him.

Robby wasn't born until my dad had been dead for over 3 years. He never got to see how amazingly perfect his grandson is. Robby is named for two grandfathers he never knew; two very different men. ThePapa's father was Robert and he left even before I got to meet him. We always knew we'd name him Robert if we were ever lucky enough to have him. It wasn't until I was quite pregnant that the desire appeared to name him after my father. I felt the need to somehow keep my father going. I was the only family my dad had left when he died. It seemed so sad that after I was gone, no one would be left to carry all the love he shared with me.

Today, 5 years down the road, I can sometimes see my father when I look at Robby. I see the lanky cowboy frame, the tender loving eyes and God help us all I see that determined look that lets everyone within 5 feet know how serious he is about getting what he wants. Can you see him from where you are dad? I hope so. I want you to see that all the love you gave me didn't go to waste. In the long run, I was paying attention to your heart more than your actions. If it wasn't for you, dad, there wouldn't be a Robert Charles. I miss you still.