Where's my baby, part 582

A red letter day today. Take a look.

And we'll see if this will work...

(and take a look at what a great job the town has done patching up our streets. I'm so proud.)

tidbit

We drove past a dead skunk today on the way to school.

LK: OOOooo - that smells like Rolo. (one of our stinky dogs)

me: no, that was an animal who was hit by a car.

LK: Well, then it must have been a stunk.

me: Yep. It was a stunk.


When they've got it right, why worry about one little letter?

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother’s Day

This is what happens when your kids are old. Even when they all still share a roof with you.

One kid is who knows where. Maybe garage, maybe not. He’s 26. We frequently don’t know.
Next kid is in Boulder celebrating friends’ graduations.
Next kid slept over at a friend’s house. Yes, he knew it was Mother’s Day today.
Last and final child is a late sleeper and is snoozing away in my bed while I try to clear some of my emails from last week’s vacation.

Flashback to days of cuteness.

Once upon a time, I woke up to the sound of baby giggles and singing. Nursed a baby while just about sobbing because "OMG I am a mother"! There is no more incredible or awesome feeling than the one you get when you look at that infant of yours.

Once upon a time, I would be jumped on in the morning and covered with slimy kisses because Daddy said “It’s Mother’s Day, let’s wake Mommy up with kisses”.

Once upon a time, I got a breakfast of pancakes (have never eaten pancakes), eggs, toast, cereal, fruit, coffee (have never, ever been a coffee drinker), tea, orange juice and a cookie. In bed. With a flower from the garden. Aphids and all. I did my best to eat part of everything, but I did invite everyone to join me.

Once upon a time, I had a little waiter and waitress, complete with pencil, paper, and pre-made menu, come and get my order for breakfast. I was ordered to stay in bed. Breakfast appeared, just as requested. With a flower from the garden. And aphids again. It was wonderful.

Once upon a time, I had older kids who knew the drill perfectly, created a wonderful breakfast in bed and had it delivered by a very cute toddler who spilled most of it for me. I might have even gotten ice cream with that one. Not sure if that was the year or not! Regardless – it was awesome.

Once upon a time, I had a teenager who learned enough in her high school computer class to put together a page of pictures for each family member, print them all out, bind them together with string and give it to me for Mother’s Day. Some of the pictures got a little stretched to make it look good, but it looks SOOOO good.

Once upon a time, I had another teenager who thought it would be a super good idea to wash my car for Mother’s Day. It was.

Once upon a time, I was told, “Mommy, you have to sit down! You are not supposed to do ANYTHING today!”
I wondered who made that silly rule, and sat down.

Once upon a time my children were small and their world revolved around their dad and me. Now they’re grown, mostly anyway, and their world is much bigger. It’s sad in a way, but it’s also really wonderful.

I have many blessings. They are all healthy. They are, mostly, happy. They not only live nearby, they live under my roof (OK maybe that’s not exactly a blessing, but it’s not bad) and they still manage to call from time to time (though I had to pull out the “LK and I’ve been gone all week and NOT ONE of my children has called me” card out this week.).

I also have this little one who will be getting up any second and expecting me to be in bed so she can ask me what I want for breakfast. Once upon a time continues…

Where'd the GOOD go?

Two days in a row, I took a 2.5 mile walk here at my Dad's community in Phoenix. Two days in a row, I passed several other people doing the same thing. They're always polite and most of them smile as they say "morning". I smile and say "morning" too. Sometimes first, sometimes in response. What's been striking me is that we all leave off the "good" part of that. It's understood, of course, but it's still a little sad. Do we need to be reminded of what portion of the day we're on? Are we so busy that we can't say "Good Morning"? And what's busy got to do with it? We're out taking a walk for chrissakes.

So tomorrow morning, I will take my 2.5 mile walk and I intend to wish every single one of the people I pass a very GOOD morning.

Prom #2 That's all.

A rainbow of pretty girls, one brave guy in a white tux













An SUV limo that was more than 30 minutes late













At the end of the night - tired kids, but a fun time.

Class pictures

Class pictures are always a little cute, a little silly. Most of my kids' class pictures have a goofy smile, strange hair, clothes which indicate their parent clearly forgot it was picture day, or some other faux pas.
I loved LK's picture this year. The story is that all the boys had a plain blue background. When it was her turn, they pulled down this gazebo thing and her face lit up. Yes, they did something a little funky to "fix" her hair, but the smile is real and you can tell she feels pretty. That's worth every dime that package cost.

She's in a preschool class of all boys and her. She loves it. It makes no difference to her. The next younger class has plenty of girls and when she needs girls to play with, they're usually available. Besides - she has between 4 and 8 boys she can marry today if she wants. (She doesn't want.) What great odds! We can also see that she didn't have the patience to leave the pretty dress on for the class picture. T-shirt and jeans. That's my LK.


Ah preschool.

I saw it first!

We had a conversation about a light in our kitchen which was notably starting to give out.

BK: That light..

BSM: Yeah, it's been doing that for a while, I noticed it...

DDD: Oh it's been a week or so, I saw it...
(notice how no one actually ever gets to complete a sentence in my house)

LK: NOOOO!!! I SAW IT FIRST! I CAME IN ONE DAY AND THE LIGHT WAS FERKULING!

BK, BSM and DDD are rendered speechless. (save the not so well suppressed laughter) LK not only gets the first full sentence of the conversation, she got it right! That was EXACTLY what the light was doing.

Prom #1, Part 4 The Couple

Need I say more?

Prom #1, Part 3 The Planning

Back to the prom (but not much longer, I promise)

Good News: Not all Junior Proms require dinner out at a fancy restaurant. Some are hosted at a generous family's home. I very much like the idea.

Also Good News: Not all groups of kids are allowed to rent hotel rooms or beach houses for afterwards. I am one of those parents who do not allow that. So, apparently, are these other parents.

And Still More Good News: Since 16-17 year old kids generally are still in the "provisional" stage of their drivers licensure, they cannot drive each other to the prom. I've come around a little on the whole limo thing (I used to think it was incredibly overboard for a teenager's dance and I'm still not completely over that), but I loved this group's solution... They rented a small bus. 36 kids, one bus. The bus is rented for several hours after the prom is over, so they drive around the city and visit the Golden Gate Bridge, Treasure Island and other beautiful sites. All together. Stretching out the fun, AND STAYING SAFE on the roads!

We got these plans about a week or so ahead of time. (Names and phone #s obviously removed)I'm still a little amazed at the organization. Pretty sure we'll be not-quite-so-organized when it's BK's turn to host.

Overachievers.

Thank heavens.

Overheard

Taking a break from prom stuff. Overheard in the last couple of days...

LK: OOOO - I HATE this house!
BK: Why?
LK: (dejectedly) 'cuz everyone's the boss.


LK responding to knock at the door: "Hey, R! It's you!"

Prom #1, part 2. The Flowers

Young men are supposed to provide their dates with a corsage on occasions like the prom.

Unfortunately, young men aren't known far and wide for their ability to plan ahead.

Fortunately, florists are clued in to young men and can make beautiful corsages in very little time.

Like this one.

Prom #1, part 1. The Asking

Proms nowadays are big deals. There are Prom magazines, websites, and nail and hair salons along with florists everywhere make a bundle on these days. Parents with good intentions decorate the gym to make it look like a sneaker never crossed its path. And there are websites and catalogs to help with that, too. BK and his gf go to two different high schools. They each have a junior prom and senior ball. So there are two big dances to go to each year. Probably would be easier if they went to the same school, but oh well.

Then:

Years ago, boys (and sometimes girls) would grit their teeth and finally get up the strength and courage to go talk to their potential date and ask them if they would go to the dance with them. They would, of course, get an immediate answer, which they hoped would be positive. But then it was done. They were either going to the prom now or they had to somehow figure out how to get the gumption to start all over with another, perhaps more suitable choice of date.


Now:

BK comes home from an all day hockey tournament to see a poster on his bedroom door.

He opens the door and finds

- his bedroom filled with dark blue, light blue and white balloons with occasional Nemo mylar balloons here and there.

This girl is good.

What I didn't know a month ago

I am allergic to New Orleans.

Full on rash, itch, and even sneezes. Got to N.O. Sunday eve, rash by Monday eve, on Benadryl for the rest of the week (not much drinking for me... 's a pity) sneezing Wed & Thursday. Cleared up when I hit the runway at my stopover in Salt Lake City on my way home. STRANGE.

Happy Spring, I guess.

So the question has been asked – where the heck am I? Why no postings?

Well, I am overwhelmed. Have been overwhelmed for several weeks now.

Short story – I took the official title for a job I’d been doing rather haphazardly for a few years anyway. It was on the horizon and we all knew it would be a big project, but not a lot was happening. I was kind of just keeping involved and keeping my finger on the pulse of it for a very long time. We knew it would get hopping at some point, but it was pretty well dormant and I was filling my time with other nice projects with nice start dates and nice end dates. Well, it’s as if someone out in the cosmos noticed that the job title (and yes, pay raise, thank you very much) became official and decided that not just one rather large, but two rather large projects should commence RIGHT NOW. And no baby steps, people – let’s just race right out of that starting gate.

I’m getting >100 emails a day. Work related. I have an average of 5 hours of meetings a day, many of which require travel time. Now, my history is as a worker bee, which is just the way I liked it. Now I am managing these projects. But it takes a while to get out of the worker bee mentality, and I am trying hard to make that transition. And I’m getting there. But right now, I am overwhelmed.

I still have my entire family, the two adult children, teenager, 5yr old, and us all under one bulging roof. M, who has been out of work since the holidays, finally has a job, albeit one that he probably won’t like and will probably not have in two months. But it’s a job and will get him off the couch for several hours a day, we’re hoping. DDD, who has a job and just closed “Play it Again, Sam” last weekend, and who we really rarely see anyway, between work, rehearsals, auditions and boyfriend, is perhaps changing jobs, and then perhaps finding an apartment. Nothing really solid there. BK is going to the first of his two proms on Saturday, after playing a hockey playoff game for which we pulled some strings so it could be played early in the day. We have a full day’s prom schedule on our refrigerator that he has to be mindful of (omg, have things changed since the dark ages of my proms.). He is also playing lacrosse this year on the high school team, after 3 years off. They’ve been having a couple of games a week lately, and yes, I go to every one I can. LK is just a typical 5 year old who wants to dance, do gymnastics, play floor hockey and still have lots of hours to play outside in the neighborhood while going to preschool for an entire day.

So, other things happening… DH has been trying to figure out driving arrangements since the classic ’69 Mustang is just too expensive for the teenager to maintain and we’re worried about reliability, and he (DH) was super envious of those people in the carpool lanes with their snooty little “environment friendly” stickers that lets them drive there – alone - without getting a ticket. So he bought himself some stickers last weekend. They are accompanied by a Honda Civic Hybrid, but that is totally beside the point. He has his stickers and that’s what’s important. So DH will commute daily in his stickers, and BK will drive the car DH has been driving, which puts a teenager behind the wheel of a BMW, which totally drives me crazy. I’ve always hated the “rich kid cars” the kids around here drive, and thought that DDD might want to buy her own car, leaving BK to drive the CRV she’s been driving. Much more appropriate, I thought. But safety is important, DH wants to keep the miles on the beemer down, and DDD’s not giving up the CRV anytime soon. So BK’s driving a rich kid car. Ugh.

Calgon take me away!
(Did you know this stuff still existed? It does!)

I did manage to take an hour to register LK for Kindergarten recently. It was a little strange walking into that office again. It’s been a few years!!! Here we go again!

LK and I will be taking a much needed week in Phoenix in May to spend some time with my dad, make sure he eats and takes his meds, etc. while his wife takes a much needed week in Tahoe with her girlfriends. I intend to go to the pool, zoo, read a book and have a very relaxing time there. I also intend to catch up with my internet friends! Yeah, my dad’s not the most lively conversationalist around and I may have to yell to be heard, but that’s a small price to pay.

I feel like I just wrote my Christmas letter, except with a whole lot more detail. and yes, I write Christmas letters, and I really and truly LIKE reading other peoples' letters. It's just so hard to stay in touch these days, I really look forward to those. But back on the subject, I will try to get some small things posted a little more frequently. Like maybe a prom picture.

And that's where I've been. sigh.

Eighteen and counting

All right, I'll bite. I rarely ever do these, and I'm just too tired to write anything else after spending the week allergic to New Orleans, so here you go.
The year I turned 18. Songs I liked are bolded. Was "engh" about in italics and didn't like struck-out. The rest I either don't recognize or I'd need to hear it to figure out what it was. Some I liked the artist, so I probably liked the song, but can't for the life of me figure out what it was. And yes, some of these answers embarass me. A little. But hey - I really did like most of what was out there at the time.
Songs come from pop culture madness. Meme comes from Sarah. Comments are in parentheses.


1.Rock and Roll part II - Gary Glitter
2.American Pie - Don McLean (did pom pom routine to this)
3.Lean On Me - Bill Withers (sang this in church)
4.Rock and Roll - Led Zeppelin
5.I'll Take You There - Staple Singers
6.Precious and Few - Climax (omg. embarassing, but it was "OUR" song)
7.Let's Stay Together - Al Green
8.Coconut - Nilsson
9.Schools Out - Alice Cooper
10.Me and Mrs. Jones - Billy Paul
11.Layla - Derek and the Dominoes (like this more and more all the time - 'specially when Clapton slowed it down.)
12.Goodbye To Love - Carpenters (yep - I liked the Carpenters. I could sing great harmony with them.)
13.Burning Love - Elvis Presley
14.The Candy Man - Sammy Davis, Jr. (Can't even believe this was my year. Mortifying.)
15.Operator - Jim Croce (loved Jim Croce.... LLLLLOVVVED Jim Croce.)
16.Horse With No Name - America (monotonous, but totally singable)
17.Nights In White Satin - Moody Blues (the ultimate date song)
18.Anticipation - Carly Simon (another fave - I like the alto voices, apparently)
19.Saturday In The Park - Chicago (played this at a wedding. REALLY!)
20.Get On The Good Foot - James Brown
21.Summer Breeze - Seals and Crofts (I still have their album. I like it a little less now, though)
22.Rockin' Robin - Michael Jackson
23.Listen To The Music - Doobie Brothers (This is my head bopping song. I can sing ANY of the harmonies - love them all. Try this one slightly sloshed with the speakers set up *just right*)
24.Take It Easy - Eagles (Still love this one)
25.Brandy - Looking Glass (cringe)
26.Diamonds Are Forever - Shirley Bassey
27.My Ding-A-Ling - Chuck Berry (hated this even then)
28. I'll Be Around - Spinners
29. The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face - Roberta Flack (cringe again)
30.Morning Has Broken - Cat Stevens (another church song)
31.Everybody Plays The Fool - The Main Ingredient
32.Popcorn - Hot Butter (I think I liked this, sort of, if it's the one I think it is...)
33.Alone Again (Naturally) - Gilbert O'Sullivan (I can sing most of the words of this song, but the guy's voice always bugged the hell out of me.
34. Iron Man - Black Sabbath
35.Jackie Wilson Said - Van Morrison
36.Tupelo Honey - Van Morrison (DH used to sing this one. Did a good job with it, too!)
37.If You Don't Know Me By Now - Harold Melvin and the Bluenotes
38.You Wear It Well - Rod Stewart (not a huge Rod Stewart fan, but this is one of the few.)
39.I Am Woman - Helen Reddy (hear me roar)
40.I Can See Clearly Now - Johnny Nash (Johnny Nash??? Am I thinking of the same song?)
41.Papa Was A Rolling Stone - Temptations (Temptations don't get much better than this one.)
42.Changes - David Bowie (I think I know one or two words of this one, but I still sing along.)
43.From The Beginning - Emerson, Lake and Palmer (Hated their album, love this song.)
44.Immigration Man - Graham Nash & David Crosby (Anything CSN&Y was good to me.)
45.Tiny Dancer - Elton John (ditton EJ)
46.Melissa - Allman Brothers Band
47.Honky Cat - Elton John (well, I liked this one a little less)
48.Black Dog - Led Zeppelin
49.Heart Of Gold - Neil Young (Oh WHY did CSN&Y split?)
50.Taxi - Harry Chapin (another of DH's songs. Also very well done)
51.Feeling Alright - Joe Cocker
52.Down On Me - Janis Joplin (I was kinda a closet JJ fan)
53.You Don't Mess Around With Jim - Jim Croce (I even like this one.)
54.City Of New Orleans - Arlo Guthrie (Yep - and I liked Alice's Restaurant too, thanks to my buddy, John.)
55.Long Cool Woman (In A Black Dress) - Hollies (if only...)
56.Roundabout - Yes
57.Bang A Gong (Get It On) - T. Rex
58.Hold Your Head Up - Argent
59.America - Yes
60Black and White - Three Dog Night
61.Rock Me On The Water - Jackson Browne (Didn't become a JB fan until college)
62.Looking For A Love - J. Geils Band
63.Starman - David Bowie
64.The Jean Genie - David Bowie (the what?)
65.It Never Rains In Southern California - Albert Hammond (remember the embarassing comment? yep. this is one.)
66.Easy Livin - Uriah Heap
67.Rocket Man - Elton John
68.Little Bitty Pretty One - Jackson Five
69.I Just Want To Make Love To You - Foghat
70.Hot 'N' Nasty - Humble Pie
71.All The Young Dudes - Mott The Hoople
72.I Saw The Light - Todd Rundgren
73.Handbags and Gladrags - Rod Stewart
74.Witchy Woman - Eagles (Was just discovering the Eagles back then. But I still love them)
75.Freddie's Dead (Theme from Superfly) - Curtis Mayfield
76.Rock and Roll Stew - Traffic
77.Delta Dawn - Tanya Tucker (you'd think I'd like this one. But engh.)
78.America - Simon and Garfunkle (BIG, BIG S&G fans. Mostly because of the harmonies)
79.I Don't Need No Doctor - New Riders Of The Purple Sage
80.Ben - Michael Jackson

No Sudoku for YOU!

My organization, in their infinite wisdom, has implemented a filter which prevents me from playing my not-so-daily game of sudoku at lunch.

I'm SOOOOO mad!

Thank heavens my son bought me a sudoku calendar for christmas. I have options. Take that, internet nazis!

horrifying

I read this headline and my heart sank.

Dad Admits Poisoning Kids' Soup

It's 1981 all over again. I was working in the Pediatric ICU in a major city in our fair country, and got assigned to take care of Q.

Q. was an 4 month old who was on a ventilator, and was now living in our long-term ventilator area with other kids who for one reason or another now could not breathe on their own. Q. had been fed Similac laced with Drano. His parents had been hoping for a big settlement with the formula giant. For a long time, they remained free to move about the country, as I guess it was difficult to prove which parent actually laced the formula. Their son, however, was tethered to a 4-5 foot piece of plastic tubing keeping him alive. His lungs were pretty trashed, even his heart was involved and he was on the list for a heart/lung transplant. He never had any visitors.

As I was a fairly recent mother of my own little boy, I used to bring in clothes and toys all the time. I'd take his laundry home once in a while, even though I only worked weekends at the time. As does happen from time to time when you're a nurse, Q. became one of my babes. Even if I had another assignment, I'd pop my head in for a little Hi, or a touch or something. He was pretty irritable for a very long time, as you might expect if your esophagus had been severely burned and your airway wasn't in great shape, either.

I'd bathe him, and rock him as much as he'd tolerate. I'd try to get him to look at toys, or listen to sounds. I'd hold his hand if he was just too sensitive to snuggle. He couldn't drink anything, but after a while, he could suck a pacifier to beat the band. We didn't think he'd make it a month, but he did. Then he made it two months, and three. Finally he had a birthday! We had a little party. He was responsive, and we were his family. He played, we played and that was life for a little one year old who was poisoned by the only two people he should have counted on.

One day, I hadn't been in for a while, and I went to say hi. His space was empty. No crib, no eggcrate mattress on the floor, no toys, no nothing. About a week prior, he'd gotten sick - a typical illness, but he was not a typical kid, and it killed him. I felt like I'd gotten slugged in the stomach. I don't know why, with these long-term kids, you start getting the idea they will always be there. Logically I knew better, but it was just so normal to see him, that the thought of that ending wasn't entertained. I know Q. didn't have the life he should have had. I know it wasn't a great life, but he was loved by us - and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only nurse who remembers.

So how does a parent get to the point where they'd poison their kids? In what kind of mind is it OK to hurt a child - YOUR child - in return for the possibility that you could get away with extortion? Is there an amount that makes it worth it? Or is it just the possibility? I'm not sure. But it happens. I've seen it too many times. Once is too many, and my little Q. was just my first.

I don't like to be reminded of that. And yet, I'm glad little Q. does get remembered now and then.

A month in the year

So, apparently people want these things updated from time to time.

Wellll, OK.

I guess.

But no promises!

But's it's been busy. I have excuses. I have LOTS of excuses. But I'll spare you the pain.

Birthday season is nearly over. Yes, you read that right. Holiday season is but a blip in the screen of birthday season. We have a couple of grandparents, a couple of nieces and in-laws left and one 5 year old birthday left to celebrate. but the only one I have left to orchestrate is LK. Since my last post, DDD turned 23, BK turned 17, Big Sis celebrated a milestone (more on that later!) and I joined my husband again in age. We enjoy two months where he is a full year older than me. OK, well, maybe it's just me who enjoys it. Anyway - we managed to have three children in those two calendar months, so I am a year younger than him on all three birth certificates. Don't know why that amuses me, but it does.

DDD enjoyed a quiet birthday and requested ribs for dinner. Done. Bake and frost an angel food cake, buy ice cream and some cute napkins and we're done. We had to wait a little for some friends of her who were supposed to join us for dinner to come, but it all was fine.

BK (the day after DDD) wanted Zachary's pizza. Woo Hoo. Easy Schmeazy. Done. He wanted this cake his grandmother makes with cherry pie filling and pineapple in it. Unfortunately for me, his grandmother has no recollection of creating a cake with cherry pie filling and pineapple. Hooray for the internet! I google cherry pie filling, pineapple and yellow cake mix and come up with a concoction I was pretty sure he wasn't talking about, but I made it anyway. It was a really odd cake, but it was YUMMY! Surprisingly yummy! So hooray.

The fun of the whole month was big sis' milestone birthday! Not saying which one. The sisters, daughter, nieces, and sisters-in-law had a wonderful weekend on the beach in Aptos. Beautiful surroundings, good food, lots of good food and wine and fun. I mad my very first appletinis. And my very first chocolate-tini's too. They were yummy. It was just a very special time with some very special people. (See pictures above) Y'all should try it.

My birthday was quiet. I have the fortune of having a birthday that always fell in the middle of finals week when I was in school. No change this year. BK had finals, DDD had a rehearsal and M had school that day, so BK, LK joined us for dinner at our favorite little Mexican restaurant and then we had a quiet night waiting for DDD and M to come home to do gifts. LK was losing it a little - she was super tired, but she got to stay up anyway. DH bought me a bike, which is what I was hinting pretty pointedly for. He didn't keep it much of a secret, although he wanted to... He left a big old catalog of bikes out once, right where I'd see it. He was mad at himself for that, but I told him that if that was for my birthday, I was SUPER EXCITED!!! Then I tried being helpful and unloaded groceries from his car, which included a helmet. He wasn't happy about that either. But in the long run, none of that mattered and I LOVE my bike! And let me tell you - helmets these days are a whole lot more comfortable than they used to be!

We also said goodbye to DH's mom and dad, who had been visiting for a couple of months. Along with that, we got to see DH's home-schooling, bible-thumping little sis and family, as her husband's mother passed away the week before Grandma and Grandpa were set to leave. They didn't thump any bibles and our visit was very pleasant. We also celebrated Gma & Gpa's birthdays while they were here. (yes, more family birthdays.)

Somewhere in the midst of the family stuff, I finally stepped into my new position. They finally created an "EHR Coordinator" position, so the job that I'd been doing for a year or so is finally a real job. And there is a raise involved, which is very nice. Some day, I will need an office and perhaps even a door, but for now, I'm staying put. But holy smokes - the wheels have come off the wagon in how busy I've been. It's good, as I can't stand not being busy, but being double booked for meetings regularly is not something I'm familiar with. But the fact that we are moving along finally is quite nice.

Speaking of niece (we were, weren't we?), a happy birthday wish to her as well. Now I will ignore the rest of the extended family birthdays and concentrate on an almost 5 year old who is going to have a gymnastics party and is totally up for this whole birthday thing! Coincidentally, her party will be on our adoption day, so we'll have something else to celebrate as well.

But no eating caterpillars.

Thought for the week

LK: If somebody eats a caterpillar, they will dream about the caterpillar when they sleep.



I think she's right. I'm pretty sure if I ate a caterpillar, my sleep would definitely be negatively impacted...!

Happy New Year!

Here's to some fun and sun in 2007!

Christmas stories

Christmas just isn’t quite Christmas when you’re not at home.

But it’s pretty good. Family is great. My dad looked pretty good. He does sleep a lot, and he can’t hear much even with his hearing aids in, but he could have been a lot worse. Mr. Social, he's not. But never has been. Pretty much everyone else was sick, but we managed to avoid catching it. Babies were adorable and fun. Nothing like watching babies run around the house. SOOO cute! And the 4 year olds had their testy moments, but were mostly really very good with each other and us! Thanks to big sis, there was lots of cookie baking.

We did take the pop-up down there and parked at a pretty darn nice RV lot. Close to the bathrooms (very important when all you’ve got is a pop-up!) and clean showers. The heater worked very nicely the entire time. No complaints. I thought it would be kind of awful, but it wasn’t bad at all. I don’t suppose I’d have wanted to be in that close quarters the whole time, but for sleeping – it was just fine.

Cute moments:

A. telling his aunt he didn’t have any shoes. Or a sweatshirt, either. This was the day after he’d told his older cousin that he’d been forced to sell all his videos. Except one. Roly Poly Ollie. Poor child. Poor neglected child. We found out later that not only did the family still own all their videos, they had never owned a Roly Poly Ollie one! I think there is a future in storytelling, if the government gig doesn’t pan out. Come to think of it – it may play very nicely into that government job!

Sparked no doubt by the talents of that same cousin, author and performer of the catchy and inimitable “Snow is Slippery”, and inspired by an actual acknowledgement of the Christmas story, we spent a trip back to the trailer entertained by Little K and her new composition called “Mary and Jofus”. It went something like this:

“Mary and Jofus, Mary and Jofus, Mary and Jofus and Jesus too.
Mary and Jofus, Mary and Jofus, Mary and Jofus and Jesus too.
And the baby is asleep. Mary and Jofus, Mary and Jofus. And Jesus too.”

I’m suspicious that A. planted the seed. But I did love the “Jofus” part. I’m told when I was a little one, I used to call Mary’s companion “Jane Sofas”, which is probably 3 year old for “Saint Joseph”.

Speaking of words and the passage of time – we were speaking of that weren’t we? Every day words come out more and more clearly. I’m missing the little toddler mispronounciations all the time. During this trip, we went from “lipsops” to a very deliberate “lipstick”. And it was only a mere few weeks ago that we got “Honey Bunches of OATS” instead of “Honeyvunches a boats”. (But that was totally understandable – it started out a very confusing “sim-mon-a-boats” I think she thought it had cinnamon somewhere in its title.) So I’ll enjoy the “Jofus” moments when they come. There - see – there was a point there after all!

Little Ben decided that I was a wonderful snuggler and climbed up into my lap time after time to get some snuggles. Does that kid know how to wrap an aunt around her little finger or what???!! And I got lots of blown kisses from great nephew L. Can’t get much cuter than a couple of 1 year olds playing the adults like violins.

So, we got back safe and sound despite very heavy winds and rains on the last 90 minutes of our trip (and it was still my turn to drive), which also coincidentally was around midnight after I’d gotten up at 5:30am to take DDD back to the airport. Needless to say, I was super tired, but that weather scared me enough that falling asleep just wasn’t much of a concern. We blew around the Altamont pass a little, passed through some very heavy rains and hydroplaned our share of the road. But the trailer stayed hitched and behaved itself quite nicely despite the challenges thrown at it.

Hope your holidays were wonderful as well.

Happy Birthday, Nan

Today marks the 109th anniversary of my grandmother's birth. She didn't live all those years, in fact I think she didn't get much past her 80th birthday. (I'm really bad at remembering dates - I'm very happy my sister got married in 2000. I can usually remember that. The other one got married in, gee, let's see - I think E. was 16 or maybe 17, so that makes it 1982? or 3? See, that's how my brain works, so I'm usually close, but can never be relied on to be accurate.)

I suppose most families are dysfunctional in one way or another, and mine is no exception.

Let's see how much I can come up with about my Grandmother.

1. She LOVED to hug me.
2. She used Dove cold cream every night.
3. Her skin was creepily soft.
4. And very wrinkly.
5. I don't think the Dove did what she wanted it to do.
6. She lived in a house in Skokie.
7. Skokie is a heavily Jewish population. (or at least, it did.)
8. My grandmother was Catholic.
9. And pretty darn anti-semitic.
10. I loved that her house had an ALLEY behind it!
11. And there were garbage cans in her alley!
12. And that the street sign was a wooden 4x4 sticking up out of the ground with the street name carved in it.
13. And that I knew just how many street signs I was allowed to walk to.
14. But I walked farther than that. A lot.
15. She let me watch the Mickey Mouse Club EVERY time it was on.
16. She used to jiggle her fat.
17. She used to say "Nanny, Nanny with the big fat fanny".
18. I suppose it made me laugh, but it seems a bit odd now.
19. I was a rascal and she still had a sweet spot for me.
20. She was pretty racist.
21. She once turned down popcorn at a movie because a black man was serving it.
22. She married her brother-in- law after they were both widowed.
23. She remained married to him until he died, although they barely lived in the same house let alone occupy the same rooms.
24. She was a pretty attractive young woman in her 20s.
25. Her son (my uncle) lived with her until the ripe old age of 42 when he died from a heart attack.
26. She used to travel to Europe to visit us when we were there.
27. I liked her visits.
28. My parents didn't as much.
29. My mother called her "mother".
30. I thought that was weird.
31. She used that temporary hair rinse they used to sell in drugstores to "cover" her gray.
32. She frequently had pink hair.
33. I thought that was weird.
34. She never quite got over my mother having a 3rd child at 42.
35. She was nice to my little sis, but never had the connection with her that she had with big sis and me.
36. The woman could hold a grudge.
37. She sent me (only me) money the year my uncle died and I was so appalled that I used that money to pay for my sister's and my airline tickets to go back to the funeral.
38. She bought me my first sewing machine.
39. I made my wedding gown with that sewing machine.
40. She was alive for both my older sis' and my weddings.
41. She saw her great granddaughter, but none of her great grandsons.
42. I loved the "sleeping" porch at her Skokie house.
43. That house is SOOOO much smaller than I remember it.
44. She used to take me to the bakery after church every Sunday for a donut or pastry.
45. No wonder she was overweight.
46. She finally moved out to CA to be near her daughter in the 1970s.
47. I used to visit her at the assisted living place.
48. Her eyesight was horrible.
49. And she had cataracts.
50. And glaucoma.
51. Her eyedrops were always in the door of the refrigerator.
52. Her apartment never smelled very good.
53. She loved Jimmy Dean Sausage.
54. Mom and I would eat lunch with her at Marie Callendars.
55. She would always order the clubhouse sandwich.
56. Or was that my mom?
57. She loved my husband.
58. My mother didn't.
59. Reactions related? maybe.
60. She liked polyester pant suits.
61. oh my god.
62. She was apparently married to a potential FBI agent.
63. My l'il sis knew that. I didn't.
64. She gets lots of little details out of people. (my sis, not my grandmother)
65. I would never have a drink of anything at my grandmother's place (later life)
66. Because she couldn't see very well, and never cleaned anything very well.
67. It grossed me out.
68. She liked to be called "Nan" by her grandkids.
69. She had a grandchild she never wanted to know.
70. It was my uncle's daughter.
71. Who had no relationship with her father.
72. My older sis and I met our cousin once. I don't think she (the cousin) was thrilled about it.
73. Neither was my grandmother. (or was she already dead? oooo, there's that time continuum problem again.)
74. I know she did not want us to meet our cousin.
75. She prayed the rosary every night.
76. She taught me how to pray the rosary.
77. In a very kid friendly way. I didn't have to say the mysteries and stuff.
78. I teased her about her laps around the beads.
79. She had enough of a sense of humor to laugh about that.
80. I miss her.

Squish, squash, that's my tit you're trying to smash!

Had one of my yearly (cough, cough) mammograms last June. The radiologist found something of concern and had them ask me to come back for "additional views".

I said no.

They asked again.

I said no, and talked to someone who could stop the nagging. (They did.)

My doctor tried to appeal to my sense of reason, saying it was only a mammogram.

I said no.

Mammograms are among the absolute MOST painful procedure I have to endure. I realize it is not so for all women, but most women have a fair amount of fatty tissue in their breasts. I have pretty much all ductwork in there. They've been called "dense". They've been called "difficult to place" and "difficult to read". They are very careful not to say they're so damn "SMALL". It's painfully obvious that I present a bit of a challenge to the poor radiology techs.

To top it off, I have some cysts in there. Been there for years. I've had two (yes, TWO) stereotactic biopsies on them. After the first one, I vowed I would never do that again without some kind of medication. Now, people - I have had two children without any kind of anesthesia - I can typically handle pain ok! After the second one where I WAS medicated and all that did was make me cry the entire time, I vowed that they would have to take my breast off me if they wanted to biopsy something in it again. It makes sense to me that if I had cysts in my breasts at one time, why would I stop making that tissue? It makes sense to me that they would eventually see more. What makes them believe this is anything different?

Anyway, last month, I had about a week of strange pain in one breast (the concerning one), in roughly the location they were concerned about. While breast pain generally doesn't mean anything other than a shift in hormones, I decided my body was trying to tell me something and I set up the appointment for the additional views.

OH MY GOD!

And YOUR GOD, too!

We squeezed my little tit every possible way it could go. And then the radiologist still couldn't see the exact location, so we squeezed it again. And again. And again. And again. Move this way. Turn your head that way and kind of lean back. (While I keep your tit prisoner in this vise, btw) Relax your shoulder. OK, try your head this way. Now try stepping forward and THEN leaning back. I think I went out to the waiting room and back into the procedure room at least 5 times, garnering some mighty sympathetic looks from the gals around me. Still no one acknowledged just how small my breasts are. (but I did hear about all the ductwork in there again... I confess I think about heating ducts when they say stuff like that, but these little dudes do nothing to keep me warm...)

Bottom line - the radiologist is going to classify this as "suspicious" and something that should be biopsied, but acknowledges that it is in such a difficult place to pinpoint, that a normal needle biopsy probably wouldn't work. Guess what I told him? Yep - just take the whole damn breast and check it out. I don't need it anymore. In fact, take them both and give me some nice B cups instead, OK? He laughed a little and told me that since it had already been nearly 6 months since my last tittie twister, and he didn't see any change, he would be ok if I wanted to wait another 6 months again. But that it had to be at 6 months, not a year. (Oh, and if I'd have come back in a few days AS THEY WANTED ME TO DO, there would be no way he'd be ok with waiting. He would insist on the biopsy. Sometimes patients DO know best!)

So back to today. Yeah. Fine, I said. But I really mean it - they can have these things. Betcha if they put implants in, they would stop trying to squish the living bejeezus out of them. I want to see some male type radiologist have his little private parts squashed in one of those machines. A new way to do this would be on the horizon in no time!

So, I'm back on the 6 month plan. Yippee. Can't wait till May.

Beast and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

There are some days when things just don’t go your way. Ask Alexander, in the book by Judith Viorst. He knows.

I had one of those days last week. I didn’t wake up with gum in my hair, but I did wake up with child parts draped all over me and the backache that goes with remaining stationary for too long.

We had the normal battles getting clothes on, brushing hair and teeth and recognizing the importance of wearing a coat when the weather turns cool. Then we headed off to school. Nothing too exciting there, except that we needed to share our moldy pumpkin with our classmates, so mush-head needed to travel with us. And my tea spilled on my lap. And my water I moved so my tea could take it’s place didn’t have the top screwed on quite tight enough.

So I drove to work, and found my normal parking lot with it’s “full” sign out front. “BALONEY”, I said and proceeded to drive around the very full parking garage in search of a spot. There WAS a spot, for a car without doors, maybe. But not for me. So I went to my second choice garage and scouted around 5 more floors of spots. No luck. Try the valet, even though I hate leaving my keys, they’re full too. Go to #3 parking lot, out in the rain and about a MILE away. (OK, not that far, but still it’s a trek.) Find a spot and feel grumpy about wasting about 45 minutes trying to park.

This is where it gets fun! While crossing the street in the crosswalk provided, I’m about 1/3 across when a big old white van guns its engine and drives straight for me! It was like I was in one of those movies where the bad guy is trying to take out the witness who will put him away for life. But of course, it wasn’t and I’m not. The crosswalker (me) SCREAMS and jumps – two steps, maybe three, but I’m sure no more than that. See, those guys in the movies know what’s coming so they’re not glued to their shoes. They actually have the presence of mind to throw their bodies out of the way. I’m here to tell you (Thank you, Lord) that two steps, maybe three is really the max. So driver screeches to a stop and crosswalker who has just seen that she was going to be thrown, but wondered seemingly casually in which direction, looks down to see a silver bumper touching her thigh. No bump, no real hit. Just a damn close call. That might be enough, but instead, crazy driver (I do not use that term loosely here) rolls down his window and screams “I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! OK??? I’M SORRY! OK?? I’M SORRY, OK?”. I have still not quite discovered how to breathe yet and can only raise my hands and shake my head as I push away from the van and finish my walk to the curb. I get there successfully and start the rest of my walk to the office, nodding at the nice people who all stopped in their tracks and are now asking me if I’m ok. But since I’ve only started breathing again, I can’t talk and simply nod in their direction. But crazy driver is not content. Crazy driver decides to park his weapon of destruction at the curb and run over to me, waving arms wildly and yelling “I’M SORRY! WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO? I’M SORRY!” Several times. Enough that more people stopped. All I wanted was for him to stop yelling at me after he nearly killed me. That’s all I wanted. But could I tell him that? No. I’m still concentrating on getting my eyes back to their regular size and my breathing to stop hurting. That and I was THIS close to tears. I did not need crazy driver yelling at me. I finally managed a weak “I’m fine. Leave me alone.” and continued my slow shaky walk.

Work is actually OK. I keep shaking and can’t seem to contain the nausea, but it’s not so terrible that I can’t get things done. I find I’m distracted and make stupid mistakes, but nothing harmful, so I’m feeling lucky.

It occurs to me that I carry a guardian angel given to me by my sister several years ago. It’s about the size of a quarter, and I keep it in my coin purse so I’ve tried to spend it a few times, but thankfully that’s never quite worked. So I’m semi convinced that the guardian angel works now. Or maybe I’m just a little crazy myself. I do know that in the past few days, I find myself jumping when cars move and I am near them. I feel a little like those meerkats whose quick and jerky head movements are always so entertaining as it looks like they are so very alert. Well, maybe they’re just jumpy. I know the feeling.

Back to my day… this happens to be the evening of callbacks, which I am decidedly NOT looking forward to. But we get there on time and learn a dance. I’m not a great dancer after 30+ years away from it, but I learn it and I know I’m not the worst. I do not, however, get picked to be in the group to learn the “more advanced” dance. Fine with me. So far, I am NOT impressed with the way this call back is being run. We turn into our favorite jungle animals and we sing as a group – a HUGE group. Not smaller little groups where they can actually hear our voices. “Thank you very much, you can leave now. We will let you know early next week. Let’s say a prayer of thanks.” Huh? You can cast from THAT? OK then!

I wait around, because DDD is participating in a call back for that smaller part. She’s clearly the strongest singer of the group, but several of them were very good dancers. (She’s no schlump in that department, but she wasn’t clearly the best dancer, just ONE OF the best dancers.) The director moves them around, changes parts, looks at them this way and that and thanks them, letting them go. That was as close to feeling like he was really paying attention as I got the whole time. I’m still not impressed, and frankly hoping that I do not get cast. For DDD’s sake, I hope she does get cast, because she’s feeling antsy and wants to do something!

Only one car decides it wants to occupy the space I am in on the way home, so I count myself lucky. We get home, having digested that whole “callback” and go to bed. Fortunately for me, the next days are MUCH better.

Oh… and neither one of us got cast. I hope I didn’t ruin it for her, but I’m breathing a sigh of relief.

Girl, you in TRUBL!

So… My liberal pinko commie-ness has apparently reared its ugly head again.

As some of you know, I married into a very conservative family, in general. In fact, there are a few who have, in recent years, become more or less fundamentalist types. They are born again, I guess. I’ve always felt being born once was sufficient.

So, my ultra Christian SIL sent out a website notice to her brothers and sisters etc. from the American Family Association. This notice informs their constituents that Wal-Mart has donated $60K to “Out and Equal, a homosexual organization pushing the same-sex agenda, including same-sex marriage, in the workplace.” …gasp…

It further encourages all of us discriminating people to boycott Wal-Mart on Friday and Saturday following Thanksgiving in protest of their poor taste in charity recipients.

First of all, I HATE to shop after Thanksgiving. I hate to shop ALL the time, and this particular weekend is the worst.

Now I will drag my sorry ass out of my nice cozy home to shop at Wal-Mart, where I almost never shop (I don’t like their controlling and restrictive policies as a whole) because, damn it, I have to support this organization for actually having enough balls to buck the “family values” crowd.

So back to my black-sheepiness, I wrote back to thank her for alerting me to this and that I would most definitely get out there to support Wal-Mart, if just this once. I knew that was not the intended response, but sometimes I just get testy. (This response did not go to everyone on the list, because I’m just not THAT self-destructive!!)

This, then, engendered an apologetic response from SIL (to EVERYONE), who did not mean to offend anyone or hurt anyone’s feelings.

Shit.

So being the blacksheep that I apparently strive to be, I sent back my response again to EVERYONE this time, assuring there was no offense taken, no feelings hurt and acknowledging our differences of viewpoints. I even went so far as to invoke God’s name in the beauty of people having differing ideas and ideals and still being able to get along.

Since then – no response. I think I’ve been blacklisted. I’m also pretty sure I won’t be on that particular mailing list anymore!!

At the very least, I figure I’ve got a few people praying for my degenerate soul. That can’t be all bad, can it?

Perspective

I've followed AT and his family on their journey since l'il sis first linked to it. I asked for prayers from the larger community via Mom's Daily Dose (thanks, Amy). The ending we all asked and prayed for was not what happened.

AT, thank you for sharing this intensely personal time with us.
Thank you for sharing this incredible love you have for this woman and your family.
Thank you for all of it.

I don't think I'm alone in saying this journey has touched my life and my perspective on many things is a little different today than it was yesterday.

Testy, testy, testy

Had a conversation with a co-worker who has two young'uns yesterday. Her husband was commenting on the 'P' that Grover or someone was showing on Sesame Street. Their 3 1/2 year old insisted it was an 'H'. Dad said, "no, it's a 'P'". Youngun says "No, it's an 'H'". Dad says, "No, that's a 'P'". Youngun says "It's an 'H'. NO FAIR!" Mom looks at Dad and wonders why in the world you would argue with a 3 year old...
This rang a bell and maybe even touched a nerve. This has been my life for about 6 months now.

LK: Is today a school day?

Beast*: Yes. It's Wednesday.

LK: Today is Saturday.

Beast: No, today is Wednesday. It's pizza day at school.

LK: But Miss Betsy said it was Saturday.

Beast: Actually, Saturday is a few days away. Today is Wednesday.

LK: NO! It's Saturday. YOU'RE NOT THE BOSS!

Beast: Well, I'm not going to argue with you about this.

LK: Well, you're not the boss of me.

Beast: Well, actually, I am.

LK: NO, YOU'RE NOT! You're not the boss of everything.

etc. only I typically strive to end these conversations before the ongoing Who's the Boss episodes run through my brain. I hate that.

So we're running into this 4 year old AT. TI. TUDE. And it drives me nuts. This, coupled with the great fun of running away whenever I call her, and the lack of cooperation with little everyday things is making this a challenging time in the life of this family. The hardest part, I think, is keeping the other old people in my house OUT of the conversation! My 25 (almost 26) yr old just LOVES to get into it with her, and will go round after round about which day it is, or which vegetable is on her plate, and then of course, who's the boss. And that drives me even more nuts!

So apparently I'm a little testy these days.

I read a couple of blog entries by l'il sis, and empathized with her reaction. I understood it and thought I'd feel the same way. Did not feel it was "over the top" as she did. So I left a short comment, in effect, saying I didn't feel she needed to clarify or backpedal or any such thing on this subject because one of the persons involved found out about the entry. In much less words and not at all as direct as this. But she pointed out that an excuse was given and that was all that was needed.

So testy little me thinks - un, unh (how the heck do you spell that?). I don't think so. You just don't ignore when it suits but jump on it when criticized. The only thing that stopped me was that subject of controversy said "apologetically yours" on her comment. OK. That was nice and probably enough to smooth raised hackles. But I stand by my initial reaction and comments.

Last night, DDD had her callback. She felt it was a good one. They asked her to wait around to read a little later with a couple other characters, so she waited an hour and 1/2. When they all went back in, the director pulled the stage manager to the side and said something really quickly, and next thing DDD knows, she's being led out of the room and told she can leave. But she can come back tomorrow (tonight) for another part. WHICH SHE IS GOING TO DO!!!

My little testy hackles are all up in arms again. You don't have a person sit around for an hour and 1/2 waiting and then unceremoniously single out and dismiss them in front of all the other actors! In my little (inexperienced) world, that is unacceptable. Even if it was someone's mistake - you put them through the paces anyway, and discuss the mistake with the person responsible later. I do not want to work with that director at all. I do not want to give that director the time of day. I, I, I. I apparently have a much shorter fuse than others, or maybe I'm just more sensitive. Don't know. I just know that these people I'm related to must be nicer people than I. It also points directly at why I am not cut out for more than recreational dabbles into this theatre stuff. I've always known I can't take the rejection. But now I know, it's not really the rejection I can't take. I actually find that fairly easy to deal with. It's the potential rudeness. Every time you audition, you put yourself up for someone else's examination and the potential for rudeness. I don't tolerate that well.

So this will be interesting - we're both going to the callbacks tonight. But my heart is REALLY not in it.

* BEAST came about when a commenter on l'il sis' entried happened to agree with me, and wrote: "Beast. Amen." Making both sis and I laugh out loud. I like it and I'm keeping it!
For those uninitiated to my strange family- I am "Be-a-starz-mom". "Be a star" has been a catch phrase around here since DDD was little. I even used it as a password for a while. So when I started this blog, DDD was going through college as a theatre major and that was a huge focus in all our lives. We'd arrange our trips back there to see her shows. So I became beastarzmom. And that's that. But I like Beast almost as much, (and it certainly seems to fit me, at least these days...) so that's who I'm gonna be! Thanks to MamaLee!

Are they NUTS?

So I went to an audition.

A real one.

Because DDD was going and I think it would be fun to be in something with her, even though she's got talent, experience, training, a BFA in theatre performance, the look, etc.

I've got... red hair.

So, neither one of us left feeling we'd done a particularly good job with the audition. Speaking from a point of extreme inexperience, I felt like I completely screwed it up, which didn't surprise me at all. She felt like she'd certainly done better, and they asked her to read for a part she'd already played and didn't want to repeat, so she wasn't terribly pleased. We both wrote it off.

Imagine our surprise when BOTH of us got a callback! Now getting a callback does not mean you are likely to be cast. Just that you got past the first round of cuts. Speaking from inexperience again, and from being the last kid ever picked for a sports team, I am still in shock. It's a small part (inexperience again, thank you! - I'm relieved!!!), but DDD's up for a lead so I'll stick with the process and we'll see what happens.

One day I'll write about my first ever experience with a huge, middle of a scene brain fart, but not right now. I need to keep whatever brain cells I have left around for this next round of whatever comes up. They're in for a world of surprise if they want me to dance!

So that's the excitement for now!

My celebrity call list

It's voting day.

So last evening, I'm waiting for a call from DH who is in India for a few weeks. Instead, I get calls from Ahnold, Clint Eastwood, Dianne Feinstein, some registered nurse named Diana something, and Bill Clinton.

Why don't we ever hear from these people except the evening before election day?

Actually, that's not fair, I've gotten several calls from the guv-ah-nator. Can't tell you what we've chatten about because it's a pretty one-way conversation. Not much of a listener, that guy... And last night was my second call from my buddy, Bill.

It used to be telemarketers. Now it's politicians. I hate it, but frankly, I feel less guilty hanging up on Clint and Arnold than I do the poor schmuck with the crappy telemarketing job.

But I think there should be a "do not call" list for political calls. I'm so going to be the first one on it!

Oh, Doogie!

Three words:

#1. Duh.

#2 &3. Who Cares?

questions, questions

LK: Mommy, do you know where your lipsops is?

Me: Isn’t it in my bathroom?

LK: You should look for it. Maybe it’s in BK’s bathroom.
…But I didn’t take it.

Me: How did it get in BK’s bathroom?

LK: Did you look for it yet?

Me: [continuing to dry hair] Why are you asking me? Do you know something about my lipsops? Did you put it in BK’s bathroom? (Ha, three to one on the question answering a question ratio!)

LK: Maybe you should look for it in BK’s bathroom.
… but I didn’t take it

Me: So who put it in BK’s bathroom?

LK: Did you find it already?

Me: Why are you so interested in this lipsops? Did you move it somewhere?

LK: I’m just wondering. (breaking the question for a question mode once again.)

Me: [Stops hairdryer, walks into BK’s bathroom, finds lipsops right there on the counter. Reacts with shock and amazement]
Well – I found my lipsops! How did it get in BK’s bathroom?

LK: I don’t know.

How to get that cute little pink cell phone:

Leave old phone in pocket for laundry obsessed DH to send through the washer.
Visit e-bay and bid on cute little pink phone.

How you know it's been too long since you listened to country music

You're pulling into the parking garage wiping the tears from your cheeks after listening to Collin Raye tear jerker, "Love Me".

Pathetic.

Klepto Kid

We’ve recently had a smate of robberies. Well, maybe not really robberies, but petty thefts. We know who the thief is. She’s 4 years old, and has a new haircut that she really loves.

The thefts occur at all times of the day. So far, we’ve been theft-free during sleeping hours, at least to the best of our knowledge, and I should know, since she still earns her other nickname, the Stealth Snuggler.

Most of the thefts are items that belong to DDD, BK or me. She tends to like lipsops (lipstick – we think the name is a combo between lipstick and lip gloss, but we’ll never know), blush and nail polish. Most of the BK thefts are of the candy version. I don’t get too excited about that. Stop keeping candy in your ROOM!! But sadly, both DDD and I have had favorite glasses (the optical kind) removed from our possession. LK remembers that she had them, but cannot come up with where they are.

Now I know why.

Yesterday, I was changing the sheets for all the beds. Ripped the sheets off, and pretty well emptied out the shelf with the 2nd set of sheets on it. Guess what I found? My favorite glasses!!!

On the shelf.

Behind the sheets.

I wouldn't remember that hiding place, either.

Sadly, no, no favorite glasses for DDD. We are still in search mode for those.

But the haircut – oh so cute.



And I loved being able to use the word "smate" in a sentence!

Terrorists are LTAO

I’ve been busy. I guess it’s a good thing I don’t advertise my blaaawwwg, as I would probably feel very obligated to update it all the time, instead of the rather vague guilt that comes with being just too darn busy to think, let alone update.

I’ve recently come back from a business trip involving airports. It was before we could start bringing certain toiletries with us, as long as they were not in the handly little travel cases designed for such things, but in a one-quart plastic zip-lock bag. (Zip-lock profusely thanks the TSA, by the way, for this endorsement requirement.)

So, because I like to travel with deodorant and makeup, I had to check my bag. I noticed a remarkable abundance of overhead compartment space. I also noticed we loaded and deplaned a whole lot faster. (The airlines thank the TSA for inadvertently increasing their on-time departure rate, but they hate like hell all the baggage handling.)

I think it’s odd, though, that we are allowed to bring these items with us now, but only in 3oz or smaller containers. Anyone who has watched a recent or even not-so-recent spy movie of any kind knows that explosives can come in VERY SMALL amounts and VERY SMALL containers. So what’s up with the 3 oz limit? We’re not worried about your 3 oz bottle, but boy, don’t you even try to bring 4 oz with you!

Our favorite terrorists are laughing their asses off. Whose bright idea was this anyway? If you CAN identify an explosive (or can tell it is non-explosive) in a 3 oz container, what makes you think you CANNOT identify one in a 5 oz container? I’m a little baffled at the logic here. I appreciate that we can bring this stuff along now, but I just don’t get it.
While I don’t suppose I would choose the same method of expression, I think I probably agree with this guy.

Flying isn't nearly as much fun as it used to be. In fact, it's really a pain. And a stupid pain, at that.

We Remember. We Care. Keith Glascoe 1962 - 2001

I remember the moment I saw the first tower crumble.

I never watch TV in the morning, but the news that wakes me up every morning was alarming. The TV was on in a flash and the first tower was smoking with an aircraft stuck in it. Like others, I watched in horror as the second tower was struck.

That seemed horrific in itself, but it wasn't long before the crumbling started. My first words were - Oh my GOD - There are a ton of rescue workers who just piled into that building! There were no other words, just tears.

Keith Alexander Glascoe was one of those firefighters on the scene. He'd packed plenty into his 38 years, but not enough. Born 12/9/62 in San Francisco, it's clear he was the strong, athletic type. I don't know when his family moved back east, but he played football at Midwood High School in Brooklyn. According to all records I've found, he started playing as a youngster and never lost that connection. At 6'4", 270#, I'm quite sure he picked the right sport.

After graduating from college, he pursued more football and some did some acting as well. His role as "Benny" in The Professional with Gary Oldman was a highlight from that period.

He married Veronica Squef in 1996 and was father to two sons, Nolan and Owen. They were expecting his third child when tragedy struck. Keith Jr. will not know his father's arms, but through his family, (and the internet), he will learn of his father's legacy.

There are links and links with wonderful memorials dedicated to Keith. Some written by people who had the privilege to know him. Some informational sites. Check them out. See what this man brought to the lives of others and to our country. Leave a message.

It's been 5 years. Look around you now and appreciate the people you have the privilege to know. Appreciate those who have touched your life in some way, and those whose lives you've touched. Appreciate those who have touched your life in ways they can't know. Keith is one of those special people who have touched my life, long after he gave his. I am privileged to honor him in whatever little way I can. Thank you, Keith.

We remember you.

We care.

We thank you.

Rest in Peace.

*******************************************

Please feel free to comment, add more detail, remember, honor this wonderful man.

I participated in 2996 to honor the memory of all those fallen in the terrorist attacks.

http://www.dcroe.com/2996/ for more tributes to other victims of 9/11. We cannot ever forget them.

Homerun on Cuteness

BK and girlfriend celebrated their 1 year anniversary in August. BK’s a bit of a loser when it comes to doing “special” things for special occasions… for example, he really didn’t like the gift he bought her for Christmas (and he was right – he was being a cheapskate), so he just didn’t give it to her.

Until about 3 weeks later.

Waiting until the right MOMENT, you know…

On Valentine’s Day, his mother dragged him by the hand (let me tell you, that’s embarassing when you’re 16!) into the store to buy something cute and some Hershey Kisses and flowers.

6 month anniversary (only important in year one, you know…), a mix CD happened along with a necklace (purchased by the mom, natch). At least the CD required thought.

Birthday gift was purchased (after a bit of badgering) by you know who. Gee, I wonder if he ever paid me back for that.

So I didn’t have any real hopes that things would change for this occasion. Being a girl myself, though, I know how important an anniversary is – especially when you’re young, dating, and it’s been A WHOLE YEAR! So off we go.

Being a supportive mom and trying my best to instill thoughtfulness into my son, I took him shopping. After many, many jewelry shops and a readjustment of pricing reality, he chose a very nice heart shaped necklace with a few little diamonds and the word “Love” in it. You’ve seen them. While I wouldn’t wear something like that, I agreed that it was probably perfect for a 16 year old girlfriend. So he dug out his $$ and bought it along with a nice chain for it.
He also took her out to a nice dinner. Points scored.

Until…. Ms. Homerun in Cuteness strikes. Whenever I think she’s maxed out on the cuteness factors (she made him a hockey monkey at Build a Bear for last Christmas - freakin' darling!), she ratchets it up a notch. Get this:

She sends him on a scavenger hunt of sorts. He gets a clue in an envelope telling him where his next clue is. There are ten in all. #1 starts at her house and sends him somewhere else special to them. Also included in card #1 are 10 reasons why she loves him. (I know, but try to remember being 16 and in love…)

He travels to various places, Starbucks, Blockbuster, etc. and picks up cards telling him where to go next, and including more reasons why she loves him (9 reasons, then 8, then 7… you get the drift).

Near the end of the hunt she sends him to the community center where they met playing roller hockey. After finding things various places, including their favorite – a Dr. Pepper, the last clue sends him to the faceoff circle where he will find his present. Guess what it was. Or guess WHO it was. Yep – can’t put anything over on you! There she was, all cute and stuff waiting for him. Along with the very last of the reasons she loves him. (oh yeah – and a coupon book she made full of stuff he can redeem – backrubs, skating, bowling, all that kinda stuff.) (Oh yeah – and a nicely framed picture of the two of them.) GAHHH.

How can a mom compete with that kind of cuteness? Clearly the boy cannot come up with ideas on his own to use cuteness to his advantage, nor is he inclined to ask his friends for ideas, so geeeez it’s kinda up to me. And let me tell you, I long for the days when the kid just called up the other kid and asked her/him to go to the dance. Alas, they are truly no longer here.

But the worst part about it was that this was one of the ideas I gave him last year for asking her to the homecoming dance. I even suggested that maybe that would be especially good for the prom. Now we gotta come up with something new.

Bah.

and yet... HELP!

Where ya been?

This - is where I've been.
Still a little disbelief that I'm going to get up on a stage after 34 years and do this, but I guess that is the logical result of all the rehearsals and stuff I've been doing lately. Some of it's fun, some is not. Working with many young people is interesting. We've definitely got some characters in this cast! And as it's a musical, we have musical girls and musical boys. Always good for some fun. We're told tickets are selling pretty well, so the run may be extended to the end of October. I guess that's good, but I was pretty happy it would only be 4 weekends. 7??? Not quite as crazy about that idea. Our lives are already in turmoil from the wreaked schedules.

School has started, BK is a junior and all of a sudden pretty sullen and pulling away from activities he'd done before etc. And of course, we're watching him like a hawk now.

LK is an official "Junior Kindergartener", which makes her the big kid in the school. She's tying her own shoelaces, which makes her the only 4 year old in the school doing that. But to be fair, she only recently figured out her colors... we all have strengths. Hers apparently have to do with shoes.

DH is still job searching and having many interviews, some of them look interesting and promising and some seem like just more of the same. My only advice (I try to remain like Switzerland in this whole process, but this time I slipped a little) is to get the hell out of the business he's been in. Do something - ANYTHING - as long as it's different. So maybe I'm the U.N. this time. I mean well, I give advice, but have very little effect on the decision.

Construction update - house next door almost has a roof again, cutting off our fabulous far away view of some nondescript hill that DH cherished for the few weeks we could see it. Our window has still not been fixed, but that is scheduled to happen next week. The trees are still scorched and strange looking, but I suppose next year they'll look good as new. Hammering starts at about 7:30am, but has never been really terrible. Neighbors across the street ripped their shake roofing off this week and replaced it. Good move. There are about 3 more who really should do the same.

See - life goes on, busy lives are just more boring, I think. I don't have any time to even find the humor in anything right now. Maybe in November.

A day in the life

I was supposed to write a nice mushy post about my anniversary this year. As of last Monday, DH and I have been married for 30 years! God, that is forever. And I have ideas for things that take 30 years, what else happened 30 years ago, etc. etc. But those require a little research, and mostly a little time. And I'm in very short supply of that particular resource. So I’m going to refer you to a very nice post by Amalah, who celebrated her 8th anniversary the day after our thirtieth. She did a wonderful job of summing up anniversary feelings, so thanks, Amalah – and to DH – “what she said…”! Love ya!

So - Discretionary Time is just not available lately. A sample of a recent and, unfortunately, typical day (because it requires no research and links are minimal):

5:30 Alarm goes off. Beastarzmom is supposed to get out of bed and get gym clothes on.

6:10 Beastarzmom finally groans loudly and gets out of bed.

6:25 Get to the gym, only to find all the elliptical machines are taken. Who ARE these people who get up at this ungodly hour to exercise? And dammit, I need the elliptical, as my scoliosis makes the impact I inflict on my body by the treadmill quite painful. And geeez, I HATE the stairstepper and the exercise bikes make my butt hurt and lord almighty, what else can I complain about?

7:35 Leave the gym. Who cares if the workout is done or not, I’ve burned calories and they say that’s a good thing – anyway, there are things to do!

7:40 – 8:30 Shower, pick up left over messes from previous night owls (16 y/0, 22 y/o and 25y/o who I am so TOTALLY not staying up for anymore.) Encourage somnolent 4 year old to wake up and get going.

8:30 Physically pull 4 year old out of bed. If it’s shower day, take screaming child into shower. Wash & condition hair, soap up, get the hell out.

8:45 Try to brush screaming 4 year old’s hair which has just been conditioned, so it’s just not that bad, child! Get over it.

8:55 Round child up again and get hair finished and teeth brushed. What? Forgot breakfast? Shit. Breakfast bar it is. Maybe you'll just eat the school lunch today. Do I have any money? Shit. Throw a quesadilla together and stick it in a lunch bag.

9:20 Finally in car driving to day care. Get reminded to turn the right way. Thank you very much underage back seat driver.

9:30 Peel child off legs for the fourteenth time, wondering aloud why some days are so easy and some are so awful. Beg telepathically for a teacher to come along and peel child off with me.

9:40 Get in car and drive off. Damn. Late for work AGAIN! Don’t know why they put up with me.

10:10 Park after listening to whatever book on tape/CD I’ve got going. (Nicholas Sparks’ The Guardian – so far totally predictable, but a nice commute pasttime nontheless.) Grumble as car/tape gets turned off and walk to office.

10 – 5 (sorta) Work. Find work to do. Sometimes busy, Sometimes not. No details. I know better.

5:00 Walk back to car, looking forward to listening to story again. (I actually would drive around places just for the hell of it when I was listening to Harry Potter. Jim Dale – you are incredible!)

5:45 Get to daycare, coerce unwilling child to actually leave day care. (So what was that all about this morning?)

6:00 Finally get child into car. Listen to all the reasons she should have stayed there and it is no fair that I picked her up.

6:10 Get home, swear at the mess that aforementioned larger people have left during the day. Try to find something to eat that only takes 10 minutes to prepare. It sucks that we don’t do fast food anymore.

6:30 Sit down to “eat”. In reality, shovel food into mouth at breakneck speeds. Realize that 4 year old is not keeping up with the pace and go get container to take food with.

6:45 Drive to rehearsal at 7. Hope not to be late. One little old lady or little man with a hat in front of us and we’re toast.

7:03 Shit. Late, but not by much. Rehearsal has started. Easy enough to catch up. Set up young lady with remnants of interrupted dinner. Watch as young lady decides to dance with the music instead. Shrug shoulders and go take my place in the scene.

7:03 – 9:55 Alternately walk through scene, take notes, wait, get confused, wait, walk through scene with child on back, get confused, wait, wait, wait. Finally leave.

10:15 Home. Child wants to watch a movie. I suggest that 10pm is really not a good time to turn on a movie. Daddy is already turning the movie on. Sigh loudly and go catch up on email – maybe she needs to wind down a bit after all too.

10:30 Turn off TV, Try to get young lady into her own bed. Being unsuccessful, elicit promise that at the first kick, she’s off to her own bed.

10:40 Go out and gather up crap left by aforementioned larger people (mostly boys). Find places for it.

10:50 Grab jammies and slide into my 6 inches of bed. Get into butt-up-against position and try to sleep.

11:03 Acknowledge 16 year old who is finally home at the stroke of 11. (California State imposes curfew rules of 11pm for 1st year drivers. I like this – for once, I don’t have to be the bad guy.) Try to remember what I need him to do the next day.

11:50 Look over at clock and swear, wondering WHY someone so exhausted could still be awake.

5:30am 2nd verse. Same as the first.

Will you join?

I found this on one of the "nurse-y" blogs that I visit.

I'm totally in. Admittedly, it doesn't take much to make me misty, but whenever I read or re-read an account from 9/11, or hear stories of its aftermath, my heart just breaks.

I will join in and post my tribute to "my" victim on 9/11. Please, if you have a blog, take the time to join the ranks. If you don't have a blog - blogspot's pretty darn easy! Try it for a day! What a great reason to start.... even if you don't continue.

http://www.dcroe.com/2996/

Thanks.

Hooked again

Here I was, minding my own business, playing my favorite solitaire and card games, retaining my title as Queen of Dr. Mario, and along comes a new game – Sudoku.

Now, Sudoku is not really new. But I’ve been avoiding it. Like the plague.

You see, I know myself. I have a bit of an addictive streak when it comes to puzzle types of games. I have no interest in Grand Theft Auto, or Halo 1-17. I will occasionally dabble in a little word yahtzee or boggle, but my addictions tend to be of the puzzle type.

So, my internet provider very sweetly offered me a free full functioning game of Sudoku. I decided I’d just go ahead and see what everyone was talking about – not that I’d play it or anything.

Three days later… I am hooked. Can’t get enough. I’ll play it with “automark” on, “automark” off, any level, for time, for points, for whatever strikes my fancy. Oh, and the IP provider/game service tracks scores for the last 24 hours, so if you think you’ve gotten a pretty good score and submit it to the global list, you can see just how stupid you are, that there are 653 people with better scores than the great one you just submitted.

But then – you submit a score and find that you are number 54! Whoa! Only 53 better scores than yours??? Let’s go for getting into the 40s! the 30s! the 20s! How about top 10? You see where we’re going with this? I had to DRAG myself away from the computer to exercise my feeble attempts at conversation and family togetherness. All the while trying to figure out what I needed to do to get that higher score.

Wonder if there are any Sudoku Anonymous groups starting up. I might need one.

I don't get it

For People Who Can’t Tell a Joke, like me, hearing a good joke is wonderful. But even hearing a bad joke is ok. One of my colleagues tried to tell me a joke a day or so ago. He is also a Person Who Can’t Tell a Joke, so I thoroughly enjoyed the agony he was going through to get this thing out. I have no idea what the joke really was supposed to be, but it was something about a damn fish and some m-f butter. He ended the joke with the requisite apology, that it was a much funnier joke if only he could have told the “beginning” part right! I so totally know your pain.

I have exactly two jokes in my repertoire. Actually one is a riddle. (But I even mess those up, typically – usually putting some part of the witty answer in the question. Yeah – you want to hear those things from someone else. Trust me.) And the other one could definitely be considered offensive to some… Anyway – I have periodically attempted to increase this repertoire, and have made it to 4 or maybe even 5 jokes from time to time. But the old memory thing just doesn’t work for this stuff, and I revert back to my two old standbys. Hence, I don’t tell jokes.

But I like to listen – Those of you who are blessed with the ability to tell a good story - got any good ones?

Talk about a full house...

I read this and after the omg horror moment, am ashamed.

I have my 4 kids all living under the same roof again, in a not huge, but decently sized 4 bedroom home in a nice suburban area with terrific schools, etc. etc. and I'm complaining (ok, not really complaining, but THINKING) about how crammed in here we feel. How much messier the house seems now, how no one EVER cleans up after themselves. OK, maybe they do, but with more people in the house, it's more noticeable when they don't.

These people wanted lots of children. They have 2. want more. go get pregnant and have triplets. think they're done. get pregnant again and have 4 more. WHAAAAA? And the kicker for me? They live in a one bedroom apartment. 11 people in a one bedroom apartment? Granted the quads aren't home yet, so it's only 7 right now. That's one more than is in my house right now, and one of mine is in the garage!

God bless them and watch over them and I'm gonna shut my damn mouth!