The Crazy Fire Lady (Part 2)

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)

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.

Something Big Was Gone

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.

The Family We Get to Choose

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.

The Girl in the Bubble

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.

Lifestyles of the Gay and Famous

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.

Everything's Eventual

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.

Fighting Hate

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

Catching Up

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!

He Ain't Heavy

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.

Brilliant Disguise

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?

Whole Lotta Feelin' Goin' On

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.

Listening 101

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.

The List

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.