365 for 365

Because

2010-05-25T10:48:00.000-06:00

I just locked myself in the bathroom for about 20 minutes to bawl my eyes out. Because I somehow got caught on the wrong side of friend politics with one of my oldest and closest friends. Because I’m totally overwhelmed by life in general right now. Because I am hormonal. Because I’m facing a summer with no money with which to entertain my children and to be frank, I’m just not that creative. Because I just want one thing to go our way, and it’s not. Because my dad is dying. Because my son is struggling mightily with growing up and I don’t know how to help him. Because my daughter is sweet and amazing and I just cannot keep up with her right now and thus the guilt is nearly overwhelming. Because I haven’t had a day off in longer than is healthy for me. Because I miss my friends and I’m not entirely sure they miss me back (although that might be the hormones talking). Because the fucking wind will not stop. Because I can’t seem to stay on top of laundry. Because we didn’t get to plant flowers on Mother’s Day this year because of lack of money and the weather won’t settle into spring. Because our lawyer has turned into a jackass. Because I desperately want to ask my in laws to please come for a visit just to have fun and get to know their grandchildren and I’m terrified to ask because I couldn’t handle it if they say no, but I miss them. Because I’m tired and the sleepless nights have already started. Because I’m in a cooking rut I can’t seem to find my way out of. Because we got invited to a fancy party on Sunday night and I don’t have anything fancy to wear and no one to watch my children so they have to come with us to this party where there will probably be no other children and they also don’t have anything fancy to wear. Because my neighbor across the street is moving and I’m going to miss her and her children. Because, because, because, because…I guess I just needed a good cry.

What's Next?

2010-05-11T19:02:00.001-06:00

So. I told you I was back and apparently I lied a little. But in my defense I have been thinking about writing a lot over the last couple of weeks. Trying to decide where I want to take my writing to be specific.

I miss writing the fiction over at 52 in 52, but I just have no time and very little energy to put into that endeavor right now. I know it will wait and hopefully one day soon I’ll get back into that particular groove as it was fun and interesting and I was learning a lot.

Here’s what I am not missing. I’m not missing scaling my writing, and thoughts, back to 365 words a day. And I’m also not missing having to write every single day. I still have a ton of stuff I want and need to write about, but I am just not feeling the everyday commitment need anymore. And perhaps that’s a good thing. Perhaps it’s exactly what I was waiting for with this whole 365 project. To reach a time where writing out my thoughts and stories came completely naturally and without self incrimination. I know now that when I need to write, I simply take the time to do it. So perhaps it’s entirely appropriate for me to let go of this particular project and begin a new one.

And that is what I’ve spent most of my time thinking about. I think one of the reasons I’ve not ever really reached a large audience is because my writing is so all over the place. I mean one day I am writing about totally benign things like my favorite TV shows, movies and food. While the next I’ve taken off on a journey of cuss-laden venting and spiritual/political/feminist/mothering pontification that send even my dearest friends reeling.

But I’d love to reach a larger audience. Mostly because I’m ready to put myself out there I think. I’m ready to broach the topic of community with a larger population sample. I’m just ready for more with my writing in pretty much every respect. Now I just have to figure out what that will look like. Any ideas?

Back Again

2010-05-05T15:23:00.001-06:00

Alright, I’m back. I haven’t been writing, and I’m not going to apologize or make excuses for it. I needed a break from writing and from advertising my world and mess to the (teeny, tiny) masses of my readers I think. Life has just been piling it all thick as of late and I’m exhausted and sick and constantly on the verge of tears it seems. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, I can’t cry all the time right now because it just makes my head hurt worse than it already does from the hellish sinus infection that will not leave me alone until I am thoroughly battered and beaten.

I would like to just shut down and give up. I’d like to just retract and stop.

But I can’t. Because my children need me. Because my husband needs me. Because my Dad needs me. Because my friends need me.

So I’m going to force myself to keep tuning in. And to get back to writing every day. Even if it does go back to the 365 words a day of nonsensical, emotional babbling just to get it out of my head. Because I’ve got so much crap in my head right now I don’t even know where to start or what to do with it.

All I do know is if I don’t stay engaged, I will suffer and the people I love will suffer and that’s simply not acceptable. So hopefully I can figure out a way to simplify, so that I can tackle things one at a time in a way that makes sense. I know that I can’t stop the spinning and I certainly have no control over what the universe piles onto my plate, but maybe I can figure out a way to keep it from making me so dizzy.

I have no idea what that will look like, but I know I’m in need of some taking care of. I’ve been so focused on taking care of everyone around me that I’ve forgotten about me. And while taking care of the people I love is nourishing in and of itself, I need some recharge time.

Vacation Please

2010-04-22T16:49:00.000-06:00

I think we all need a vacation. Seriously.

The Boy spiked a fever last night that persisted through the night. So my husband decided not to send him to school and to stay home himself to “help me with the kids.” What I think really happened is that my husband needed a day off and decided The Boy being sick was a good enough reason. Which is fine with me, it’s nice to just have a day with all four of us home and not having to have the crazy busy weekend routine. The Girl still went to school, although she wasn’t thrilled about toddling off to school while her brother and dada lay on the couch and watched cartoons.

I feel a little like I’m walking a razor’s edge. I mean I feel like I have been walking it for more than a year now so I’ve gotten pretty good at it, but that’s still where I am. I keep telling myself that walking along this thin line is just where I am right now and it’s ok. And it is, because it has to be. But if I let myself relax for even a moment I feel like my balance will go right out the window and I’ll fall to either side.

It would be such a relief to just be able to go away with my family and enjoy some time where we don’t have to worry about anything. We can put the cell phones down and walk away. We can look at our days from the perspective of what we want to do instead of what needs to be done. I would just really love to get away for a few days with my kiddos and my husband to reconnect and recharge with each other and ourselves.

I know that it won’t fix anything and won’t make anything different in the bigger scheme of things. But it would allow us to just be a family for a few days without all the baggage that has been added to our backs for the last 18 months.

We could all just really use a break, hopefully we’ll figure out how to take one.

4/21/10 - The Boy

2010-04-22T16:34:00.000-06:00

The Boy is having a hard time. He’s spent the last couple of weeks throwing magnum force meltdown temper tantrums. He’s been full of anger and not at all responding to redirection well. Essentially, for lack of other more politically correct parenting terms, he’s been freaking out. And it just keeps getting worse. Until he had the mother of all meltdowns last night. My husband and I were up with him until almost 9:30pm (we typically put both kids to bed at 7pm). He spent most of that time crying, screaming, kicking, slamming his head into the wall and throwing things. He would not listen to me or his dad, he would not calm down. He was totally lost in this gigantic emotional outburst. We finally just left him in his room and told him to let us know when he was ready to talk. After another almost hour of crying and screaming he asked us to come in and talk to him. And after another almost 30 minutes of unintelligible mumbling we finally got out of him that he was just really mad and sad that his papa was going to die.

Ah. Ok. Here we go.

I’m actually surprised it took this long to surface. I was surprised with how well he took the conversation my dad had with both the kids. But there was also a sneaky suspicion boiling that he in fact did not take it well at all and was instead just stuffing all the emotions the news brought up with him. That he was hoping that keeping perpetually busy, running like a wild child with his friends that maybe the news would just go away. And then I told him that his sister and I were going back to Nana and Papa’s next week and it was all downhill from there.

He had another meltdown at school today which ended with the school calling me three times to give me updates on how he was doing.

I’m worried about him. And I don’t know how to help him. I think all I can do right now is love him and make sure he knows that he is not alone.

Ultrasound #2

2010-04-20T14:44:00.000-06:00

Ok, so I’ve now had two ultrasounds and the absolutely, positively last word on the subject is that there is only one baby in my belly. I had the second ultrasound yesterday and I made sure the tech looked everywhere a second one could possibly be hiding and she was willing to stake her job on the fact that there’s only one in there. But there is still the issue of why I’m so big already, which apparently can be explained by a couple of different things. The first of which is that this is our third baby and a woman’s body tends to just really know what it’s doing by this point and lets it all hang out, so to speak. The second of which is that I’ve got a good sized fibroid attached to the wall of my uterus which is making me seem bigger than I am because it’s taking up space where there normally wouldn’t be anything taking up space quite yet.

The ultrasound tech didn’t sound too concerned about the whole big picture. And after doing some research on fibroids I understand why. They’re incredibly common and don’t usually cause any major problems for pregnant women, although they do introduce a risk of preterm labor if they get too big as they typically continue to grow during pregnancy. So that worries me a wee bit, but I’ll just talk to my OB at my next appointment and get a really good handle on what she sees as the big picture specific to me. So I’m trying to let any worry seep away and let burgeoning excitement over this new baby take its place.

Because this sweet fuzzhead in my belly was wiggling madly whilst on camera yesterday. It was stubbornly refusing to turn at all, so we got awesome back and butt shots. Because despite how little this babe still is, I can feel it kicking occasionally and no matter how many times I do this, that will never cease to send an immense thrill through me. Because the kids are super excited and we get to start choosing names. Because my expanding belly means our family gets to grow.

4/19/10 - Parenting Hackles

2010-04-20T14:13:00.002-06:00

I’ve read a couple of articles this week that have my parenting hackles way up.

One article is about raising daughters and how to handle the issues of body image. I think what has me so upset about it is the fact that the article does not even recognize that boys have extreme body image issues as well. And as a mother raising a son and a daughter I’ve got it from both sides. With both kids it’s a double whammy. Because I’ve got to figure out how to help them foster their own positive body image as well as how to support the people, regardless of gender, that they have in their lives. They both have to learn how to see people as they want to be seen – as the kind, compassionate, creative, intelligent, amazing people they are.

One article is about bullying. And this is an issue that is a tremendously loaded for me. I survived an abusive relationship while in high school and vowed to never again allow another human being treat me as anything less than what I felt I deserved. And that is also a very high priority for me to teach my children. Which is why this article pisses me off so much. Because essentially it’s saying that you should expect your child, regardless of age or gender, to be able to handle it themselves and that you should “praise them for suffering well.” If that fails to remedy the situation, then you could intercede on their behalf. I’m sorry, but are you frigging kidding me?!? There is no part of that that is acceptable to me. I will not accept my children facing bullies alone. And I sure as hell won’t accept teaching them to suffer well. I’m raising people, not martyrs here.

The root of both issues is self confidence. On every imaginable level. Honestly I don’t think I know anyone who has utter confidence on every level. So I’m setting a tall order for myself to be able to impart that to my children. But if I could just help them to see themselves as I do, I think we’ll be heading in the right direction.

Strawberry Pie

2010-04-18T18:13:00.001-06:00

My Dad used to take me back to Nebraska to visit family almost every summer. Then when I was old enough, my parents would put me on a plane to go for a longer visit by myself. It was something I really looked forward to every year. My cousin M and I would lie in the sun on the grass outside my grandma’s apartment (read: get burnt to a crisp and eaten alive by chiggers). We’d walk along the railroad tracks talking about life in the big city and small town. We’d go swimming at the little town pool. We’d use our entire summer allowance to buy an obscene amount of fireworks. We’d use whatever was left over for candy and ice cream. We’d hop from aunt’s house to aunt’s house for BBQ’s and family get-togethers. We’d always make at least one shopping trip into Lincoln that would end with dinner at Valentino’s (they had dessert pizza!). We’d make one longer pilgrimage to Omaha to see Aunt S and do more shopping. It was always a trip full of fun activities and me being a big city girl, exploring small town life and being absolutely enthralled with it (although not always well versed in the do’s and don’ts of small town life, like the time when my grandmother completely blew a gasket over me sitting on the curb on main street watching the teenagers cruise on a Friday night – how was I to know it wasn’t lady like?).

But one of my most favorite memories is that my grandma always, always made me strawberry pie. She knew it was my favorite and she always made sure she had a pie waiting for me upon my arrival. And I’ve been searching for the perfect strawberry pie recipe ever since, without success. But recently my Aunt J sent me several strawberry pie recipes that she found in my grandma’s recipes, so I’m trying the one that sounds like I remember tasting today and I cannot wait.

I cannot wait to see the looks on my children’s faces upon their first bite. And I cannot wait for the flood of memories that will come with my first bite.

Good and Productive

2010-04-17T19:40:00.001-06:00

Let the spring cleaning commence!! I delved into my twice a year routine of cleaning out closets today and with gusto. Typically, I don’t do much nesting when I’m pregnant. And when I do, it generally manifests in cooking and baking, not cleaning. But I’m a bit of a freak about closets. I get crazy when the kids’ clothes get out of hand. The Girl has grown 7 inches in the last nine months and The Boy has grown almost 6 inches in the last year, so the majority of their clothing no longer fits and just gets in the way. There are tangles of t-shirts and socks mixed in with sweat pants and shorts and it just flat makes me crazy. Plus it was time to re-organize my own closet to better reflect, well, the clothes I can actually wear at the moment. It was the maternity overhaul I’ve done twice before in an effort to shove my regular clothes to the side and fully embrace and celebrate my growing belly for the next several months. I’m usually pretty good at not being too hard on myself about gaining weight when I’m pregnant or allowing my growing belly to change the way I feel about how I look. If anything I typically feel that much more powerful, it’s pretty cool. But I’ll take all the help I can get, hence the closet shift.

And we got the house mostly cleaned today and caught up on laundry. It was a pretty busy day all in all and I was grateful that I felt good enough to be doing it all. I’ve been struggling for the last week with recurring migraines that have been kicking my ass and I was just thrilled to be able to be productive today without also being in pain.

My husband and I called it quits late afternoon when the kids found play mates braving the rain and the cold to come and ask if they could play and we found The Breakfast Club on TV. I said lines along with Bender and the rest of the crew while my husband snored loudly in the background. It was a good day.

4/16/10 - Community

2010-04-17T19:19:00.001-06:00

I got to go on a mama’s playdate this evening with my dear friend LD. She and I have a hard time getting together because, as we learned tonight, we’re both really home bodies and have to force ourselves out into the world. We’re both really very social creatures, it’s the actual putting on of shoes and the like that we find a wee bit troublesome. But we managed to overcome last night and ended up at a lovely little tea house in town where we stayed until way beyond when you would think a tea house would be open.

And through all the chit chat about kids and family and the future and everything else that goes along with those things, we found the conversation kept wending its way back to the subject of community. Talking about the Story Corps project, about making sure to record the precious stories in our parents and grandparents memories. All of it coming back to the simple idea of tracking and honoring the threads and history that create our community, whatever or wherever that may be.

It’s a subject that has had deep personal meaning to me for as long as I can remember. My desire for a big family stems from my need and want of community. I loved my small college and the small sorority that I joined because of the inherent community. I reach out to the kindred spirits around me in the hopes of creating community. One that is fearless in its support, unhindered by self inflicted constraints and thriving with its own vibrant life force.

I’m sure this all sounds a bit woo woo and mushy for someone as concrete as I typically am. But I think the idea of community itself is a bit on the mushy side. I think it defies definition in so many ways because it is utterly subjective. But it is so vitally important to me and the way I choose to exist in the world. And I think it’s a larger conversation that needs to be bumped up in the realm of importance and priorities. Now if I could just figure out how to get it started.

Friends and Buns

2010-04-15T20:25:00.000-06:00

Since I know that I’ll be heading back down to NM the end of the month for at least a long weekend and most likely for longer, I decided to do whatever I could to have the three weeks I have at home to be as chock full of friends as I could possibly make them. And I’m doing pretty well so far. I got to spend all morning with L and her sweet new kiddo L, which was a special treat since we almost never get to spend several hours together just chatting and hanging out.

We have a playdate set for tomorrow afternoon with some other friends who had moved away for a while and are now back after The Boy’s parent/teach conference. Then I’m going out for tea tomorrow evening with dearest L, who is another friend I don’t get to see nearly enough.

And I’m getting daily interaction with the new neighborhood moms by whom I’ve been adopted and the kids are loving being able to play without time limits while I’m chatting away.

I get to have coffee with sweet E and baby L (so many L’s in my life!) next week. And I’m trying to get a lunch or brunch date worked out with T since it’s been way too long since I’ve seen her.

I’m stocking up on my social interactions I think. Recharging after being in isolation for so long. Catching up with the people in my life whom I adore and who make my life here so much more fun to live. Hopefully I’ll be able to fill out the rest of next week and the week after with more girlfriends I haven’t seen in at least a month.

Oh, and as a funny aside, I’ve now taken The Girl to school twice since I’ve started showing but haven’t made a huge announcement and the looks on everyone’s faces both days this week have been pretty funny. They don’t know if I’ve been eating boxes and boxes of bonbons whilst taking care of my dying father or if I’ve got another bun in the oven, but they’re all too polite to ask. It’s pretty funny actually.

4/14/10 - Daily Rundown

2010-04-15T20:10:00.000-06:00

The migraine plague has returned full force, so I’m sorry, but you’re getting a rundown of my day today and that’s about all I can offer.

The Girl and I got to listen to the baby’s heartbeat for the first time this morning. And I got my OB thinking again that I might have more than one in there. Apparently I’m quite a bit bigger than I should be at this point (yeah, I knew that already), so she ordered another ultra sound to be done on Monday to see for sure if I’ve got one or two in there. The Girl got quite the kick out of hearing the heartbeat and it never ceases to make me smile too. Such a cool thing.

And I’ve apparently been adopted into the neighborhood stay at home mom coalition. Because every time I step outside I get surrounded by neighbor moms wanting and needing to chat. I’ve always kind of been a loner in this neighborhood with the exception of a few people that I really connected with. But this group of women just decided they weren’t taking no for an answer anymore and I must say that I’m actually pretty happy about it. They are all military wives so I get to continue asking all the questions I used to ask of L when she lived next door and The Boy and The Girl adore all of their children. C lives next door in L and B’s old house, A lives across the street and has 5 boys, K lives next door to A and has 3 boys, S lives down the street and has 2 boys. So pretty much The Boy is in heaven in this neighborhood and The Girl would do almost anything to have a girl to play with. But in the meantime is totally happy kicking all the boys’ butts at sword play and Avatar.

So we hung out and chatted while cussing out cars driving entirely too fast down our street and reminding the kids to watch for cars as they rode their bikes up and down the street.

It was a good day, even if the migraine plague has returned.

Spring Love

2010-04-13T19:06:00.001-06:00

I vacillate between spring and fall being my favorite seasons. Usually when spring rolls around after a long hard winter, it is automatically my favorite season. And then when fall finally breaks through the grinding heat of summer, it becomes very near and dear to my heart. But as I was driving home from NM on Friday, I was reminded once more of why spring is my favorite season.

When I was living in Nebraska during college it was, in so many ways, so much easier to mark the passing of the seasons by so much more than the weather. Because I was surrounded by farm and ranch land that was driven to life and death by every touch of weather as well as hands. And I distinctly remember driving through the country on the way to Lincoln at the very beginning of spring and watching the land wake was almost like watching a bruise heal. The bland, ashy, brown, dead fields would slowly start to yellow as the green started poking its head through the brown and then eventually it would yield to full and lush green for just a few days before it all got tilled under again and rendered rich, vibrant brown awaiting crops to start peeking and turn it all green again.

On Friday on the way home I found much the same thing. Except I knew the majority of the land that I could see yellowing would not be tilled under, but would continue through the greening process until it reached the faint sage color that the desert turns in the middle of summer. The brown in the desert is never really vibrant per say, but it is alive in its own steeped in history kind of way.

I love spring. I love watching the earth and the people wake back up after being cooped up inside for so long. I love watching the neighborhood kids swarm to any and all open yards to play whenever they can. I love strawberries and asparagus. I love the red that crosses my cheeks after standing in the sun for too long. I love the awakening and that joy that comes with it.

The Things That Go Unwritten

2010-04-12T19:21:00.001-06:00

Why is it that there’re so many things nobody writes or talks about? Especially in regards to life changing events. After I had The Boy I remember making a long list about all the things that none of the books or my friends told me about pregnancy, child birth and motherhood. The same thing with marriage. And now, I’m finding it holds true with watching someone you love die as well.

There’s so much written about the grieving process. About the fear and the sadness and the guilt and the other well documented emotions that are typically found camped out around death. There’s less written about the process of watching someone die. But it’s still there. The process of watching the body shut down and everything that goes with that. There’s even a little bit written about how hard it is to watch someone you love diminish, decline, disintegrate, deteriorate and every other “d” word having to do with the state that occurs when one’s body betrays them and starts shutting down from the inside out.

But so far, I’ve not found much written about the horrors of the mind that come along through all of these processes. And there is so much bandying about in my mind that I just cannot hold onto anymore.

I cannot hold onto the images that float, unbidden, into my mind of my dad slowly mummifying from the inside out because his organs are giving up. The horrifically detailed pictures I have of his liver and lungs and heart slowly petrifying and then turning to dust as he wonders how to control the pain.

I cannot hold onto the guilt of wondering when my part in all of this will be done. When do I get to stop taking care of my parents?

I cannot hold onto the idea that this is all my job. That I have to be everything to everyone every time. Can I put down something down without that person or activity thinking I no longer care?

These are the things that make me feel alone. But like my Dad’s not the first dad to die of cancer, I have to know that I’m not.

4/11/10 - That and This

2010-04-12T09:40:00.000-06:00

Bloody migraines. Seriously.

I went to bed last night with a headache and woke up this morning with a migraine. Not even remotely close to how I wanted to spend my first weekend home. But oh well. At least it’s allowed me to just lie on the couch like broccoli and catch up on my DVR’d shows. And my husband gallantly took the kids and played and played and played. He got The Boy a little closer to being done with his homework, thank goodness. And he had to work yesterday afternoon. It was a pretty cool sight to see my husband on one end of the desk typing away while The Boy was on the other end of the desk diligently working hard on his homework. Made me smile.

What also made me smile was watching The Boy zoom down the street on his bike today. He learned how to ride his bike with no training wheels at the end of last summer, so he didn’t get a lot of time to get it down pat. And then with how wet this winter has been he hasn’t had much time to practice since then either, but it just thrilled me to watch him fly by this afternoon.

I finally got to watch Julie/Julia tonight. And it was lovely. I’m not a huge fan of Amy Adams so I was afraid she’d ruin it for me, but Meryl Streep made up for all of her shortcomings in just being brilliant. I think I would have been happier to just watch a movie about Julia Child’s life instead of this Julie character breaking up the timeline. But overall, it was lovely.

The Boy goes back to school tomorrow. And life as I typically know it resumes. Taxes go in the mail tomorrow finally, although I’m refraining from getting too attached to our projected refund as the bankruptcy estate may still take it. We did finally get our official bankruptcy discharge though! That was a happy sight for my eyes to be sure. It’s almost over. Maybe we’ll still be able to make it to Georgia to see my husband’s parents this summer – keeping my fingers crossed.

4/10/10 - Reintegration

2010-04-12T09:20:00.002-06:00

So here’s the part about being home that I always forget about in my excitement to just be home – the reintegration process. I always forget that the kids and I are in our own routines and daily patterns and so is my husband. And that my internal daily to do list is vastly different at my parents’ house than it is at my own house. So there’s always several days of relearning how to live with each other in this day-to-day life.

Plus, and this always emerges no matter how hard I try not to let it, there’s always the issue of the fact that my husband essentially just got a 3 week vacation. Yes, he was still working, but that’s all he had to do. He was wonderful and did a bunch of stuff around the house we’ve been meaning to get to, but I even envy him that. Because of the simplicity. As I’ve said many, many times, his life is no easier than mine, but it sure is a whole lot simpler. Because he has dedicated time to do everything in his day. He has dedicated time to work. Dedicated family time. Dedicated alone time in his commute to and from work. Whereas I have to carve out time for all of that stuff. I have to juggle between time with the kiddos playing, laundry, cleaning and everything else that crowds my plate. And when I go down to my parents’ house, that plate just gets even more crowded. So inevitably my husband will say something about having to get up a bit earlier to take The Boy to school and I end up yelling at him. I know it’s silly and doesn’t make sense. But there you go. I’m just badly in need of a very real vacation.

In the meantime however, I need to get our laundry done, start back with my meal planning and compiling a grocery list to re-equip the kitchen with non-bachelor mode food and assorted other things. As well as catching up with friends, getting the kids back into the swing of things with school and so on and so forth.

All in a day’s work.

4/9/10 - Home Again, Home Again

2010-04-10T13:58:00.000-06:00

So I just decided to bring the kids and I home today. Well, I decided yesterday, but brought us home today. My Dad seems to be doing ok and I thought he’d do ok with an afternoon alone if the kids and I left around lunchtime and my mom spent the afternoon at work. He agreed with me so I got to packing. It’s just time. My husband was really missing being a husband and dad. The kids were really missing their dad and their own worlds. And I have well documented all the things that I miss, so I don’t really need to go there again. Plus leaving today means that we get the whole weekend at home to catch up and hang out.

The Boy needs to catch up on his homework in a big, bad way. I’ve been a big slacker about making him sit down and get his homework done, so it’s my fault really. He had a huge amount of assigned work to do and I just didn’t make time to get it all done. So he’s easily got half of the work left to do this weekend. Although I think I’m going to have to cop to his teacher and get an extension or something since it’s my fault and not his, so that he doesn’t lose his whole weekend.

I need to catch up on computer work. I need to catch up with friends. I just need to catch up. I feel like I put my life on hold for the last three weeks and now it’s time to pick it back up and catch up. Although I’ve found myself missing my friends and my connections with them, I’ve not missed all the stuff that comes with being so hooked into the internet. So I think I’ll probably pare down my computer time from now on and focus the time I do spend on more productive endeavors like my writing and just really connecting with the people I love.

And overall we need to catch up as a family. We need to re-find our rhythm with each other. I’m looking forward to it. I missed my everyday life.

4/8/10 - Seafood and Recap

2010-04-10T13:18:00.001-06:00

My mom has been trying to do something nice for me. And I keep thwarting her efforts. Mostly because what she’s been trying to do requires the expenditure of money that’s just not necessary. But regardless, she’s starting to get irritated with me I think. So she’s taking me and the kids to dinner tonight. At Red Lobster. I’ve been craving seafood for weeks and it’s the only seafood restaurant in town so off we go.

My Dad had a doctor’s appointment today with his main doc to debrief and reassess after last weekend’s debacle as well as the doc being out of town for the last two and half weeks. The doc was irritated that everything was handled the way it was and was also irritated that his prescription of a gout medication made everyone assume that my Dad had been diagnosed with gout. I kind of wanted to tell him to either get over himself or else write better diagnostic notes in the file. But he’s also endeavored to mess about with my Dad’s meds, so we’ll see how it goes. He’s taking my Dad off the blood thinners so that he can switch him to anti inflammatories and is switching his pain med to a slow release pain patch instead of the every 4 hours morphine he had been on. I’m worried about taking him off the blood thinners as that opens him up to risks of heart attack and stroke. But hopefully the benefits outweigh the risks. And the doc said we’d know the benefits fairly soon, so if they don’t outweigh, then he’ll go back to the blood thinners. It’s all such experimentation at this stage, which I find utterly infuriating. I mean, my dad has to pay the price of his comfort so that the docs can figure all of this out, in a case that is not unique that they’ve all seen so many times before and still can’t get right. And when my Dad has little more than his comfort left, I tend to get my hackles raised when they start messing with it.

So I’m keeping my fingers crossed and looking forward to scallops this evening.

4/7/10 - Books, Books, Books

2010-04-10T12:47:00.000-06:00

After finishing my last book, I decided some brain candy was in order. My Dad pretty much only reads mysteries and since I have been meaning to increase my knowledge in the mystery realm, I jumped on the huge pile of books he had recommended this week. The weather has been lovely, so the kids have been running wild outside, leaving me more time than I’ve had in a long time to just read.

I started off easily with Robert B. Parker. I’ve read three of his book so far and they are pretty much the definition of brain candy. He’s the dictionary definition of formulaic, but his characters are still funny and witty even if the story itself is lacking a bit. His stories are really about the characters that he creates. What I found myself really liking about him was his dialogue. But I finished every book wanting more. More from the story, more from the characters.

So I delved into a Stuart Woods book next and promptly fell in love with it. There’s just so much more depth to everything about the book. It was centered on one character that my Dad has said he has a series with named Holly Barker. And she is a badass, incredibly smart woman. The story itself kept me guessing, had more of the dark and dirtier elements that I wanted and most importantly, it gave me a big payoff in the end. I’m definitely going to pick up more of Stuart Woods in the future.

Lastly was Michael Connelly. He had been recommended to me a while ago by friends when I was originally looking for mystery novels. Specifically his Harry Bosch books, so I picked up a couple of those to begin with. His stories are by far the darkest I’ve read so far. And I really like the main character. The one book of his that I read without Bosch in it I was not as impressed with. It was uneven and I never really cared about the main character much.

It’s been a fun foray into the mystery realm. And I’m excited to branch out and see what else is out there.

4/6/10 - 0 to 60

2010-04-10T12:17:00.001-06:00

I feel like this pregnancy has taken me from 0 to 60. I know I’ve written about this before. Like last week I think. But seriously. I’m just so not accustomed to doing pregnancy at this kind of warp speed. Typically my pregnancies take a bit of time to ramp up. I sort of slowly start rounding (more than I already am that is). Mostly the things I’m feeling are entirely internal, i.e. fatigue, some nausea, aches and pains. It’s really not until about half way through that someone could look at me on the street and know that I was pregnant and not just falling prey to whatever holiday associated candy happens to be lining the aisles. I’m tall and I am blessed with breeder hips so I carry well and covertly until my belly literally just pops.

This time however, I knew almost immediately that I was pregnant. And here I am, only 12 weeks into this journey and I already look 20 weeks pregnant. There’s no mistaking this belly for chocolate bunny over indulgence.

And I’m sorry to keep going on and on about this. It’s just got me totally shocked. I am sure it’s just that this is the third baby and my body is ramping up more quickly because it’s done this before so successfully. It’s probably just totally in “Oh honey, I got this!” mode. Except for the fact that friends and family keep saying, without prompting, that I should get ready for twins. Or asking how the twins are doing. Or wondering if twins run in our families. It’s a strange thing that has me totally paranoid. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I would welcome the opportunity to have twins. Yes, the idea of it scares me silly and puts in doubt my patience and sanity levels. But at the end of the day there’s some symmetry in it that I find really appealing and it would mean that I would get two sweet babies to snuggle with at once. But at this point, it’s all projection. Again, here I am projecting.

Back to the here and now. With my quickly growing belly and equally large curiosity.

4/5/10 - Projection

2010-04-10T11:33:00.001-06:00

From a purely selfish point of view, I am so ready to go home I could scream. Everywhere I look I am surrounded by sickness. My Dad is doing a bit better, but still nowhere near 100% and at this point, I’m not sure he’ll ever get back there. This thing with the meds and everything that came with it has really dented him in a very real and lasting way I think. And it’s brought home how fragile he is getting. The Girl is starting to feel better, but is still coughing something fierce. The Boy has started coughing. And my Mom has been dealing with this weird vertigo thing for the last several days as well. I’m feeling fine and that puts me squarely in care taker mode for everyone in the house. I’m happy to do it; I’m well equipped to do it. I’m just tired.

I miss my home and everything that comes with it. So selfishly, I’m ready to let everyone fend for themselves so I can go home and bury myself in my down comforter. Knowing how much my family needs me right now, I’m doing laundry and dishes and cooking my family’s favorite stuff.

And I am coming to terms with the fact that the kids and I don’t get to go anywhere at all this week either. With the added expense of my speeding ticket, we’re seriously strapped until my husband gets paid again next week. So the kids and I are homebound. Which is never a wonderful prospect for any of our sanity. I’m praying for good weather and for the insane amount of wind that showed up today, to dissipate throughout the week. I’m hoping that we can get through this week without much screaming and kicking. I’m hoping that we can all just settle in, relax and have a good week.

And then I re-read this post and think, “jiminy Christmas, could I be throwing myself any further into the future?” Yeah. Time to reel it back in and just be here today. Tired. Worried. Missing my life. Uncomfortable. Ready for some ease. And tired. Did I mention tired? Oh yeah, and brain dead.

4/4/10 - Happy Easter!

2010-04-10T10:36:00.000-06:00

Oh yeah, that’s right, it’s Easter. Happy Easter! I had almost totally forgotten about it. It’s just such a holiday that’s not on my radar really. I’m not religious so it holds little personal meaning for me in that respect and it always creeps up on me. More so this year than most given everything else that’s going on. My mom sent me to the grocery store yesterday (yes, on a Saturday, again, and the Saturday before Easter, so not a good idea) to restock the fridge and get a few things for the kids for an Easter egg hunt this morning. This morning still arrived as a bit of a shock.

My Mom had taken The Boy outside to enjoy the gorgeous morning while I set up the indoor egg hunt and strategically placed their bigger Easter gifts. The Girl woke up lat morning after falling back asleep on the couch and came to me with an egg in hand saying “What this?” She caught on quickly though as she kicked off the hunt with a good head start on her brother. They had a good time.

Dad got up after the hunt was over and was still not doing well, so Mom called the new on call hospice nurse to request a home visit today. Dad moved as little as possible and read the paper. The Girl played with her new Barbie princess and horse and The Boy begged my Mom shamelessly to get started on his new medieval castle herb garden which would require painting. It was a normal Sunday morning except for the pain and discomfort etched across my Dad’s face.

But my Dad has gotten better as the day has gone on, The Girl seems to be fever free although her cough has evolved into a nasty wet thing that needs little provocation, The Boy had a grand time painting and planting his indoor garden. The hospice nurse arrived and took a thorough account of my Dad ending with a long talk about pain management and a declaration that the gout med should be utterly discontinued.

Now it’s on to dinner and sneaking the ears off the kids’ chocolate bunnies.

4/3/10 - Not a Good Day

2010-04-10T10:35:00.001-06:00

My Dad’s doctors decided to start monkeying with his meds and now he is paying a high price for their experimentation. It’s so easy to blame them for his discomfort. It’s so easy to point fingers, especially at hospice, and demand that it be fixed. Because to watch my Dad suffer like he has today is by far the most horrible part yet of this whole process. My Dad has had increasing swelling and pain in his joints, particularly his elbow, knee and ankle joints. After some blood work it was decided that he had gout. Over the past week or so his pain and swelling has been getting really bad and they decided to up the gout medication they had him on. Worst. Decision. Ever.

He could hardly walk today. He was shaking so badly he couldn’t hold a water glass. He was in intense pain and his stomach was screwed beyond belief. He spent most of the day in bed. I spent most of the day shooing the children outside or into my mom’s yoga studio to play and watch TV just to get them out of the house. And worrying. There was lots and lots of worrying.

The Girl is not any better and I knew I should take her far away from my Dad, especially given his sudden turn for the worse. But I could not leave him like this. So I’m staying and keeping my fingers crossed that I don’t compound this by giving him her sickness.

My Mom has been on the phone off and on with the on call hospice nurse all day in amidst sitting with my Dad and getting him to drink as much as possible as they think the shaking and chills are coming from dehydration. I’ve been sitting at the kitchen table mostly, feeling helpless. And feeling that I maybe don’t want to be around for this part. As awful as that confession makes me feel and sound, I don’t know if I can sit and watch him suffer like this as the end draws nearer. And I don’t know if there’s room at his bedside for more than one. I just don’t know.

4/2/10 - Fever Watch

2010-04-10T10:33:00.000-06:00

Yep. The Girl is sick. My mom sent The Boy to get me before the sun was up after The Girl came to get her up with a nasty croupy cough and fever. So in I came and she and I sat in a hot, steamy bathroom for about 30 minutes and then got some prednisone and Motrin into her. By this time she was calm enough to go back to sleep for a bit (Thank God). When I got up the bark was gone from her cough, but she was still not feeling well at all. Which is so not a good thing on a couple of different levels. The first of which is, of course, that I don’t want her to get sick at all. The second is that I can’t have her being sick, especially with a respiratory sickness, around my dad. So we’ll ride out today and if she’s not better by tomorrow, then I’m afraid we’ll have to go home a week early. We’ll just have to wait and see.

I am not entirely sure where she managed to pick up a sickness in the middle of nowhere, but she did. I knew something was coming because her dry, out of whack asthma cough came back a couple of days ago and then before bed she said good night in a hoarse voice. I can spot the croup a mile away and I knew it was coming. But I still hoped it wouldn’t.

So we’ve spent the day watching movies and cuddling. Which is fine by me as I’m just about as tired as The Girl is/should be. And there’s a part of me that is ready to go home. I miss my husband. I miss my bed. I miss the Wi-Fi in my house. I miss my friends. But I’m here to be with my Dad and that’s what I’m trying to do. So if I can get The Girl well in 24 hours we’ll stay. And if nothing else, for the first time in a month a story idea came to me whilst sitting in the dim, wet bathroom early this morning. That is a very good thing.

4/1/10 - Bouncetastic

2010-04-10T10:31:00.000-06:00

I’ve had it up to here with this whole isolation thing. I’m tired of feeling so out of the loop with my world. My friends are spread all over the country as well as all across the city I live in and the internet is the one way that I get to keep in touch with them all. Not having regular access to the internet has left me feeling utterly disconnected. And irritated.

So today I took the children to this place called The Big Bounce. It’s essentially a huge warehouse full of close to a dozen of those big inflatable bounce houses. They have mini golf and their own version of a Build-A-Bear as well. My children love it. The Boy can literally spend hours there doing nothing but moving from group of kids to group of kids; melding into whatever game they may be playing. No matter the age difference. If they are running and jumping and laughing, he’s all for it. The Girl has a bit less use for running than her brother. She’s content to run and jump for a bit, but then she needs activity of a more sophisticated sort. She typically finds this in crashing other people’s birthday parties. Or cozying up to one of the employees with her big blue eyes, corn silk blonde hair, pixie voice and sweet demeanor until they fold and let her tag along with them while they do more interesting things. Inevitably employees or parents will track me down asking if it’s ok if she has a piece of birthday cake or a little snack from behind the desk. She’s shameless.

Me? I try to take advantage of the free Wi-Fi for as long as I can until The Girl’s antics guilt me into corralling the boy back into the car (much to his dismay). Today was a bit shorter than usual however, because The Girl seems to be getting sick. She had very little interest in running or jumping at all and there were no birthday parties to crash. So she spent most of the time on my lap while I furiously tried to catch up on email. Sigh. Not enough time.

3/31/10 - A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius

2010-04-10T10:29:00.001-06:00

I recently finished a new book entitled A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers. It’s a memoir he wrote almost 10 years ago about the time surrounding the deaths of his parents (both from cancer and within 5 weeks of each other) and how he took on the job of raising his younger brother at a relatively young age himself (he was about 22 and his brother was 9). It was a Pulitzer runner up and I’d remembered hearing really good things about it when it originally came out. And given my current proximity to cancer, I thought it might prove a good read. And it was, but I was exhausted by the time I finished it.

It was almost 500 pages of stream of consciousness. Given the fact that I’ve cranked out at least that many pages over the last 16 months of writing this blog, I have a certain affinity for stream of consciousness writing. But this was as if he had, at some point, sat down and in one sitting written the whole thing based on recollection and how his various neuroses happened to color those memories and the people within them. It was beyond raw. It almost felt unedited.

There were definitely pieces that I related to right about now. And there were pieces that just made me roll my eyes. There were pieces that made me laugh out loud as well as tear up. There were even some point where I seriously considered giving up and putting the book down. The writing is lovely and smart. I alternately thought about wanting to have a beer sometime with this author (if for nothing else than to have a voice to put with the words) and wanting to send him a check for therapy.

Altogether, I’m not entirely sure what I think of the book on a whole. While I’m not sure I would ever read it again, I’m very glad that I read it. It was nice to know, once again, that I am not alone in this parental cancer journey. Also? It’s really good to know that I’m not alone in some of my more neurotic/dramatic/silly/morbid thought processes.

3/30/10 - How to Train Your Dragon

2010-04-10T10:27:00.000-06:00

My mom and I took the kids to see How to Train Your Dragon yesterday. It’s a movie that we’ve been looking forward to seeing for a while now. First because we all love dragons, second because it just looked awesome. And it was. In its entirety.

The story was awesome and the moral was a really good one for my kiddos to see – just believe in yourself and that faith alone will bring you where you want to go. And yes, it’s an animated movie so it can’t show all the trials and tribulations people run across when following your heart’s path, but it didn’t spoon feed them a fairy tale either. It struck a nice balance, moral wise.

The animation was lovely. Especially in the dragons. They created all of these different dragons each with their own personalities and attack strategies. And yes, they were a bit goofy, because you know, they couldn’t very well create big scary dragons because it’s for kids. The dragons they had scared The Girl enough as it was. I’d hate to see what they would have come up with given more freedom to roam towards “realism.”

The main characters, Hiccup the Viking lad and Toothless the Night Fury dragon, were by far the best part about the whole movie. Hiccup is funny, sarcastic and smart. He’s also a pitiful physical specimen for a Viking. But still, awesome in spades. Toothless is of the most feared variety of dragon. He has this amazing lightening fire breath and is almost impossible to see at night. He’s so fast you can hardly see him. And, he has retractable teeth, hence his name. Also? He has the best facial expressions. And apparently a better understanding of human nature than most humans. If Hiccup teaches Toothless a bit about trust, then Toothless teaches Hiccup everything else.

The cherry on the top of the movie however, was getting to listen to Gerard Butler and Craig Ferguson unveil their Scottish brogue in all of its glory for 90 minutes. I was in heaven; smiling at every rolled “r”.

The Boy gave it a resounding thumbs up. The dragons scared The Girl. I loved it.

3/29/10 - Caretaker

2010-04-01T16:24:00.000-06:00

I’m a caretaker. I always have been. For as long as I can remember I am always the first to wonder if someone is ok if I see them hurting, no matter if I know them or not. I latch onto babies because I know that they need to be taken care of. I’m just a care taker. Which is a good thing considering the rigors my children have put me through. If I weren’t a natural born care taker, they’d be hurtin’ kiddos right about now. There was a part of me that thought once upon a time that being a caretaker made me weak in some way. That the act of caretaking surrendered my power to the person I was taking care of; that by putting myself at their disposal that I was somehow expressing codependence instead of the inherent strength it takes to honestly put someone else before yourself.

Now I know that was all bullshit of course. I embrace my caretaking abilities on a daily basis. And it turns out to be an extraordinarily good thing when you have one parent have a massive heart attack one day, move in with you to recuperate for 3 weeks another day and then six months later have the other parent diagnosed with end stage lung cancer.

So here I am, taking care of my Dad. By cooking all of his favorite food for him while he still has an appetite and wants to eat. By doing things around the house to make his life easier. By helping to keep track of meds and new symptoms to tell the hospice nurse. All of these everyday things that seem so simple but are the best way I know how to take care of him right now. Because all of these things still allow me to be his daughter whilst doing them. Despite my caretaking proclivities, I have no desire to morph into a full time nurse to my father. I just want to be his daughter. Love him as his daughter. Support him as his daughter. It’s a delicate balance to strike to be sure. But I hope I’m at least in its general vicinity.

3/28/10 - Love and Birthday Presents

2010-04-01T16:03:00.001-06:00

I adore all of my friends’ children. They are amazing, adorable little creatures (some not so little anymore) that I immediately love on sight because of my attachment to their parents. But there are a couple that I just really love. Like my own love. Maybe because I’m particularly close to their parents or because the kiddos and I have forged a special bond of our own. Whatever the cause, one of those babies is turning two this upcoming week. And here’s the kicker, he’s only about 3 hours away from my parents’ house. His birthday party was yesterday and I seriously considered driving down to crash the party, but couldn’t quite eek the gas money out of our budget. And it would have had me driving home around midnight. Which given my proclivity for falling asleep anytime I sit still for more than a handful of minutes right now, I didn’t think would be such a great set up.

So instead my mom, the kids and I went to this awesome toy store we discovered several years ago in Durango. It’s just a super cool, laid back, locally owned kind of toy store with super cool toys stacked deep and piled high everywhere you look. There are train tracks out for the kids to play with and blocks and any number of other fun things. And, there’s a cat. Very possibly the sweetest cat ever (as she would have to be to live in a toy store where she is constantly being stalked and pounced upon by over excited children of all ages). So between the toys and the cat, my kids were in hog heaven. And my mom reached back into her childhood and I could hear her giggling from the front of the store over the bin of windup toys she had found.

I found my sweet, little guy C some awesome puzzles to challenge his already genius level mind as well as a huge book of stickers to carry on the new infatuation that The Girl started with him over Christmas. C’s mom will probably want to kill me for the latter present, but all’s fair in love and birthday presents.

3/27/10 - Grocery Store Madness

2010-04-01T15:50:00.001-06:00

Grocery shopping. On a Saturday. It’s just something I would ever recommend. Growing up, we went to the grocery store every Sunday morning like clockwork. We went relatively early so that we always got the best selection of doughnuts and rolls in the bakery and so that we were home in time to get everything put away and have time to sit and watch Dr. Who. It was an unbreakable routine and one of my most vivid childhood memories. I thought for a while that I’d like to re-create that with my own kids on the weekend. But then I find myself in the grocery store on a Saturday or Sunday and I remember why I abandoned that particular idea so long ago. It’s madness. Sheer and utter madness to take two children into the grocery store on a Saturday.

On the weekdays, people are still people in the grocery store. They say “excuse me” they smile when you pass them in especially tight aisles. They help you reach something if you need it. But on the weekends? Those same people turn into steel plated automatons in pursuit of one thing and one thing only – completing their list so as to get the hell out of the grocery store and but quick. It seems like the only facial expressions they are capable of are those that make my children cower and make me want to deck them for being flat rude to two over rambunctious but well meaning children. And I’m sorry, but there’s no Safeway in the world that makes doughnuts good enough to weather that on a regular basis.

No, I think I’ll stick to my well established routine of going grocery shopping in the middle of the week. Even though the store seems to run on a seriously reduced staff forcing me to walk its entirety should I have a question. Even though I often have to push my full cart into the only open checker which happens to be an “Express Lane.” Yep, I’ll take a bit of wincing at having well over 15 items to save myself from the steely glare of those in search of paper thin sliced turkey.

100 Things, Part Two

2010-03-26T16:11:00.000-06:00

It’s cold and rainy here today, so I thought it would be a good day for dreaming. And it was, although it seems like this list is a bit more coupled than the previous one, i.e. two points having to do with travel, two points having to do with writing, with the kids, etc. It’s interesting how this stuff comes to me. I’m writing in the library today, so my first thoughts had everything to do with books and writing. But eventually spread out to my two favorite dream topics – travel and food. It’s been a trying day, so this was a good exercise in letting it all go in favor of focusing on the happy, the jubilant, the everything there is to look forward to.

26. Read at least one “classic” book every three months
27. Go on a girl’s getaway retreat every year
28. Have cats
29. Have the time to go through every part of The Louvre without rushing
30. Have house plants
31. Figure out how to grow a huge herb garden inside so I always have fresh herbs
32. Become fluent in German again
33. Learn Brazilian Portuguese
33. Always have fresh cut flowers in the house
34. Go to SouthxSouthwest
35. Make my children laugh every single day
36. Go on a driving tour of the Pacific Northwest for our 10 year wedding anniversary
37. Figure out how to paint my own toenails whilst pregnant
38. Adopt a baby
39. Have a dedicated space to write that is chock full of all my favorite things
40. Find the perfect BBQ
41. Learn how to make the best fried chicken
42. Write a story about dragons
43. Go into space
44. Find a way to finance a trip to document the origins and best comfort food in the world for a book
45. Go back to Nebraska every year to visit family
46. Cook with the children as much as possible
47. Go on a trip entirely of my husband’s design
48. Start a children’s museum
49. Find a fly fishing mentor for The Boy after his Papa is gone
50. Own a car with flames painted on the sides

3/25/10 - Gentle Day

2010-03-26T15:48:00.000-06:00

I got to meet my Dad’s hospice nurse today. I’d talked to her on the phone a few weeks ago, but it was nice to put a face with the name. She’s super sweet and genuinely seems to like my Dad and vice versa. It was interesting to watch them talk and see everything that she keeps track of. I really had no idea what to expect. But she took all his vitals, counted out his meds to see what needed to be re-ordered and talked to him for quite a while about his pain levels and just in general how he was doing. It was nice to watch someone with him whose entire reason for being here was to support him. To do anything and everything she could to make and keep him comfortable and see that his needs were being met. There was no distraction or agenda; she was fully and completely here with him while she was here. It made me happy to see and it was also nice to get an objective evaluation of how he is doing. Because it’s really easy to get dragged down into the daily pill monitoring, the ever vigilant watching of his every wince and sigh, wondering when his body will finish this betrayal it has perpetuated upon him and everyone who loves him. It’s easy to allow yourself to sink into the drama and trauma of the whole thing, to lose perspective. So a dose of objectivity does wonders for tempering what the mind will talk you into.

And I think if I can pry The Girl out of her favorite princess nightgown, that will one day soon be permanently melded to her skin, I might take the kiddos into town for a little treat this afternoon since Dad is taking a nap and I’d like to get them away from the TV. I’ve spent the majority of the day making my Mom CD’s, catching up on writing and writing Easter/thank you cards to The Sisters and my cousin D for their lovely trip here. It’s been a nice easy day. The sun is out, the wind isn’t blowing. It feels like a gentle day.

3/24/10 - Growth Spurt

2010-03-26T15:47:00.001-06:00

There must be twins in there. Good God. I’m now 10 weeks along and I am officially out of all my regular pants. Even my great big jeans that I typically cannot wear without a tightly cinched belt are too tight. I am noticeably showing which I think shocks me more than anything because I’m not a small woman. So it typically takes me a bit longer to really look pregnant instead of just “fluffy” around the middle. But there is a bump. Staring back at me in the mirror. Making my shirts poke out in strange ways and buttoning my jeans make me gasp for breath.

And I’m still feeling pretty good. Although I think I can tell when this kid is going through growth spurts because there is a marked change in my appetite and level of fatigue. I mean, I’m pretty much tired all the time, don’t get me wrong, but the last day or so I’m falling asleep if I sit still for longer than 2 minutes. And things go downhill fast if I don’t eat the minute I notice I’m hungry. Like break out in a cold sweat, come close to fainting in the middle of Target, shaking violently downhill.

It’s a strange limbo though. There is a part of me that knows that I’m pregnant, that is still doing cartwheels with excitement. And then there is the part of me that is so wrapped up here with my kids and my Dad that I keep forgetting there’s a little bean in there and that yes, it’s entirely appropriate for me to eat several times a day and that I must remember to drink more water. But ultimately it just adds a nice shining light to the overall peace I’m in right now. Which is definitely a big bonus to be sure. I know that the peace I’m so grateful for right now could shift at any moment if I let it. Could easily be eaten again by anger or impatience. So I’m hoping between the two that perhaps they can support each other, give each other strength and perseverance. To keep growing and blossoming in their own gorgeous ways.

3/23/10 - Gratitude for Acceptance

2010-03-26T15:46:00.001-06:00

What a lovely day. My Mom took the kids for some good old fashioned Nana/grandchildren quality time and I spent the day with my Dad. I had to follow him into town so that he could drop his truck off to get the brakes fixed (finally!). But mostly we just spent the day alternately chatting and reading. We talked about all sorts of stuff from fluffy chitchat stuff to how the kids were doing with the new knowledge of his impending death to how he was doing with his impending death. It was such a lovely day. And it was a day that I could not have had with him even a month ago.

I think I had to go away for a couple of months to do my own work. To trudge through the deep anger I had. To make peace with the denial and fear of facing my life and the world without my Dad. Now I am able to sit with him, as his daughter, and talk or just be in silence. And I cannot tell you what that means to me. After 33 years, there is finally peace in our relationship. There is understanding, love and acceptance for who we both are and what we had to experience to get here. I mean, I’ve always been a Daddy’s girl. Even when I was so angry at him I could hardly see straight, I was a Daddy’s girl. But through the internal work we have both done over the past couple of months, our relationship has reached a new level.

There is a tremendous amount of freedom in this acceptance. Freedom to cry at the beauty of his life and all that he’s given. Freedom to celebrate this man who played such a gigantic role in shaping who I am and who my children are. Freedom to laugh as things arise regardless of how irreverent or inappropriate that laughter may be and because we’d both rather laugh than cry. And while I would do almost anything to be able to take this revelation far into the future with my Dad, I plan on making every single second I have with him count.

3/22/10 - Isolation

2010-03-26T15:44:00.000-06:00

The Sisters (and cousin) headed back to the airport this morning. And I was once more thrust into my least favorite thing about being at my parents’ house. The isolation. They don’t have any internet access at all, often lose phone service due to wind/rain/general crappy weather conditions and I’m at least 30 minutes from any semblance of civilization. At least civilization that does not include the savagely overpriced convenience stores meant for tourists that are but a short car jog from my parents’ house.

I mean, it’s nice for the kids. They love being able to be in the middle of nowhere. Able to run freely, scream without limits and discover new bugs, sticks and other sundry valuables. And for them, I love it here. And for my Dad, as this is where his true spirit resides. In the rocks and bluffs, in the scrub brush and cottonwood trees, and above all else, in the river. But I deeply value my daily connections with people, even when those connections are often only online. I miss the odd wave and hello with our neighbors. I miss the sweet phone calls from friends just calling to check in. I miss IM’ing with friends I hardly ever get to see. I just miss the connections. When I’m here keeping up with those connections not only is inconvenient, it also feels wholly selfish for some reason. Perhaps because I have to take such a large chunk of time away from my Dad to go into town to touch base with those connections. Perhaps because I have to continually hush my children in the library while I’m checking in with those connections. Perhaps because it is selfish. But at the same time I feel like I have to be able to give myself permission to be selfish in this way, because it is these connections who have helped me find my way away from the anger and denial and into acceptance. So that I can be here with my Dad and truly just be here, in whatever capacity he needs me. And that is, truly, such a gift. Perhaps what feels selfish is just me taking care of me.

3/21/10 - Solace in Baking

2010-03-26T15:43:00.001-06:00

I went cooking and baking crazy today. I was all twitchy today because my dad took my children for a walk to tell them he was dying. He and I had talked about the best way to break it to them, to start that conversation with them. I mean, I had started the general death conversation with The Boy already, but had not applied any of that to my Dad as of yet. And today, my Dad did exactly that.

The Girl took it all in stride of course. I think she’s still close enough to that other side for it not to frighten her or make her feel like she’ll be really losing anything. The Boy, however, had a rough afternoon. I wish more than anything that my husband had been here because The Boy latched onto my cousin D (him being the only other man here besides my Dad) and took him into a conversation I’m not at all sure D was prepared for, especially with a kid he had known for about 2 days. But they both did great. I just watched from the kitchen door in between mixing, measuring and chopping.

It was not an easy thing for my Dad either, but he did a beautiful job with it and was able to hold it together for his grandchildren. I am pretty sure I would not have been able to do that. In fact, I was not able to really hold it together much so I buried my face in lemon bars and angel food cake cookies. Potato Salad and Cole Slaw. I have never been so grateful to have such a hoard to feed with all the family here.

Thankfully tonight Aunt T set down with Dad for another round of interrogation that ended with the best story yet of how my Dad talked his high school biology teacher into letting him perform surgical procedures on a rat, namely removing one of its kidneys. Which he then had to take home for the summer as his personal charge. He hid the animal in the garage only to be summoned one day by my Grandma’s ear splitting scream. Best. Story. Ever.

3/20/10 - Let the Storytelling Begin

2010-03-26T15:42:00.001-06:00

My Aunt T and Aunt S spent about three hours interviewing my dad tonight while my Aunt J videotaped the whole thing. So many stories and memories now forever committed to the teeny, tiny DVD in our video camera. She asked him about everything from childhood memories, to fly fishing, to how many times he actually got in trouble with his mom and dad, to his best field foraging exploits. Stories dating back to the very beginning of my Dad’s memories. Inciting laughter and jeers from his sisters he held us all captive as he rolled from one story to the next, urged on by Aunt T’s questions and prodding. It was such a lovely evening. I can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed as much as I have tonight and all through the day.

I adore these women and I cannot put into words how grateful I am that they are here. I have two Aunt S’s, bookending these siblings. I’ve never really gotten to know the oldest, she’s 4 years older than my dad and never really went out of her way to be nice to me. So unless I was thrown into the same room with her, I just sort of ignored her. But today I’ve spent more time talking to her than the rest of my life put together. And she’s really funny and smart and sweet. She and my dad really renewed their relationship before my Grandma died. Aunt S runs the nursing home that my Grandma was in and my dad, being the second oldest, really stayed in close contact with her to help make decisions and such. And it’s been nice to see that relationship in action. There’s a really wonderful mutual respect there on top of all the shared history and brother/sister foundations. And it’s been fun to hear snippets of the family history from before my dad’s memory as well. Interesting to hear stories from a different perspective, from the first born.

And it’s given me some nice insight as well to see what stories my aunts want to hear versus the stories I’ve been asking for. It’s just such a gift to have them here.

3/19/10 - Sisters in the House!

2010-03-26T15:40:00.001-06:00

My Dad’s five sisters and my cousin arrived today. This is an event that everyone has been a bit nervous about I think. For just about every reason you can think of. Families always have baggage, no matter their size, but this one has about as much as its size can carry. I think at the core of the worry is that that baggage will outweigh the fact that they are family. And it’s a worthwhile worry, to be honest. But one I hope can get set aside. And so far it has been, thank goodness.

I scraped together some homemade chicken noodle soup for everyone after they arrived and even though it took everyone awhile to find their conversational footing, I think it’s all going to work out just fine. For my part, I cannot even begin to put into words how lovely it was to see all of them. Except for Aunt T, I haven’t seen the rest of them since Grandma’s funeral, which was five years ago. And so much has happened for everyone since then. Some of them have become grandmothers for the first time, some for the second or third. My cousin has gotten married. Some have changed jobs or moved or had other big life changes. And there is simply the passage of time for us all.

Even though these women were not always home and comfort for me, they are now. There was a time when my Grandmother had to force these women to be nice to me under her fury. But over the years, we’ve all softened to each other and realized the depth of our family is stronger than any misled and misguided grudge that may have existed once upon a time. Which is a good thing. Because if ever there was a time to come together, it’s now. In the face of my father’s, and their oldest brother’s, death. Now is the time for telling stories, remembering growing up together in the countryside of Nebraska, loved so very dearly by two amazing parents.

And I’ll be cooking my ass off, so at least I’ll be busy should things go to hell and a hand basket.

3/18/10 - New Mexico at Last!

2010-03-26T15:39:00.000-06:00

So, we made it to New Mexico, finally. The kids and I left today and arrived with no trouble and almost no delay to my parents’ house this evening. We had gorgeous, if windy, weather the entire way and the kids mostly listened to the audio book instead of driving me crazy with questions like “Are we there yet?” and “How much longer until we get there?” There were only a couple of dozen of those questions interspersed throughout the 6 hour drive. So I wasn’t entirely screaming, head spinning crazy by the time we arrived.

Not having a speedometer finally caught up with me however. I was so into the story we were listening to and how gorgeous the day was that I sort of lost track of the little tricks I have been using to check my speed. Well and the fact that it is a Thursday and there were hardly any cars on the road by which to gauge my speed. Except for the cop car. The totally nondescript, gray cop car with its lights hidden. Yeah. That one. And that one noticed that I was going quite a bit faster than I should have been, unfortunately. He pulled me over in Fort Garland and to tell you the truth, I was fairly astonished, that’s how little I was paying attention. When he told me how fast I was going all I could do was say “I’m so sorry! My speedometer is broken and I have no idea how fast I’m going, I was trying to keep track with my RPM’s, but obviously my system still needs work. I’m so sorry!!”

He looked at me with a bit of doubt, asked for my license, registration and proof of insurance and went back to his car. Where he stayed for about 20 minutes. When he returned with my ticket, he had taken pity upon me and knocked about 14 mph off the ticket and with a smirk told me I should probably get my speedometer fixed. I told him I would do it as soon as I could come up with the $600. He smiled again and wished me safe, and slow, travels.

The Price of Raw

2010-03-17T22:15:00.001-06:00

When I started this blog a little over a year ago, I never really thought anyone would read it. Or at the very most I thought I’d have a few consistent readers, you know, people like my mom, maybe friends who I don’t get to see very often (and I was pretty much right). But that’s about it. I mean who wants to stick around for a 365-word-a-day snapshot of one woman’s life, regardless of how colorful her language is. I wasn’t doing it so that it would get read. I was doing it so that I could make myself write every day. It was just about the writing. It also turned out to be an incredible outlet for me during the hardest year of my life. A way to process an incredibly complicated and painful time of my life that simply could not be overlooked.

Probably the most consistent piece of feedback I’ve gotten on this blog is that it is raw. The emotions, the language, the situations. All of it is raw. And I’ve been called courageous and inspiring for being willing to air that rawness to the outside world. Now, I don’t know how courageous or inspirational I am, but I do know that raw was (is?) the only way for me to be. There’s just been too much to polish. Too much to try to hide or shirk or simplify.

For the most part, I’ve not let myself get too bogged down in worrying about what I put out there. Because as I said, I am not writing it because I need people to read it. So why should I give a shit what they think of it? And I don’t. Except for today I got dealt a sucker punch to the gut. Today I got handed down a sweeping judgment of myself, my life and my family. And it came in large part because of what I write here. Amidst the adrenaline fueled anger that I’ve been feeling all day, is also a deep sadness. Sadness that through everything I’ve written, expressed and learned over the last 15 months, that all they gleaned from it was a chance to judge.

100 Things, Part One

2010-03-16T19:21:00.001-06:00

Ok, so I decided to copy cat L’s idea and come up with my own list of 100 things I want to do in my life. And she was right it’s really hard! Although once I let myself distinguish between goals and dreams, it got a bit easier. Because I got all serious and started out by thinking that the whole list had to be goals. Things I wanted, and needed, to accomplish in my lifetime. But I think the whole purpose is to let yourself just dream and think about all the things you’ve always wanted to do, without constraint or judgment. And that made it a bit easier, but it’s still hard. Like I said yesterday, I think my dreamer is rusty. It’s just been so long since I just let myself daydream. Because while it’s good for the soul, it can also be dangerous. So as with everything else, it’s about balance. Learning how to dream without getting attached to the dreams. Or more specifically, without attaching expectations to the dream. Because it’s always the expectations that get me in trouble.

So, without further ado, here’s my first 25 to start with:
1. Write and publish a book
2. Only wear clothes that I love everyday
3. Get Lasik surgery so I don’t have to wear glasses anymore!
4. Take my family to Europe
5. Go white water river rafting
6. Swim with dolphins
7. Learn how to make perfect pad thai
8. Get scrapbooks for the kids done through their childhoods
9. Adopt a Greyhound
10. Live by the ocean
11. Become a bone marrow donor
12. Go on Wheel of Fortune
13. See the Colts (with Peyton Manning as QB) play in person
14. Find the perfect shade of lipstick
15. Have a hot stone massage
16. Teach the kids how to batik
17. Go whale watching
18. Get all gussied up for and go to a red carpet event
19. Go to a strawberry festival
20. Re-learn how to make perfect tortillas
21. Learn how to walk in stiletto heels
22. Go on a ghost tour
23. Learn how to sew
24. Have horses again
25. Find a muse

Inspiration

2010-03-15T14:46:00.001-06:00

I have a good friend here who is one of the most extraordinary women I know. She is the least afraid person I know. She decides what she wants and then she just flat makes it happen. She and her husband decided they wanted to live in an RV and take their two kids on the road. They’ve been talking about it for a while, but recently the just decided to make it happen. And the most incredible thing about it is that they did. They just made it happen. And I am in awe of their ability to do so.

My husband and I have been talking for years about the things we want to do, with and without the kids. But here we still are, in Colorado Springs, him working a job he’s very good at but does not love, me trying to figure out to be writer and struggling, and both of us trying to figure out how to juggle being the parents we want to be with “real” life. And I think what I love so much about L and her husband, is that for them, there is no “real” life. There is simply the life they create. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t, but regardless they consciously chose it and live so completely present in every single moment of that choice that it no longer matters if it works or not.

She has this amazing list on her new blog of 100 things she wants to do in her life. And I love it. Because it’s not all “climb Mt. Everest” or “go to cooking school” or other huge things. There are also things in there like, “get a facial” and “wear blue contacts” and have a pet turtle.” I just love it. And it’s incredibly inspiring. So I think I’ll get to work on my own 100 Things I want to do list. I’ve been so completely rooted in every day, which is a good thing, that I’ve forgotten a bit about letting myself dream, which is not a good thing. And I’ve lost some of my internal inspiration along the way. It’s time to get it back.

3/14/10 - Daylight Savings Time

2010-03-15T14:28:00.002-06:00

I despise daylight savings time. Truly abhor it. It was easier to sort of ignore its existence when I was younger or even just before I had kids. Now however, it totally screws up everything. Does it make it a bit easier for the kids when it occurs on a weekend (does it always occur on a weekend?). But it seriously messes with me. Because weekends are when I get to sleep in. So I let myself stay up later. Especially when I’m totally sucked into a book and I just do not want to put it down, thinking I’ve got another hour or so to read before it’s just too late because I’m pregnant and always tired anyway. And then I remember that because of the time change, it’s actually already too late and I need to get my happy ass to bed. So yeah, I stayed up too late, way too late. In fact I fell asleep on the couch, awoke at 3am and after peeling my drool pasted cheek from the pages of said book, wondered why I wasn’t in my bed.

All of this with me thinking, well it is Saturday night. Even if I do stay up too late, I’ll be able to sleep in tomorrow and catch up. Except for frigging daylight savings time stole an hour from me. Forcing me to get up well before I was ready because it’s just not decent for a mother of two to still be in bed at 10am (especially when it’s actually 11am). The Boy looked at me like I was on crack when 7pm rolled around and I said it was time for bed because his internal clock ain’t no dummy and told him it was too early to go to sleep.

I mean, yes, we get more light in the afternoons. But I find it far more depressing to wake up when it’s still dark than I do to be eating dinner in the dark. I know that will change in a couple of months, but I’d rather just let time alone and have light when we have it than do this time tug-of-war every fall and spring. Seriously.

3/13/10 - The Outlander

2010-03-15T14:11:00.000-06:00

I picked up The Outlander by Diana Gabaldon at the library yesterday – a bit on a whim. I remembered a few friends talking about it not too long ago and I walked by it as I was looking for more Neil Gaiman books and it just caught my eye. I didn’t really have any idea what it was about or if it was my kind of book or not, but I added it to the pile anyway. And I picked it up today and now I cannot seem to put it down. It was shelved in the science fiction section and other than the whole time travel aspect; it’s really more of a historical romance than sci-fi in my opinion.

What I’ve found has drawn me in is her writing and the characters. I like how boldly she writes and I love her female lead character because she’s a spitfire with the intellect to back it up. It seems so much of the time that female writers focus on writing the perfect male character in these sorts of stories. The perfectly romantic, strong, intelligent man who can always come to the rescue at the perfect time and make you feel safe while at the same time making you feel all twitter pated and breathless. And then they ignore the woman almost altogether or else allow her to fall into the damsel in distress stereotype. Which really irritates me. Because why would a perfect man want to wimp for a woman? Seriously?!

But Gabaldon doesn’t do that. The man is not perfect. He is gorgeous and smart of course, but nowhere near perfect. While the woman is strong, confident, courageous and cusses like a sailor. And so far, their relationship is not of a codependent, eye rolling variety. Which is a nice change of pace, I must admit.

I will be interested to see where she takes the story, because right now she’s kind of treading water and I’m ready for it to go somewhere. But her writing has me hooked enough that I know I’ll be up way too late tonight. Not to mention that I cannot seem to stop thinking in a Scottish accent.

3/12/10 - Watch Duty

2010-03-15T13:56:00.000-06:00

My husband took the day off today to spend some time with us before we leave for a month or so and it turned into an incredibly busy day. I took the opportunity for some alone time to go get my prenatal lab work done without having to juggle children whilst peeing in a cup or having needles stuck in me. Then we headed to Pueblo to see a dear friend who just started work at the main library up there and get some books and audio books for the trip. I’m here to tell you that the Rawlings Library in Pueblo is far superior to all of the Pikes Peak Libraries combined. Their kid section is amazing both in books and activities and the general layout of the place is just lovely. So since it’s only about 10 minutes further than the big downtown library in Colorado Springs (which is lame) we’ll be going there for now on. Plus whenever we go there, I get to see M! That right there makes it all worth it.

So we are now equipped with new books all around and I got us Eragon by Christopher Paolini to listen to in the car. It will be a bit on the old side for The Girl, but it’s all about dragons, so I think she’ll still dig it and it’s a book I’ll even want to listen to, so hopefully when we’re actually able to leave, it will make the trip to NM feel much shorter.

And all I want to do right now is eat. It’s just crazy. I have never been this continuously hungry in my entire life. I never thought I would say that I was tired of eating, but I really, really am. Mostly I think I’m so tired of it because even though I’m having monolithic sized cravings, nothing actually tastes good when I put it in my mouth. I do one or two bites and then I want to vomit. So mostly, I’m just hungry. All. The. Time. Which tends to set you on edge just a wee bit.

So I’m on weather, sickness and food watch presently. I know, you’re jealous.

Heartbreak

2010-03-11T19:52:00.001-07:00

So The Girl took the weather delay as a cue and spiked another fever last night. After being on antibiotics for three days. I took her back to the doctor this morning and she changed the antibiotic to something stronger and more broad spectrum. Although we’re both starting to think that this sucker is viral. Which really bites, because that means we just have to wait for it to pass. And it’s been a week now. So even though it scared the crap out of me, I tried a different tactic this afternoon and did not treat her fever. I thought maybe that if it got high enough it would burn itself out. It topped out at 103.5, which is .1 below the temperature she had a seizure at so I was terrified, but it eventually started coming down a little. When we just put her to bed it was down to 102.3. Who knows if there’s anything to my theory or not. I just know I’m ready for her to be done with this now. She is so completely miserable and it just breaks my heart to watch her feel so punk.

Also today, I found out a good friend of mine from college has been missing since Tuesday. And that is such a “those things don’t happen to me or people I know” kind of thing. I mean she’s always been a crazy girl, but never the disappear and not at least check in with her family kind of crazy. I’m just hoping against hope that she’s safe and sound somewhere but out of cell phone range. Or maybe a new boyfriend whisked her away on a surprise vacation and forgot to tell her family. I’m hoping that she is not in trouble or in pain somewhere scared out of her wits praying to be rescued. It’s a scary thing and it breaks my heart to think about.

So it seems that my heart is breaking in all sorts of ways today. Heart break and worry abound today it appears. So join me in asking the powers that be to get my daughter well quickly and to protect J and keep her safe.

Travel Plans and Reminders

2010-03-10T17:17:00.002-07:00

Our trip to NM has been delayed yet again. This time by weather. My parents got a big snowstorm last night and it appears that same storm is on its way here as our sunny day deteriorated into flurries and freezing temps. So now I’m shooting for a Saturday departure. It’s supposed to warm up again by Friday so a day of sun should give the passes time to melt and return to asphalt. Plus it gives me more time to finish laundry, get audio books and pack. As well as letting The Boy finish out the week of school since he’ll be missing two weeks of school which makes me a little nervous. And hopefully The Girl will go to school again tomorrow morning. I say hopefully because her eye is red and now I’m all paranoid about her having pink eye after her teacher made a huge deal out of it.

And this whole, “we’re having another baby” thing is now really real. Not that it hasn’t been. But with my OB appointment yesterday, we officially let the cat out of the bag and have been spreading the good news far and wide. Now that people know, it gives the whole thing a bit more of a tangible feel. Well that and the fact that I’m sitting here in maternity pants because my burgeoning belly is sizing me out of almost all of my pants.

After thinking about it for a while, the best thing about going to see my OB yesterday was that she was excited with me, chatty and did not even once mention my weight. I gained some weight over the holidays what with all the cooking I was doing for my dad and then I got knocked up before I could get it off again. So I’m starting this pregnancy a bit heavier than I’d like. But not once did my doctor say anything about that. Reminding me that she trusts my body to gain whatever weight it needs to grow a healthy baby. Reminding me that what’s important here is the new little fuzzhead that will be joining our family, not what size I am. I needed that.

Good News to Share!

2010-03-09T19:10:00.001-07:00

I’ve got some good news to share, finally. I am pregnant! I had my first OB appointment today and everything is where it should be and looking perfectly healthy, happy and on track. Although my doctor got my heart beating a bit when she wanted to do an ultrasound immediately following my exam because she thought I might have twins in there. But there’s just the one little bean, that we could see anyway. She said that it was possible there was another bean hiding behind the first one, but she didn’t think so. We’ll know for certain as I get farther along I suppose. I’m due mid-October, which I’m not exactly sure why I thought was a good idea. Since I swore that I would never, ever do my third trimester in the middle of summer after The Boy. And here I am, doing it again. But I’m keeping my fingers crossed for a cool summer, or for my husband to get a raise so that we can afford me to have the air conditioning running full tilt for three solid months.

Speaking of my husband, he’s ecstatic. He would have been telling people several weeks ago if I’d have let him. He’s convinced it’s a boy and he’s already got the kid named. I keep trying to tell him that it doesn’t even know what it is yet. But he doesn’t seem to care.

I think we will wait until I’m showing a bit to tell the kids so they have something more tangible to focus on. Although I think that will probably be sooner rather than later with this one as every single pair of my pants are already uncomfortably tight, which is mildly infuriating. But at least I get to change up my wardrobe now. Granted, it’s with the introduction of maternity clothes, but still, they are clothes I haven’t worn in almost 4 years.

And I’m excited. Really excited. Thrilled that it finally happened before I lost my dad. Thrilled at the prospect of a new little person entering our family. Just keeping my fingers crossed for a healthy baby and an easy pregnancy. Cross yours with me, would you?

3/8/10 - Fever on the Run

2010-03-09T18:59:00.001-07:00

Ok, so an ear infection is the culprit. Our pediatrician gave The Girl a thorough going over and she checked out totally healthy except for the fact that one of her ears was flaming red and unhappy. So she’ll be on antibiotics for about 10 days and then we should be done. I think probably the fever will be broken for good when she wakes up the in the morning. Which means the plan for right now is to get the kids and me down to New Mexico by Thursday. That is about a week and half earlier than I had originally planned, which means taking them out of school, but it’ll be ok. I think The Boy is more than ready for a break anyway, although little does he know that I’m having his teacher put together a whopping packet of homework for him to work on while he’s gone. Hopefully that will keep the rust off his brain.

And my sweet friend P made us dinner tonight! How cool is that? To make an awesome surprise even better, she made her famous chicken and quinoa with an awesome spinach salad and a chocolate cake. I was in heaven. Seriously, P, you rock the casbah.

So now I’m in get ready to leave my house for a month mode. Which means finishing and returning library books. Getting new child-friendly audio books to listen to on the drive. Getting everyone’s laundry done so we have clean clothes to wear. Pulling any recipes I may want to make while I’m down there. All of the stuff that makes me feel just a little bit better about leaving my life here for a month, or more.

And, if you read my 52 in 52 blog, you will have noticed that I’m quickly falling behind. I am sorry; I’ve just got nothing right now. I think I’m in such a state of overload with everything going on right now that my creative juices are pulling a deer in headlights move. I’ll catch up soon though and get back on track, I promise. In the meantime, if you have any story ideas to share, I’d love to hear them.

Going with the Flow

2010-03-07T12:29:00.000-07:00

Day three of fever watch with The Girl. Yeah, I’m done with it now. She woke up at about 2am last night throwing up and her fever had started to soar. So my husband spent the rest of the night on the floor of her bedroom while I tossed and turned, convinced that every single noise was her seizing or throwing up.

Her temperature has continued to volley around, keeping us all on our toes. The Girl goes from relatively cool one minute and almost back to herself to screaming hot and listless the next. And more than anything that’s what has me worried. Because it’s the rapid rise of fever that causes febrile seizures, not necessarily how high it goes. And her fever is all over the place, rising and falling pretty rapidly. When The Boy had this it only lasted about 24 hours, so I thought we’d definitely be in the clear with The Girl by yesterday afternoon. Not so much apparently.

So, now I’m tired and still no closer to getting down to NM. I’m so scared that by the time we finally get down there that my dad won’t be my kids’ Papa anymore. He’ll be just a physical shell of the man they adore and look up to. I don’t want them to remember him that way, frail and dissipated. I want The Boy to remember tying flies and learning about nature. I want The Girl to remember reading stories and seeing the beauty of the desert through her Papa’s eyes. And perhaps I’m over-reacting, but the picture my mom has painted of my dad’s current state is not a pretty one. Even if it does change on a daily basis.

So I suppose this post is more of a vent than anything purposeful. I’m tired and scared and frustrated. I’m doing my best to just go with the flow and be as present as possible. I’m just tired of feeling like the flow is always going against me. That me going with the flow actually means just accepting that life is just hard right now. That the flow means learning to accept the fear and anger in the present.

3/6/10 - Anger

2010-03-07T11:46:00.001-07:00

I think that anger takes two basic forms. Those which are situational, the “I can’t believe you just did that to me!” types of anger. More like bursts of fury. They fade relatively quickly and usually don’t have much to do with anything except the offending person or thing.

Then there is the anger that is rooted in who we are. Rooted somewhere deep enough that it can’t be so easily let go of or dismissed. Rooted somewhere solid enough that it takes years maybe even a lifetime to be able to put it down and direct our energy into something more positive.

And I’ve been going round and round with the latter as of late. There is this anger that is rooted in my childhood. That is connected to my parents and that has been flying in my face as of late in response to the fact that my father is dying and everything that comes with that. You would think that the hardest part would be the issues related directly to my dad. Those that come from the fact that he was gone for a lot of my early childhood. Those that come from the fact that he’s not an emotionally ebullient man and always left me guessing as to my place in his heart. Those that come from the fact that he had exceptionally high expectations for me that I struggled, and often failed, to meet.

But instead, and probably harder than all of those combined, the anger that is arising is with my mother. Perhaps that’s because she’ll still be here and is therefore the safer candidate at which to vent anger. Or perhaps, losing my father is just opening the floodgates to that deeply seated anger that has been dormant for so long. I don’t know. What I do know is that it’s making it extremely difficult for me and my mom right now. And I’ve yet to find the words to explain it all to her without her feeling like I’m just attacking her. And if I want to one day be able to truly let go of this anger, I must first find a way to express it.

Karmic Bone to Pick

2010-03-05T20:03:00.001-07:00

Alright. I’ve a bone to pick with karma. Everything from the fact that we finally get a string of sunny days and I’m stuck inside with sick kids. To the fact that my dad is going downhill fast according to my mom and I’ve got sick kids so therefore cannot go to NM to be with him. Oh and there was the whole we paid off my husband’s car and then he got into a car accident less than 24 hours after we paid the sucker off. There’s the biggie of my dad dying of course. And to top it all off, my dog died. Seriously?!? What’s this all about?

I’ve been working my ass off for the past 18 months to grow as a person in pretty much every conceivable way. I’ve been doing everything I know how to do to take care of my family and make it stronger. I’ve been pushing and learning and just doing what needs to be done in order to be a better person all the way around. And instead of even just getting a breather, the universe just keeps piling more crap on my plate (and the plates of the people I love now that you mention it).

I just don’t get it. Is the universe on a broadly sweeping war path these days? Between the earthquakes and tsunamis, the shootings, the financial issues, the health crises and on and on it feels like one big tragic swath is being cut through the world. Indiscriminate in its path and showing no mercy.

There’s a part of me that wants to climb atop of the tallest mountain and scream at the powers that be to knock it the hell off already. There’s another part of me that just wants to curl up in a ball and cry. Then there’s a part of me that is continually grateful for the chance to keep learning. Grateful that I’m being forced to keep expanding in my being, because at this point I would b relishing in full-on sloth-hood because I’m so bone tired. Granted I think that grateful part of me is a wee bit on the crazy side. But still.

Ode to Immune Systems and Baby!

2010-03-04T18:19:00.001-07:00

The Boy must have an immune system like a friggin’ tank. I’m tellin’ ya’. When we put him to bed last night, he had a 104 degree fever, had been projectile vomiting all afternoon, had the croup and was basically the sickest he has been in a very long time. When he woke up this morning, he was fever free, vomit free, breathing freely and essentially back to himself. I still kept him home from school though, mostly because if he was still contagious I didn’t want him spreading this plague to someone else. Also, I didn’t want to have to go pick him up should his fever and/or vomit return. I know, I am such a super compassionate mom. But he’s definitely going back to school tomorrow. He’s kept all his food down today, had no return of the fever and been back to my sweet boy again. For which I am utterly grateful. He so rarely gets sick anymore that when he gets that sick, it freaks me out just a little.

The Girl seems to be fine so far (knocking on wood, furiously) and other than being stuffy, I appear to be fine too (screw it, I am just going to make sure some part of me is always touching and/or tapping wood until summer arrives).

On a decidedly non-sickness related note, my college roommate and her husband just got word last night that they were chosen by a birth mother to adopt her little boy!! So they are going to be parents in about a week and a half, if everything continues to go along as planned. I am so excited for them I could bust. I mean seriously. I’d do almost anything to be there with them to go shopping and put together furniture and move stuff around. I would just love to be there with them through this amazing time. But they know I’m there in spirit and I’ve told C to call me anytime for anything. I can’t wait to see pictures of the little guy, I’m just so excited! I said that already didn’t I? Fine. I’ll just go back to planning their new parent/baby care package.

3/3/10 - Sickness, Again

2010-03-04T17:21:00.000-07:00

I can’t remember the first time The Boy got the croup, he wasn’t very old. And it’s a tradition that The Girl has kept up with. I can spot the early stages of croup a mile away. So when The Boy came home from school a few days ago with a bit of a hoarse voice, I knew we were in for something. I just kept my fingers crossed that maybe it wouldn’t fully manifest. But last night at about 2am, my husband and I were awakened to The Boy crying and gasping for air in our bathroom. I knew from the moment I heard the strider in his voice that it was the croup. And of course I was out of the correct dosing of prednisone for him. So we sat with him in a steamy bathroom (at least I got a good facial out of the deal) with him for about 20 minutes until we could get him calmed down enough to get his breath back. Oh, and he also had a fever.

We got The Girl dropped off at school this morning and then headed straight to the doctor. Yes on the croup, ruled out strep. His fever wasn’t too bad when we were in the office. By late afternoon however, his fever was up to 104 degrees and he had started projectile vomiting. And I’m here to tell you that cherry slushy and nachos does not come back up well. I don’t think my favorite couch blanket will ever be the same after being christened with that colorful mixture. He was able to keep down a good dose of Motrin though and we got him to bed. So I’ve got my fingers crossed that this will all have turned around by morning. And I’ve got my toes crossed that it just passes The Girl right on by, because she doesn’t need to be having anything that carries a 104 degree fever with it. It’s been almost exactly a year since her febrile seizure and I’ve no inclination to do a repeat performance as a way of commemoration thankyouverymuch.

I am ready for this week to give me a friggin’ break already.

Goodbye Joplin

2010-03-02T15:53:00.001-07:00

About 10 years ago the contractor that gutted and renovated my parents’ retirement house told my mom about a puppy they had gotten and could no longer care for. So we went out to their house to take a look at her. I will never forget walking around the side of their house and catching sight of this sweet little yellow girl just as she leapt directly into my arms. It was love at first sight and a few minutes later she was riding in my lap happily licking my hands, until the car sickness sank in that is, and then I was desperately trying to get her mouth pointed toward the floor instead of my lap.

She was my husband’s and my first dog. We named her Joplin, after Janis of course. We spoiled her rotten. Although to this day she’s the best trained dog I’ve ever known.

And last night she died. Out of nowhere. I mean, yes, she was about 10 years old, but other than some arthritis, she was in great health. Unfortunately we had to send her to my parents to live after The Girl was born because Joplin got pretty angry. Actually I think she was more sad than angry. She loved both kids, but she was so sad to lose her parents to them. And more to the point, our attention. So when she started peeing every single day in the same spot in The Girl’s bedroom, we took her back to my parents’ house where she would have more room and all of their attention. She was happier there although I missed her desperately and her us. But last night when my parents got home from dinner she had lost all use of her back end and was having trouble breathing. She was gone within about 15 minutes. The vet thinks she probably had a heart attack.

And I am devastated. She was my girl. So I am just going to envision her running full out in a huge grass meadow, chasing down endless tennis balls. Young and gorgeous and lightening fast. Keep on running my sweet blonde dog, keep on running. We love you so much.

Gratitude

2010-03-01T19:19:00.001-07:00

So it appears that awe re staying put for now. Of course that could change tomorrow. But for now, we’re staying here, at least until spring break rolls around. Although my mom has tried mightily, I think my Aunt T is leaving tomorrow and will then be back the same time we are, with all the sisters in tow. I think the family reunion could be a really wonderful thing for my dad and all of his siblings (his brother excluded who cannot come). It will give them all a chance to be together for the first time since my grandmother died and it will be the first time that they’ve all come together without her as impetus. I think it will be a really good thing. Once we get through the awkward silences and dancing around the fact that their brother is dying. But I will be there and so will Aunt T, so between the two of us, we should be able to keep the atmosphere pretty positive I think.

My dad had a good day today. It looks like the upswing finally found him, for which I am grateful. He was not in good shape a few days ago. The oxygen was delivered today and he actually said he was going to give it a try and see if it made any difference in how he felt. His hospice nurse has said that she’d like to see him on it all the time. A lack of oxygen can cause all sorts of troublesome things in addition to shortness of breath. So he agreed to give it a try. I was flabbergasted in the best possible way. It was really good to talk to him today, he sounded good again. Like my dad. Funny and chatty. Which actually made me want to get in the car even more. Because it’s those days I really don’t want to miss. It’s those days that I really don’t want the kids to miss.

But at this point I’m grateful to be able to share them with him in any way I can. We’re just taking it one day at a time. Today was a good day.

2/28/10 - A Little of This and That

2010-03-01T10:29:00.001-07:00

I’m making myself get into a semi-upright position to write this today. I think that’s about all I can muster though. It seems like I’m doing pretty good through the weekdays. Because I know that I have no choice. I have to be on the ball and on time because I have no backup and no time to just check out. But on the weekends? That’s a different story. The past two weeks, I’ve just totally checked out come Saturday. I figure if that's the worst of it, that I foist upon my family, having me disappear a bit on the weekends, then I’m doing pretty good.

Yesterday, I took a three hour nap. I never take naps. Today I found a Karate Kid marathon and I’ve glued myself to the couch to watch every single moment of it. I wish it was on just about any other channel than ABC Family so that I didn’t have to watch commercials for the silly tween shows they are so proud of.

On a non-TV note, I’m about ¾ of the way through Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman and I love it. His writing reminds me a bit of Christopher Moore, only not quite as verbose and colorful. Although I think I’ve discovered that I should have read American Gods first, but oh well. I still need to finish Dandelion Wine as well; I got a bit distracted and needed something slightly less brain intensive for the moment. But I’ll get back to it.

And I still haven’t finished my story for last week. I’ve got to get on that sucker; it’s starting to haunt me now. Actually it’s not. That’s the problem.

My dad is about the same as yesterday. My mom said he had another spell of not being able to breathe, but it wasn’t as bad as the one on Thursday night. They are going to start having someone from hospice come out almost daily. Alternating days between an aide and a nurse to help out around the house as well as to keep tabs on his health. Thank goodness, but I still think we’ll be heading down there in the next weather window.

2/27/10 - To Be Expected

2010-03-01T10:10:00.000-07:00

We’re still in CO. My dad has slept about 34 of the last 48 hours. I think it is getting to the point where it just takes so much energy for him to be awake and ambulatory. I know, rationally, that this is to be expected. And I know that this is another step downhill. Dad, mom and Aunt T all tell me that he seems to be doing a bit better today. But every time I talk to him, he’s still gasping for breath. Rationally, I know that this too is to be expected. He has lung cancer, having trouble breathing is definitely to be expected. It’s just pretty brutal to hear.

I was talking to my Aunt T the other day about all of my dad’s sisters coming to visit around Easter and I told her that she should prepare them because how he is now is going to be hard for them to reconcile against the big brother they’ve always known. I know it’s going to be hard for even me to reconcile because it’s been a month since I’ve seen him. He’s always been the robust, outdoorsy kind of guy. He does yard chores because he likes to be outside and working with his hands. He loves to see the effect his effort has on his environment. And he has a profound love and respect for nature. All of these things have always been evident in his physicality. But now, that is dwindling. A little at a time. With his strength, his vitality is also shrinking. So far, that may be the hardest thing for me to see. Watching his sheer physical presence dwindle.

I think, perhaps, that even if he does manage to rally after this jaunt downhill, that the kids and I will head down there soon. I find myself thinking about the time just flying by and then it sinks in that this will by my dad’s last February on earth. And the thought that I’m missing that, that my children are missing that, makes me unbearably sad.

I know I can’t bring my dad the peace he needs, but perhaps I can find some of my own.

Dad

2010-02-26T19:04:00.001-07:00

“I don’t want to scare you, but…”

That was how my mom started our conversation when she called last night at 9:30pm to tell me Dad had just had an hour long spell of not being able to breathe. At one point she thought she had lost him. My immediate thought was that I should grab the children, pour their sleeping bodies into the car and drive like a bat out of hell to NM post haste. It didn’t scare me necessarily, but it did put me into ready to rock and roll mode. I slept with the phone by our bed last night (if you could call it sleeping) and got up early hoping my mom would call early to give me an update. Which she did. Dad slept fairly well once he got settled in last night.

My Aunt T flew in this morning and Dad was still sleeping when my mom left for the airport. He slept until nearly 10am and then took a 3 ½ hour nap at about noon. So he's been asleep for most of the day. Both times I talked to him he sounded awful. Like gasping for breath awful. And again, it made me want to just jump in the car with nothing but my tooth brush and children and get there as fast as I could.

But he’s had really bad days before and then rallied. So I’m trying to stay out of panic mode while simultaneously making plans for how to get out of here as quickly as possible if need be. The last time I called the hospice nurse had just arrived, so I gave Dad instructions for someone to call me when she leaves with a full report.

Once we decided that we probably would not be leaving today, I took The Girl out for a day of fun. We met some friends for lunch and played then went and got ice cream just the two of us (sshh, don’t tell her brother). Came home and sat out in the sun (sun!) and talked with some neighbor friends. It was good day, even if part of me is still on pins and needles.

Chief Blahety of Blahsville

2010-02-25T19:35:00.001-07:00

I’ve had a really lovely day. Starting off with coffee with sweet E and her even sweeter new baby L. We don’t get to see each other nearly enough for my tastes, so it’s always a treat to be able to get together. She had to leave before me to pick up her kiddos from school, so I just stayed at the coffee house and read. By myself. Without anyone interrupting me every other sentence to get them water or listen to this song or, or, or…it was glorious to just sit on a comfy couch with an almond latte and get into Neil Gaiman.

The Girl and I had a nice lunch at home that merged into a nice afternoon.

The only downside to today? I’ve had exactly no (read zip, zilch, zero) motivation to finish my story for the week. Like I sit and stare at the page with the little cursor eye blinking at me expectantly and it’s not that I’m blocked or frustrated or stuck. I’ve just so many other places to go in my head right now than to finish telling this story today. It pretty much boils down to, I don’t wanna. I just don’t want to write today. This post is going to be chief blahety of blahsville as well. Sorry about that. But I’m just sort of content today. The anger hasn’t really made a comeback. I’m not screaming or sobbing. I’m not all tweaked out over my story this week. I just sort of am. Content. Makes it hard to weave drama and interest into much of anything when you’re totally content to just sit and stare into space.

So I’m afraid that my story will be late this week. Because I’d rather it just be late than be crap because I forced it, and ultimately didn’t give a damn about it. So for any of you cross readers, sorry about that. I’m going to try my hardest to make the wait worthwhile.

And I’ve just about got our taxes done for the year, so we’ll soon know what we get to keep and what we don’t. Hhhmmm…maybe I do have some angst broiling after all…

It's a Blech Kind of Day

2010-02-24T11:48:00.000-07:00

Do you ever have one of those days where you look at everything you’ve done and everything you’re doing now and just think, huh, wow, I’m just not all that good at much of anything. Yeah. I am having one of those days. It’s an utterly silly day to have, I know that. Rationally. With the rational part of my mind, I know that these sorts of thoughts are silly and useless and do nothing but cosign my own bullshit. But nevertheless, here I am, having one of those days.

As I was driving home from taking The Girl to school I was thinking about all the work I’ve done in fundraising over the last 10 years. And for some reason I could not think of one absolute success through my entire career. There was always something there to taint every single thing that I did right. And the fact that, of my own choosing, I haven’t worked in more than a year and even though this time last year was sending out resumes every single day and never got past a first interview with anyone just seemed to put the last nail in the coffin of my career.

And I’ve committed to writing. Because I have to. It has always been my heart of heart’s passion and it’s time that I stopped talking myself out of it and just did it. But my weekly story deadline is tomorrow and I can easily think of a hundred other things I’d like to do rather than finish this week’s story. Of course, then the little self doubt voice chimes in with “Well, it’s not like you’ve got a huge readership anyway so they probably won’t even notice if you skip a week.” Yeah, not so much with the helpful.

On top of it all, with the severe cold and tons of snow, I have been using TV entirely too much lately. The Girl is bored out of her skull and I’ve got a serious case of “I’m a bad mom” going on.

I know it’s mostly just cabin fever, stress and haywire emotions. And that ultimately, tomorrow will be different. It’s just one of those days.

All you Need is Love

2010-02-23T16:20:00.000-07:00

I got to spend some time with my dearest L this morning. The Girl and her youngest go to the same preschool so we occasionally are able to use our morning free time to just hang out and chat over a cup of coffee. With my self-isolation and unpleasant to be around anger as of late, it’s been a while since we’ve been able to hang out. It was much needed and really lovely.

L is an international adoption social worker and if there was ever a person better suited to her work, I don’t know who they are. She is a deeply intuitive person who is easy to trust, easy to talk to and truly enjoys her work. I just adore her and she is an incredibly important part of my life.

And she’s having a hard time right now. One of her families had a complete meltdown and after bringing home this gorgeous girl from Korea decided that they could not be her forever family after all. So L and her husband agreed to provide temporary foster care for this sweet baby girl until the adoption agency could meet with other families who are waiting for children to which to give homes. I got to meet this baby girl this morning and I loved her immediately. And so does L. It is such a tremendously hard thing to bring a baby into your home who needs nothing but love from you and not fall in love with her.

The situation all around is just so heartbreaking. The family who were originally going to adopt her are heartbroken that they’ve failed this sweet girl. L is heartbroken for not seeing the lack of commitment in this family sooner in the process. And this sweet girl’s heart is broken for not having a forever family yet. It is just a truly agonizing situation for everyone involved. But of course, L, being the amazing woman that she is, is just completely focused on showering this baby with the love that she needs.

It was such a lovely morning to sit with a gorgeous friend and just love her and this baby girl with everything I have.

In Defense of Nest

2010-02-22T19:31:00.000-07:00

My college roommate picked a fight with a bunch of moms on Facebook today. Which actually turned out to be a jumping off point for she and I to spend an embarrassing large chunk of time first IM’ing and then talking on the phone about the whole thing. It’s a really huge parenting can of worms. Or at least it’s been turned into a huge can of worms for modern day parents. I don’t remember it being all that big of a deal for my parents when I was a kid.

It’s the question of how old your children should be before you allow them to have a sleepover at someone else’s house. I remember the biggest issue being whether or not I was ready to be away from home all night or not. I remember having to call my parents at about midnight my first sleepover because I just couldn’t handle it. It turns out now the biggest concern is one of trust. Trusting the parents and children at whose house your child will be sleeping. Mostly in terms of safety. Whether or not the parents can be trusted to provide adequate levels of supervision. Whether or not older siblings will introduce your child to inappropriate things. Whether or not your child will be put in a position to be hurt in this surrounding. And to be entirely honest, the whole thing baffles me.

See, these other mothers immediately jumped to sexual abuse and molestation as an imminent and real threat. And my mouth just dropped at this. I think it’s the imminence these mothers see that shocks me the most. They essentially feel like they won’t allow sleepovers at all until they feel their children are old enough to be their own advocates. Which essentially means their first night away from home will happen when they leave for college. I don’t mean to be flip, but seriously. Can anyone truthfully say they were completely equipped to be their own advocates, not to be influenced by questions of social or emotional pressures, much before they left the nest? Or more to the point, until they had to create (and perhaps defend) their own nest?

2/21/10 - Digestion

2010-02-22T19:09:00.000-07:00

Migraine. Migraine. Migraine. I’ve had a migraine since Thursday. I’ve spent all day today on the couch, moaning occasionally, watching movies. I can’t look at my computer, so I’m typing this out as quickly as possible just to get my daily writing out of the way. I know it’s a stress/not drinking enough water/not getting enough sleep thing. But seriously. I’m way over it now.

But having the time to just lie on the couch has also given me some time to think and digest. I spent most of this past week trying to re-reach out to some friends. Because I am tired of being angry. And I’m tired of feeling like I’m never going to be anything but angry. So I reached out to a friend I’ve known since the beginning of high school who is now a UCC minister to get some perspective. And I reached out to my oldest friend who lost her mother in college and her father not to long after The Boy was born. They both wrote me words that took quite a bit of digesting – in the best possible way. Words that I needed to hear but couldn’t come up with on my own. Words that provided the perspective that I needed but couldn’t get to because I was so cemented into my current angry point of view. Words that reminded me that it’s ok for this to be hard, that it’s ok for me to be angry, that it’s ok for me to not understand. But it’s my banging my head against the wall of that lack of understanding that’s creating such anger and strife for me right now. They were words I needed to hear and needed to digest and I’m so grateful for them and the friends who wrote them.

Ultimately I’m pissed off that my dad is dying. And that’s just compounded by the fact that I can’t for the life of me control or make any sense out of any aspect of that. Yeah. That just plain sucks.

So in some respects I suppose I’m glad for the space and time to reflect, even if it was accompanied by pain and strobe lights.

Literal Kinship

2010-02-20T18:54:00.000-07:00

I am not a self help book person. At. All. They make me pretty crazy actually. But I’ve had several friends either recommend or outright give me several books on death and grieving since my dad’s diagnosis. And they’ve all ended up on my bedside table with me having little to no intention to actually read them. But one of them was written by a friend of mine who lost her mother to cancer several years ago. The book she wrote is more about her journey through the process than a guide on how to do the process, so because I know and adore this woman, I picked it up the other night. I also picked it up because I was at my wit’s end and entirely willing to get my hands on some answers in whatever way I could find them.

Her journey has been so completely different than mine that I lost hope quickly that I’d find anything to relate to. She’s a gorgeous writer and she tells a good story, so I decided to finish it for those reasons alone. But as I got more into the meat of her journey I started to recognize huge chunks. I started to recognize the emotions that go with watching a parent get diagnosed with a terminal illness and then having to watch that illness suck their bodies dry of everything that made them strong. I started to recognize her dedication to being the caretaker above her own wants and needs. I started to recognize her coming to grips with the fact that her parent was going to die and that would have ripple effects for the rest of her life. I found myself crying while reading pieces of her story. I found myself nodding and laughing at other parts. Those pieces held a kinship for me that I’ve yet to find anywhere else since this whole journey began. And that in and of itself was such a tremendous relief that I wanted to write her immediately to say thank you.

I have no idea what I’m doing on this journey. But at least I know now that I am not alone and not crazy.

Smooshed Car

2010-02-19T20:20:00.000-07:00

Here’s a little karmic riddle for you. If we take the responsible path, use a good portion of my husband’s annual bonus to pay off his car once and for all, saving us that monthly car payment to put back into our budget which will help tremendously, one would think the universe would reward us by smiling down on us in some way right? Yeah, apparently, not so much. Because instead of being bathed in the light that comes from making the right financial choices, my husband instead got into a car accident this morning on his way to take The Boy to school (he and the kids are both fine, thank goodness). So now, we have to use a good chunk of what was going to be socked away into savings to meet our deductible to get his car fixed. I’m sighing hugely right now. But everyone is safe, so I’m trying to focus on being grateful for that.

And we got our pantry almost completely restocked today as well, so that’s a good thing. My husband tried valiantly to talk me into getting a PS3 or XBOX 360 but I reminded him that it was choices such as those that got us into trouble to begin with. He laughed and agreed with me, but there was still a glint in his eye that told me all I had to do was say “Yes, my darling husband, you work your ass off so if you want to take some of your bonus that you worked your ass off for to get a new toy, by all means, have at it!” Perhaps if he hadn’t smooshed the front end of his automobile this morning I would have relented, because he does work his ass off and he totally deserves a new toy. Alas and alack however, his car is smooshed and in need of repair. Plus I think we’d both rather use any extra money we have to put into a travel fund to go see his parents or take a family vacation. Maybe I’ll just save my pennies and get it for him as a huge present. Christmas is only 10 months away right?

2/18/10 - Strobe Light Writing

2010-02-19T20:06:00.001-07:00

So I am sitting here alternately working on my story for the week and chatting with a friend and suddenly what was just a totally clear laptop screen is a strobe light. I’m looking through a strobe light. Am, in fact, looking through a strobe light right now. So I’ll apologize ahead of time for any spelling or grammatical mistakes because I can’t really, you know, see what I’m typing. I’m going to try to get this typed as quickly as possible so that I get my writing in for the day, although I’m not at all sure I’ll be able to post it today with the whole I can’t really see thing going on.

My husband got his annual bonus today and I’m super excited. Although I can feel old habits tossing their grizzled heads in the background. Suddenly having money again makes me want to go out to dinner! Go see a movie! Go out with girlfriends! Go out on a date with my husband! Book a flight to just about anywhere! But it’s those kind of old habits, spend it if you’ve got it, that got us into this whole financial mess to begin with. So instead, we’re paying off my husband’s car. Thoroughly re-stocking our pantry. Maybe taking the family out to dinner to the kids’ favorite place – Red Robin. And socking the rest away into savings so that we aren’t caught another month having to choose between our bills and groceries. It’s the responsible thing to do. Boring as hell, but responsible. We’re hoping that if we get to keep some of our tax refund that we’ll be able to get out to Georgia to see my husband’s parents this spring or early summer (I will not be caught dead in Georgia in full summer ever again). And I thought I might try to eek out another girl’s weekend on the cheap this year as I could really, really use some good, dedicated girlfriend time. But I do have to admit that it feels pretty good to pay my husband’s car off. So maybe this whole responsibility thing isn’t all boring.

And now, I’m going to bed. See you tomorrow.

The Mess That I Am

2010-02-17T17:34:00.001-07:00

So I have this anger. This anger that I keep expecting to start dissipating as the time goes by. This anger that I’ve been diligently trying to just let be in the hopes that it would burn itself out. Here’s the problem though, it turns out when you “diligently” try to do something, you’re not actually just letting it be, are you?

So, here’s the truth. I am angry. I’m so angry I can hardly see straight. I’m angry that my father is dying. I’m angry that my father will not let me in during this time of grief and ending. I’m angry that he won’t let me help him find the answers he’s craving so that he can have some peace in whatever time he has left. When this diagnosis first happened, it brought my dad back to me. He was present and honest and actively choosing to bring me into his process. Now he’s gone back to sitting still again, in the worst possible way. There’s no peace or growth in this sitting still. Or at least there doesn’t appear to be any, but I wouldn’t really know for sure because he won’t, you know, let me in.

And I’m angry because everyone just expects me to understand. My dad expects me to take care of my family and that’s it. My mom expects me to just let them both do whatever they want exclusive of my place in this family. Our oldest family friends expect me to sit back and just understand. I do not understand. I do not understand how it’s ok to shove your only daughter away from you when you’re dying under the guise of wanting me to take care of my “own family.” What the hell is that?!? My parents aren’t my family?

To be honest I’m tired of understanding. I’m tired of walking on eggshells. I’m tired of pretending like everything is ok. I’m tired of acting as if my feelings about my father dying don’t actually matter.

I want permission to be angry. I want permission to fall apart. I want permission to be the mess that I am.

The angry, tired mess that I am.

Field Trip

2010-02-16T20:02:00.000-07:00

The Girl had a field trip with her preschool to the main firehouse downtown this morning. And aside from the part where I totally spaced it and was late, it was great. Except for the one other little point of me being crabby when my morning got totally screwed because my preschooler went on a field trip that I had to drive her to, supervise while there and then drive her to school. So, you know, I was essentially paying her preschool so that I could take her on a field trip with her friends. Cool. Only not. I know it’s not a big deal. But these couple of mornings a week that I get to myself to write and read and do all the things I don’t get to do when she’s around are precious to me. Utterly precious. And disruption of them thoroughly rouses my inner crank.

The firefighters got all dressed up in their firefighting garb which of course, scared the bejeezus out of The Girl. But she eventually got brave enough that she wanted to try on the gigantic boots. The firemen were all extraordinarily nice. They just adore it when kids come to take tours. It always surprises me how much they love the kids. The Girl was most interested in all the gear and the kitchen. She didn’t much care about the pole or the big truck. But she wanted to know what every single thing on the uniform and firefighting gear was for. And she seriously could not wait to see their kitchen; she desperately wanted to see where they made all of their food. And as we were walking out one of the firemen asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up and she responded with “A princess!” He was very sweet with her and chatted a bit about what princesses do and how he thought she would make a glorious princess. It was pretty cool.

Then as we were walking out and she was proudly sticking her fire chief badge sticker on her shirt she said to me, “Actually mama, my think my want to be a firefighter.” Rock on girlfriend, rock on.

Books and Writing

2010-02-15T22:02:00.000-07:00

Alright, I finally finished the James Patterson book I was reading a couple of days ago and it wasn’t a moment too soon. My dad (who is a big mystery/thriller reader) and several friends have promised me that he has some really good books, but this obviously was not one of them. It was called Hide and Seek and the premise sounded interesting except he forgot to have any of the characters, you know, do much of anything. The whole book was build up to a big fat nothing. You knew what happened before it happened. Or if you didn’t then you weren’t actually paying attention. I thought the whole purpose of this genre was surprise and thrill. Yeah, this one missed the mark completely. I’ll give him another try with some that my dad is hand picking from his personal library, but that’s it. One more chance James Patterson!

The good news is that now I’m free to pick up Ray Bradbury’s Dandelion Wine, which I did last night. And it’s lovely. I mean I feel like I’m reading a fairy tale it’s so lovely. It’s definitely not a brain candy book, but the language he uses is just so gorgeous. And one of my favorite things about his writing so far is that he just doesn’t care if the metaphor he’s using actually makes sense. What he cares about is if the words match the feeling and how they feel in your brain as you roll over them and incorporate them into your own experience. It’s amazing. And not in the least bit nonsensical as it might become when you care more about emotion than the actual words you choose. It’s just an unabashed romp through childhood through an adult’s eyes. As if you were to go back through the wonders of your childhood with your grown up vocabulary and ability to put your actual motivation into words.

His writing has already drawn me a bit out of the suspenseful and into the summers I spent in Nebraska. So it will be interesting to see what kinds of stories I write while this panorama of nostalgia is imminent in my mind and memory.

Happy Valentine's Day

2010-02-14T21:43:00.001-07:00

I find Valentine’s Day to be utterly loathsome. But I think I regaled you enough with my abhorrence of this day last year. And I’m actually in a good mood today. So if you are looking for my more snarky side, please, feel free to look up last year’s post.

For everyone else, let’s talk movies! I took The Boy to see Percy Jackson and The Lightening Thief today. We got him the books by Rick Riordan for Christmas this year in an attempt to get him really interested in stories instead of him always thinking that reading is only a chore to be done in school. So we’ve been reading them before bed every night. Not only are the books really good, but it also gives The Boy and I a chance to connect every day which is lovely. But we’re both totally sucked into the books and we are just starting the third one. So when we saw that they had made a movie of the first book, we were both totally stoked and I thought it would be a really fun thing for just him and me to do. So we met some good friends at the (sold out) movie theater today and strapped in for some super fun frolicking through Greek mythology. Instead it was like they took all the characters’ names and then decided to tell a totally different story. I think maybe they sat down with the author and said, “OK, we really like your story Mr. Riordan, and we’ll use it for inspiration, but we have other ideas. You’re ok with that right?” I mean, yes it was a good movie. It just had very little to do with the book on which it was supposedly based.

My husband and I have a long standing love affair with zombies. So how better to spend Valentine’s Day than to watch Zombieland? We have both wanted to see it for forever and it was well worth the wait. We both loved it.

Movies, a big fat box of chocolates, time with my Boy, a super sweet card from my hubby. This may very well be the best Valentine’s Day ever.

New Books

2010-02-13T23:28:00.000-07:00

The Girl and I went to the library on Friday as I was fast approaching the end of the last in the Dragons of Pern books that I had on-hand. I knew it would be closed on Monday and I wanted to make sure I had books through the weekend since it’s really the only time other than bedtime that I’m guaranteed to have any time to read. We even went to the big library downtown. Our library is much newer, but also much smaller. And I must say that I was a wee bit disappointed. I made a very specific list of books that I was looking for. Granted, several of those books are older, but I also know they were extremely popular so I didn’t think I’d have any trouble finding what I was looking for. Turns out I was pretty wrong.

The list I made had a pretty nice mix of sci-fi/fantasy and mystery/suspense; my thought being that I just swap back and forth as I made my way through to determine which authors I really liked and then I’d go back and get more of those authors. Except that I couldn’t the most of James Patterson’s Alex Cross series, pretty much only the newer ones. I couldn’t find any of Michael Connelly’s Harry Bosch series; I couldn’t find any of Catherine Coulter’s FBI series. They only had two Ray Bradbury on the shelves. They only had a handful of Neil Gaiman. I was not happy. I was able to find Book of the New Sun by Gene Wolfe, thank goodness. But I was still seriously disappointed by the lack of depth in these overwhelming popular and prolific authors.

Thankfully, my dad is a total mystery/suspense junky. So he said he’d go through his bookshelves and pull his favorites for me to get while the kids and I are there for their ridiculously long Spring Break. So I’ll have that to look forward to at least. Because I did find one James Patterson book that sounded fairly interesting. And I’m here to tell you that if the rest of his writing is this bad, I don’t want much to do with him.

2/12/10 - Winter Olympics

2010-02-13T23:16:00.000-07:00

The Winter Olympics start tonight! I love the Olympics. Although I do remember thinking for a long time that I liked the Winter Olympics more than the Summer Olympics only to have that soundly disproven two years ago when I got so into the Summer Olympics that I was nearly insufferable. I don’t think I’ll get that way again this time for a couple of reasons. First because the X Games were just two weeks ago and I got thoroughly saturated with Winter sports, especially the ones I really like. Although the X Games have yet to include figure skating. Or ice dancing. And I don’t see those being added anytime soon.

I was glad to see that Shawn White’s chin is almost completely healed. Lindsey Vonn is healing and getting some help from the weather by getting her events postponed. And the American athletes look to be pretty good shape.

Except for one. The young man from the Georgian Olympic team who died today during one of his practice runs. And of course the news showed the accident. Although I do have to give it to them that they only showed it once and then pulled it in respect for the family. Thank goodness. Because it was truly brutal. I cannot imagine flying through the air at 90 miles an hour, having your body whipped out of any control by heinous g-forces only to have all of that savage movement stopped abruptly by a steel beam. The only hope I have for this young man is that he was killed instantly and felt no pain. The safety teams have been deconstructing the accident to determine how they can ensure it never happens again. I hope they succeed.

So it’s with bittersweet enthusiasm that we’ll watch the opening ceremonies. Everyone’s been wondering whether Vancouver would be able to outdo the opening ceremonies from China, knowing full well that they couldn’t. And in a breath of fresh air, the producer/designer for the ceremony said he had no intention to even try. His sole purpose was to showcase the wonders of Canada and make every single viewer want to visit. Sounds like a good idea to me!

Story Day!

2010-02-11T19:10:00.000-07:00

It’s story day again! Yippee! No, seriously. This week wasn’t so bad. I had a pretty clear idea of what I wanted to do and then, crazy as it sounds, I actually did it. I decided to play with the microfiction format this week (stories with a word count of 300-500 words). I spent a good portion of the week thinking about story ideas, trying to figure out how to squeeze any of the ideas that bubbled to the top into that kind of word count. I mean, I am pretty good at writing down my thoughts in a concise manner, but I have no idea how to put a leash on a character. So, again, I focused on a very specific situation and decided to focus that down ever farther by really concentrating on trying to get the reader to feel something very specific. So the whole point of the story was more to make the reader feel with the character than to define the character or even really tell a story.

I know, I know. But the project is all about writing stories you say. And I agree with you. But I am discovering there are a lot of components to story writing. I have been trying to figure out how to work on all of those elements so that I can get stronger. The thought being that if I can strengthen my abilities with the separate elements, then my story as a whole will also get stronger and my abilities as a writer will continue to grow. At least that is the theory. But you’ll have to read this week’s story and tell me if you think I’ve succeeded (hint! hint!). Of course you could also read it and it could only serve to cement your thought that I’ve no business writing and should go back to my day job.

Yeah. Well, the jury is still out. So I’ll just keep plugging along, trying to push my own boundaries.

And I’m almost ready to move on to reading James Patterson or Tom Clancy although I’ll be sad to leave Pern, but I’m excited to see where my imagination takes me from here.

One of those Days

2010-02-10T18:30:00.002-07:00

I wanted to do nothing but lie on the couch, read and eat cookies today. Alas and alack, that’s just not allowed when you have a 3 ½ year old dictator nipping at your heels constantly for food, drink and entertainment. I mean seriously, when is this pup ready to get her own damn juice?! There are just days that are harder than others to remain civil when The Girl asks for the umpteenth time for a snack or a different show or exclaims in her best Scarlett O’Hara impersonation that she is bored. Today was one of those days.

Today was one of those days that when The Boy’s school called mid-afternoon to tell me he had a fever and would I please come pick up my germ infested child and The Girl was dawdling in getting dressed that I found myself screaming at her to please just put on some pants already. How hard is it to just put on pants?! Because she had switched out her pretty princess nightgown for the infinitely more weather appropriate shorts and a t-shirt. In February. When the high the last week hasn’t been above 30 effing degrees. Today was one of those days when little things like that simply drive me over the edge.

Today was one of those days when I was resentful to have a sick kid. A day when I found myself fervently praying that his fever breaks tonight because if I have to keep him home tomorrow then I don’t get my alone time while The Girl is in school. And my sanity is demanding alone time. Plus I haven’t even really started this week’s story for 52 in 52. I have the general premise in my head, but no clue as to how I’m actually going to write the sucker.

Today is one of those days when I am crabby and find myself teary while reading a story to The Boy before bed. One of those days when I would have been happy to not have to talk or listen to anyone. One of those days when my best bet would’ve been to lie on the couch, read and eat cookies.

Strolling Along

2010-02-09T11:56:00.000-07:00

Is there such a thing as writer’s fatigue? I’m not at all sure I knew what I was getting myself into when I started this project. I was pretty sure that writing short stories wouldn’t take much more effort than my daily 365 writing (and I’ve gotten exceedingly good at that). I just sort of figured that once I got a couple of stories written and built my self confidence that it would start to come pretty easily and whittling out the time to write these stories would just work itself out.

Yeah. I am pretty sure I was wrong. Because every week it’s a struggle. It’s primarily a struggle to simply find the time to sit down, focus and write the story that is unfolding in my head. But it is also a struggle to focus that story. I’m still having a bit of trouble with the whole “starting a novel” thing which causes me to second guess myself. And I’m still not brimming with the confidence I had hoped I might at least have an inkling of at this point in the project. I’m sure the three friends that I keep turning to for help when I get stuck dread seeing the green dot beside my name denoting my presence on line these days; finding themselves fervently hoping that I’d just figure it all out already.

The odd thing is that even though I wrestle with this every week, it’s a wrestling match that I actually enjoy. I love engaging my brain in a new way to see the world in a different way. Working to draw stories out of people that exist only in my dreams or imagination doing everyday things that suddenly seem interesting because of the people doing them. It’s fun and it’s sort of like taking my brain out for a walk in one of those new neighborhoods full of cookie cutter houses and winding roads that all lead back to each other. It’s pretty but I have no idea how the hell to find my way home.

So, I’m going to enjoy the scenery, leave a trail of breadcrumbs, learn some new wrestling moves and just keep writing.

2/8/10 - Tearful Reading

2010-02-09T11:31:00.001-07:00

I discovered a few new websites today that had me in a variety of tears as I waded through their archives; everything from tears of recognition and sisterhood to raucous laughter and hell yeahs.

The first website is www.theshapeofamother.com and its entire existence is dedicated to providing a space for women to tell their bodies’ stories as they grow, birth, feed and continue to take care of the children we carry for the rest of our lives. It’s an extraordinarily beautiful site full of heartfelt stories from women coming to grips with and developing immense gratitude for their bodies as they change along the process it takes to become a mother. They celebrate stretch marks as mementos of our bodies’ ability to conform to the needs of the babies we have had in our bellies. They laugh good naturedly about the march of gravity across our boobs, bellies and asses. They jump for joy when weight goals are met and are at the ready with encouragement when they’re not. And they do it all with pictures. Unabashedly displaying all of these things that we hide from even our husbands and definitely from ourselves because of the sheer pride of being able to participate in this group of women exclaiming at the top of their lungs what miracles their bodies are capable of. It’s lovely.

The second is Shapely Prose (www.kateharding.net) and she is awesome. She’s hilarious, witty, amazingly honest and I adore her writing for all of these things and the fact that she just doesn’t take herself very seriously which I have a deep appreciation for as that’s a personality trait I’m trying hard to adopt as of late.

The last is www.mamamia.com.au and apparently she’s a pretty well known author and commentator but I’ve never heard of her. I found her through The Shape of a Mother’s Facebook page and while her site has a more journalistic feel to it, she’s still lovely, funny and honest. She write scathingly about the media’s obsession with body image in a way that makes me want to jump up and down and yell hallelujah!

It was a good day immersing myself in new to me writing.

2/7/10 - Happy Superbowl Sunday!

2010-02-08T15:17:00.001-07:00

Superbowl Sunday baby!!! For my own personal football fandom, it’s the apex of football. Well at least this year it is. Which is a little disorienting after so many years of not only not caring much about the teams, but also having the game be such a boring blow out that I paid more attention to the French onion dip than the TV. But it’s been a Manning triple play the last few years (with some Big Ben thrown in for good measure), which I am super stoked about.

The Indianapolis Colts are my team. I love them. And have for several years now. I adore Peyton Manning and definitely think he is the best quarterback in the league right now. And the Colts are in the Superbowl for the second time in three years this year (and his little brother Eli stuck it to the Patriots a couple of years ago in a game that seriously made my day – put that in your pipe and smoke it stupid Brady!).

Several weeks ago I said, “Wouldn’t it be a great game if the Superbowl was the Colts and the Saints?” Well I got my wish. And my nightmare. Because honestly, I think the Saints are just about the only team that could beat the Colts (when they are playing as well as they have been). They are consistent (mostly) and they have passion in spades for their team and their city. They play football not only because they love it and make lots and lots of money, but because they feel like they owe it to the city of New Orleans to play as well as they absolutely can. And that’s pretty cool.

Unless of course they are facing MY team that has maddeningly decided to play conservatively (yes, I’m talking to you Coach Caldwell!!), make really poor decisions in play calling and clock management and give the whole effing game away when it was just within their reach (can you hear me screaming?).

I’m thrilled that the Saints finally won a Superbowl, they played their asses off this year and they deserve it. I just wish it wasn’t at the expense of my Colts.

2/6/10 - Lazy Saturday

2010-02-08T15:16:00.001-07:00

It has been snowing all day. Seriously. All. Day. We got the house picked up and cleaned (well the most important parts anyway) this morning, I put a big pot of chili on the stove and we played the Wii and ate Frito pie the rest of the day. Productive and healthy? Not so much. Lovely way to spend my Saturday with my family? Yep.

Frito pie has always something that held little interest for me. Mostly I think because traditional Frito pies involve a lot of onions and I don’t do onions. At. All. So I just kind of wrote them off. But what’s not to like about a layer of Fritos covered with homemade chili, cheese, sour cream and avocado? Seriously yummy. And with a good deal of comfort as well.

I also finished the second book in Anne McCaffrey’s Dragonriders of Pern series. It’s also very good. Although she drops a bombshell at the end and almost kills one of my favorite characters out of nowhere about 10 pages from the end of the book. Seriously. That is just not nice. And because I was all amped up after reading the second book, I had to pick up the third immediately. I was going to put off the third one for a while to pick up some Ray Bradbury and possibly some James Patterson and/or Tom Clancy, but I just couldn’t help it. So our trip to the library to stock up on books I’ve never read is going to have to wait a bit longer until I finish this book.

One of the interesting things I’m finding is that she doesn’t really feel the need to explain what things are. They just are. And that is one of the things that has always seriously daunted me about writing sci-fi stories - how the hell do you explain everything to everyone? Yeah. She doesn’t. It’s actually sort of a relief as a reader too, because I don’t really want to read explanations about stuff, I want the story. Much like I don’t have to describe what a door is, she sees no reason why she should explain what a wherrie is. Cool.

Writing Crazy

2010-02-05T18:48:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I figured out why I’m having a hard time rectifying these crazy stories I keep writing with who I am. Get a cup of coffee because this is going to be a little on the personal side.

I’ve spent most of my life having to convince myself and everyone around me that I am, in fact, NOT crazy. I had an exceedingly hard time growing up and racked up a pile of therapists, psychologists and psychiatrists. All of which threw diagnoses at me like clinical depression, obsessive compulsive disorder, bipolar disorder and oppositional defiant disorder. Those are some pretty hefty diagnoses to be throwing at a teenager already carrying around the baggage life has thrust upon her back. I tried medication after medication and talk therapy after talk therapy session. Until at the end, I just decided to go to college and figure it out on my own. And it’s taken me until today to get to where I am now (funny how that works isn’t it?) and I know I will struggle with this whole “I just don’t exactly fit” thing for probably the rest of my life. But after 33 years, I’m ok with that. Truly. I’ve made peace with my own odd-duckness and I even have days when I embrace it with gratitude.

And then I try this experiment with writing fiction and a whole bunch of crazy comes streaming out of my head. Crazy characters, crazy stories, crazy self-doubt. A whole bunch of crazy that I had no idea was there. And it freaked me out a bit. To the point where I’ve been holding back in the stories, second guessing myself and my readers. Which is not really the point of this writing project is it? The point is to push my own boundaries, to make myself grow as a writer in ways that I simply can’t do other than by doing what I’m afraid of. It’s gotten to the point where I can more easily talk about my mental health history than to let a femme fatale serial killer have free reign in a story, how silly is that?

Well. Not anymore. The filter is coming off.

Whack Job Status

2010-02-04T18:21:00.001-07:00

Well, I spent all day working on this week’s story for 52 in 52 and I’m fairly sure that this will seal the deal with my readers thinking I’m a complete whack job. Believe me when I say that I truly had no idea I was going to be drawn to writing these kinds of stories. I really thought I’d be writing these in-depth stories about the human condition, hell, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I started writing sappy love stories and romances. Those would make more sense than the crazy thrillers I’ve been writing the past several weeks.

Instead I’m writing about a bank robber who can eat the money he steals only to have it cut out of him later, and a nightmare coma experience and now a black widow serial killer. Where is this stuff coming from?!? As I’ve stated over and over again, I do not read these kinds of stories. I’ve never read these kinds of stories. I can’t even watch these kinds of movies most of the time. I’ve never been able to. While my mom relishes in Stephen King books and all of my friends adore horror movies, I’ve always shied away from them and loudly cursed when my favorite actors take roles in movies that I know I won’t be able to watch.

My imagination has always been worse than what I could read or watch you see. Gremlins gave me nightmares for months. The People under the Stairs had me so jittery I honestly thought there might be something wrong with me. And my dreams took the fairly benign story of Hearts in Atlantis to a place Mr. King never imagined. See I don’t really need the help coming up with big, bad nasties to populate my dreams. I do just fine on my own without any inspiration.

So it’s amazing to me that I can write these stories. Spend all week planning them out; thinking through the intricacies of character and story. Because I’ve not had a nightmare yet. My dreams have become more vivid to be sure, but I’m sleeping just fine for the most part.

What a crazy creative journey I’ve begun.

2/3/10 - This Parenting Thing Keeps Getting More Complicated

2010-02-04T18:20:00.001-07:00

So, in the last week and a half, The Boy has taken first prize in his science fair, gotten 35 out of 50 words right in his class spelling bee and had four notes about his behavior sent home. I’m totally the proud mama on the first two and completely bewildered by the last one. He’s never been a behavior problem in any of his classes since he was two years old and bit one of his preschool classmates so hard he drew blood. Ever since then, he’s pretty much been an easy going kid. Even if he occasionally does have trouble staying in his seat or not chattering in between lessons. But that’s totally age appropriate, expected stuff and it’s never been a problem.

Now all of a sudden, it’s a problem. So I sat down with him tonight to talk it out. Determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. Because, maddeningly, the only thing the teacher actually said was “He is having trouble making good choices in PE and my classroom.” Which doesn’t tell me a whole hell of a lot. And actually served to piss me off more than anything. But The Boy and I sat down anyway. It turns out that he’s having trouble with a boy in his class constantly pushing and hitting him and then telling the teachers that he started it. Hence The Boy getting into trouble with the “making bad choices.”

I had several emotions immediately rise to the surface upon hearing this news. The first of which was rage. Rage at this boy for bullying my son and rage at this school for allowing it to happen right under their noses. Also rage at the teachers for taking one kid’s word over another without doing any further investigation. And absolute sadness that my sweet, super sensitive boy was having to endure this at such a young age. As The Boy crumbled into tears in my arms after finally getting this out, I was overcome with wanting to protect him from every cruelty in the world.

Which I can’t do obviously. But I sure as hell will write his teacher a stern email.

2/2/10 - Time Flies...

2010-02-03T11:48:00.002-07:00

Oh, hello! It’s February! Wait, what?!? How can it possibly be February already?!? That means Valentine’s Day is only two weeks away. That means that March is really just right around the corner since February feels like such a short month. That means it is time to start researching summer activities for the kiddos. That means it is time to register them for spring sports.

I just can’t figure out how it is already February. I feel like it was just Christmas. And since it is February, that means it’s been 3 months since my dad was diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer. He’s still with us, although his pain seems to be increasing on an almost daily basis. And we are all still dealing with the depth (and ramifications) of our own personal levels of denial and anger. And I’ve decided to stop fighting being such a mess and just be a mess. I have a right to be a mess! My dad is dying and my family’s financial health is utterly fucked up! It’s ok to be a mess right now. I can stop apologizing for it, I can stop denying it, I can stop pretending. It’s ok, it is, and it’s not my job to judge its relevance or convenience. It’s my job to just be with it and see what’s there. Right? Maybe I should write that on a post-it and put it on my bathroom mirror. Or, on the box of Swiss Rolls I’m currently BFF’s with.

On a lighter note, February brings with it LOST! The season premier of LOST is on tonight and I’m going to a friend’s house to watch it. This friend also happens to be the person who cuts my hair, so I’m sort of hoping (although not even remotely expecting) her to take pity on me and cut my hair while I’m there. But mostly it will be good to see a friend, have yummy dinner (I am making my famous curry pasta salad), a few cocktails and yell at the TV screen together. Anything else is just bonus.

I get a night off from cooking and my day job, that’s enough for today.

2/1/10 - Project Time!

2010-02-03T11:33:00.001-07:00

So. My head is a mess. What am I doing about it? Diving head first into a project of course! I’ve decided that one of my biggest problems with writing lately is that I’m finding myself drawn to writing stories I don’t typically read, so I don’t really know how it’s done, so to speak. So I’m probing all of my friends for their best recommendations in the mystery/thriller/suspense and sci-fi/fantasy genres. And it turns out that I’m not nearly as well read as I once thought I was, which has put a decent sized dent in my ego, I’ll tell you what. I mean I knew I had pretty huge holes in the classics, but other than that I was really pretty sure that I was relatively well read. Yeah. Not so much. There are two entire genres that I’ve pretty much missed out on altogether.

Well, problem recognized and now on its way to be fully rectified. I have a new reading list easily 3 dozen books deep and I would love to just take a couple of weeks and do nothing but read. I’d love to just relish in the feeling that reading something new and wonderful gives and then have the time and mental space to do nothing but fully engage in the host of ideas these newly discovered stories bring with them. Unfortunately, I can’t quit my day job for two weeks of nothing but reading and writing. I think they call that child neglect. Ahem.

So I will just continue on with my research and read whenever I can, in amidst all of the other day to day stuff on my to do list, like making sure to feed my family occasionally. And not completely ignoring The Girl in her pleas to play and you know, make eye contact.

I’m really excited to delve into this new world. Although it will require me getting reacquainted with a little thing called the library, which I know the kids will love. I’m embarrassed to say it has been a while since I’ve actually used our local library.

So it’s newness all around, what better refuge from the mess in my head?

Winter X Games

2010-01-31T15:03:00.000-07:00

It’s Winter X Games time again!! I love the X Games. This year has a bit of a different feel to it since the Olympics start in two weeks, but it’s sort of like a preview to portions of the Olympics since all the members of the snowboard and skiing teams are competing this weekend in Aspen. Of course there are also painful elements of the proximity to the Olympics in that the possibility of injury has vastly huger consequences and the injuries that do happen could be catastrophic for the various national teams in Vancouver.

Like Torah Bright having to withdraw because of a concussion during a practice run, or the spill that Shawn White took where he hit the lip of the half pipe so hard with this chin that it popped his helmet off. Or the Austrian team member who wiped out during the men’s snowboard cross and ended up with a concussion, broken ribs and a chest contusion. It was brutal.

But even with the wipeouts it is just so much fun to watch all of these athletes go balls to the wall and see what they can do.

Except for one thing. I do not for the life of me understand why the expectations are so much lower for the women in almost every single sport. I mean is it because women are typically smaller and so don’t get as much momentum and thus as much speed? Or is it that they aren’t as strong? Or is it just that the women haven’t pushed themselves to attempt the level of tricks the men are doing? If it’s one of the first two, fine, I don’t much like it, but there’s not much to do about it really. If it’s the last one however, that is just silly. I mean seriously? I think it’s probably the most apparent in the snowboard half pipe than just about anything else. Shawn White was getting up to 22 feet above the walls, while Kelly Clark was only getting up to about 14 feet. And there was only one woman attempting to do more than just a 900 for tricks. What is up with that?

1/30/10 - Reading About Dragons

2010-01-31T14:27:00.001-07:00

After I made my way through The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings the first time, my mom handed me the first book in the Dragonriders of Pern series. I read the first chapter and never picked it up again. I think maybe it was a cross between being burned out on having to work so hard on what I was reading and the fact that Anne McCaffrey wrote the first book in 1968 and so the language was quite a bit more complicated than what I was used to. Either way, I was totally lost and didn’t really give them much thought after that.

But with my writing project on 52 in 52, I am finding that I’m drawn to writing stories that are pretty much outside the typical genre that I choose to read. So, I’m making an effort to start reading in the sci-fi/fantasy and mystery/suspense realms so I can hopefully get a bit more familiar with story flow and language.

So I picked up Dragonflight a couple of days ago to give it another run. I had to struggle a bit through the first chapter as she just jumps right into the story without giving much explanation so I had this overarching feeling of just being utterly lost, but I kept going and finished the book today. And I loved it. I mean, the names she chose for her characters are great fodder for making fun (F’lar, S’lel, mnemnenth – I mean, seriously?) but despite the goofy names, I totally got sucked in. And what I think I loved the most about it was the language that gave me such trouble the first time I picked it up. The flow of her writing is just so gorgeous. She obviously relishes in the words she chooses to tell her story (which is probably a good thing since it balances out the fact that the story itself is riddled with dragon sized holes).

I’m enamored enough with the characters to pick up the next book and then I’ll pick up Ray Bradbury’s Dandelion Wine and a few of Neil Gaiman’s. I’m looking forward to it.

But I really need good mystery/suspense recommendations…hint, hint…

Doh!

2010-01-29T22:06:00.000-07:00

The Girl is channeling Homer Simpson. Seriously. She’ll do anything, climb anything, say anything to get donuts. We don’t have them around very often, but when they’re on sale I’ll splurge sometimes and get a box. And The Girl has climbed the shelves in our large closet pantry. She has pulled a chair over to the fridge and climbed the shelves to get them from on top of the fridge. She has climbed on top of the counter and climbed the shelves in our glasses cupboard to get them. It’s an insane obsession. And totally Homer Simpson. Donuts are the only thing she does this for. She will sit and eat them until she’s sick. And then when she can’t eat anymore, she takes the remnants of whatever may be left and hides them in various little cubby holes she has around the house.

Probably the funniest thing about it is that she’s so innocent about the whole thing. I mean I have these images of her in my head of sitting on the counter in our kitchen furiously shoveling donuts into her little mouth as fast as she can, eyes darting towards the door preparing to be caught. But in reality, she comes out of the kitchen, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with her sleeves, smiling sweetly, smacking her lips in the most ladylike way as if she just had a light snack of cucumber sandwiches. But when I go to count how many donuts she just managed to inhale, the number is usually somewhere between 2 and 4. She doesn’t even eat pizza with that much gusto. Even The Boy thinks she’s crazy for her donut obsession.

I guess I should be glad that our favorite kind of donuts don’t go on sale very often otherwise my husband and I would have to put them under lock and key. Oh wait, we already have. Our oven door locks (as a childproofing feature) and as she was stymied by this fact this morning, she got revenge by emptying out my jar of kosher salt I use when I cook, all over the dog beds. You just don’t screw with a girl’s donuts.

Science Fair, Baby!

2010-01-28T22:13:00.001-07:00

The Boy won first place for his age group in his school’s science fair today! I’m so proud of him I can hardly stand it! He and his class partner chose to study water, space and sound. They came up with an experiment where they studied the effect that different levels of water have on the space they are in. So they filled different receptacles with water in different levels and then blew the same speed of air across the top of the receptacles and recorded the difference in sound. Basically they took the old game of blowing across the top of a bottle and making it whistle and turned it into a science experiment. But if you break it down like that and build in the fact that they had to do the scientific method throughout their experiment, it’s fairly sophisticated for a first grader in my opinion.

I mean we weren’t even doing science fairs when I was in first grade. We didn’t start school science fairs until I was in 5^th grade and my experiment was seeing if I could train a goldfish to come to the side of the bowl by tapping on the outside of the bowl and then rewarding the fish with food. All I ended up proving is that if you tap on the side of a fish bowl enough times, the goldfish gives up and dies. Ahem.

I’m a proud mama today. My Boy just astounds me. I mean he can pull this sort of thing off on the same day his teacher sends home a note saying that he has spent the last three days being in trouble for talking and/or not being able to sit still during class. He’s like this whirling dervish of brilliance. He spins and spins and spins but when he does sit still he pulls off these amazing things.

I wonder if he’ll ever learn (or want to learn) how to temper that kinetic energy that pulses through him every minute of every day. Or if he will learn how to make it his ally and fuel all of these moments of brilliance. I don’t know, but I’m a proud mama.

Stuck

2010-01-27T22:16:00.001-07:00

I wrestled with this week’s story all day long. I am not even kidding. I started completely over three times. I’ve just got this idea, from another dream I had, that I can see and feel so clearly and I cannot figure out how to translate it into the story that it already is. I feel like I am trying to compose in a different language or something, that’s the kind of disconnect I’ve got going on. I am fairly sure that I’m totally over thinking the whole thing and thus making it much more complicated than it actually needs to be. And I think I’ve got myself in some kind of self sabotage brain loop to boot, i.e. the genre that this particular story falls in is way out of my typical comfort zone, so because I don’t know this genre very well it makes sense that I can’t find my voice within it. And while I think there is probably something to that theory, I also think it is a big mind fuck to explain my inability to write the way I want to. Either way, it’s infuriating. The good news is that I finally finished a draft that I didn’t want to immediately erase. The bad news is that there is a very good chance that I will wake up tomorrow, re-read it and immediately want to erase all of it. Which means I would be starting all over again on the day of my deadline. It’s all quite maddening really.

But I am going to try to put my mind down and walk away before I re-read it tomorrow and hopefully I’ll be able to lend an objective eye to the piece and either know there are big problems with it, fix what I can and publish it anyway or just give up and publish it anyway. Either way, I will be publishing something tomorrow. I just hope I don’t cringe when I do it.

There are 48 more stories to tell this year, I’m sure this will not be the last time I get stuck, I just hope I figure out how to deal with it better the next time.

Wall

2010-01-26T19:25:00.000-07:00

Ok, so apparently I’ve lost my mind. Or hit a wall. Or something. Because it appears that my current options are either crying mess or harpy. Lovely. Exactly how I wanted to kick off my week! I just cannot seem to pull it together. I’m trying to just be, as uncomfortable as it may be, in the hopes that all of this will just work itself out and I can go back to my own version of functionality. Because bursting into tears every time someone asks how I am is just not acceptable. And neither is screaming at my children just because they happen to be breathing in my general vicinity. I’m being ridiculous.

People keep telling me that I need to refuel myself so that I can keep being strong. And while there is definitely part of me that would like to take that advice and would definitely like to go back to being strong, the me that is right now just laughs and throws dirty looks when I hear that advice. Because right now it feels like it would take years to refuel. That laying on a beach with no responsibilities, no expectations, no nothing for several months straight would do nothing but scratch the surface. And there is no part of me that feels strong right now. I feel like I could very well disintegrate on the spot. Like a stiff wind could just blow the pieces of me away like brittle leaves.

And I wish I could say that I was being dramatic. But that’s how I feel right now, brittle and hollow. And that just really sucks. Mostly because it came out of nowhere. I was doing so well! I mean, yes, I’ve had a couple of crabby days and a bunch of rollercoaster riding, but I never expected anything like this. To just be laid flat with grief and stress before my dad actually died. I don’t know what to do with this. But I’d like for it go away now. I’ll click my heels, wrinkle my nose, apparate, Calgon take me away, whatever it takes I’m more than willing to try. Just no more crying or yelling please.

On the Edge of Panic

2010-01-25T22:34:00.002-07:00

We’re home again. And I am really, really crabby for some reason this evening. The drive was fine. The roads were, by and large, fine. I got to listen to a good portion of the awesome CD’s that D made for me. But I got home and The Boy was just bouncing off the walls hyper and full of attitude. And my husband told me about he had to call his parents and ask for money because we couldn’t make our car payment this month. And even though they, of course, graciously offered to help us out, I was mortified that he had to call and ask (their generosity has known no bounds the last few months but it’s one thing to have them send us money because they want to and an entirely other thing to ask for it outright). And I know the reason we can’t make our car payment this month is because of things like me driving back and forth between my parents’ house and home, having a powerful need to eat (can you name the movie?) and unfortunately needing things like shampoo all at once. It’s ridiculous that things like gas and groceries can screw up our entire budget. This whole awful bankruptcy process was supposed to make this better and instead we are still in dire straits. And I feel like I’m inches away from just succumbing to this state of panic and coming apart at the seams. Panic about my dad, panic about our finances, panic about what my mom will do after my dad goes…

And I have this idea for this week’s 52 story but I can’t quite get a handle on it enough to actually write it out. It centers on a woman who gets caught in this sort of dream loop/jump, popping from one dream to another without any control, rhyme or reason. I won’t spoil the end for you, but if I can get it all to work out on paper it could be pretty cool. If not then I don’t know what I’ll do this week, but hopefully I’ll come up with something.

Hopefully some quiet time tomorrow will lend some focus.

1/24/10 - Awe and Shock

2010-01-25T22:21:00.000-07:00

Oh Peyton Manning, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways…

My Colts are in the Superbowl!!! And they are playing the Saints, so it should be an awesome game. It thrills me to no end to have the two top ranked teams in the NFL actually playing in the Superbowl instead of one really awesome team and one team that finally remembered how to play football just in time for the playoffs. I am really sad for Brett Favre though. I really would have loved to see the Vikings make it to the Superbowl and it would have been equally fun to watch Brett and Peyton go toe to toe. But alas and alack Brett got hurt and was unable to hold the team together long enough to pull out the game. They were both still good games and it made for a nice day of watching football with my dad.

And that is pretty much all I did today. Watch football. Well, and I pulled together dinner from a bunch of leftovers for us all, but that’s about it. Which was actually a really nice change of pace, to just do nothing that is.

The Girl and I are heading home tomorrow. I’m looking forward to being in my own bed again, having more than two pairs of pants from which to choose and having some alone time while The Girl is in school this week (I have yet to start on my story for 52 this week, eek!). But I am also nervous, again, about leaving my dad. Seeing him after being gone for two weeks was a bit of a shock. He’s losing weight, and not just water weight, he’s starting to look frail. He’s moving incredibly slowly and I can tell that he is now in pain, regardless of how much he tries to brush it off or make light of it. And so now I am nervous to leave. Because I don’t know what I’ll see the next time I see him. It’s amazing to me how this whole process can just keep getting harder. How the little things can still knock the wind out of me.

Food and Writing

2010-01-23T15:44:00.000-07:00

Ah, civilization, how I have missed thee! Ok, that’s being dramatic. We’ve only been snowed in for a couple of days, but I’ve been completely computer and phone free during those days which almost NEVER happens, so it feels like longer. I half expected to get on the computer today to discover The Boy had started college and all of my friends were moving to Florida to retire. Instead it’s only been a couple of days and life has just kept on keeping on while I’ve been away.

My mom took The Girl and me out to lunch today at a new Greek restaurant in Farmington. And it’s the funniest thing to see how people react in this town not only to a new restaurant, but more so to a new “ethnic” restaurant. The place was packed with people oohing and ahhing over the food and the décor and, and, and! It just cracks me up. But it was yummy, and a lovely change of pace from the typical restaurant fare in town. The service was good, although I really wish cute boy servers would pay attention to the fact that all of their cutesy little one liners that they use on most patrons really only work if the customers next to your other table don’t hear you use them on someone else first. Again, it just cracks me up.

And today is my parent’s 39^th wedding anniversary. Although since they’ve been together for 41 years and this will be their last anniversary together, they’re splitting the difference and just calling it their 40^th anniversary. Seems fair to me. So I’m making them the dinner of their choice (linguine with clam sauce and Caesar salad) and another friend of theirs made them a cherry pie for dessert. So once again, we’ll at least have good food and good company if nothing else.

I’m fretting a wee bit about my story for this week. Last week’s story came so easily and has so much potential, but this week, I’m waiting for inspiration to hit. Hopefully it hits sometime soon. This challenge is proving to be a lot of fun, when I don’t have to force it.

1-22-10 - Snowed In

2010-01-23T15:23:00.001-07:00

Here’s what I woke up to this morning: The Girl happy, healthy and apparently completely back to normal – YEA!! My dad with bright, well rested eyes despite the road rash – YEA!! More bloody snow – BOO!!

Jiminy Christmas, I had no idea this much snow was in the wings for this trip. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have come if I had known. And at this point, it’s not even really the amount of snow so much as it is the fact that it’s the wettest, heaviest snow I think I may have ever seen. If the temperatures drop, it’s going to become one big skating rink in the Four Corners area. It’s ridiculous.

But if we have to be snowed in, at least we’re snowed in with good food, lots of booze and awesome friends. Even if we don’t have internet, getting the cars out to go anywhere is a chore and a half and the phone lines are only sort of working. Being snowed in, in the middle of nowhere New Mexico is not nearly as much fun as being snowed in at home. But I’ll take it.

The Girl has everyone securely wrapped around her little finger it seems, and they’re almost completely willing to remain there. It’s pretty cute actually. And they all taught me how to play Canasta tonight. There’s a game I never thought I’d learn until I was on a diet of Jell-O and tapioca pudding. But it’s actually really fun. Especially when your partner is a university professor who takes it upon himself to provide you with a detailed rundown of just about every single strategy you could possibly think of, as well as all the rules. Mom and I played two handed after everyone else went to bed for a bit, but it just wasn’t the same. Maybe it was the quiet house, but I think we probably just don’t know all the rules for this particular configuration.

Everyone but me and The Girl go home tomorrow. And I’m going to be really sad to see them leave. These people are as much family to me as my mom and dad are. Maybe it will keep snowing…

1/21/10 - Blizzard

2010-01-23T15:11:00.000-07:00

Holy shit ton of snow Batman!! I just spent the last 8.5 hours driving down to my parents’ house. The drive usually takes me just over 5 hours. But just shy of about halfway there I ran into a gigantic freaking blizzard and I never really came out of it. Over a couple of the passes I was putting down fresh tire marks in the undisturbed snow. I was struggling to just figure out how to stay on the road because the landscape was just one huge, consistent swath of white in front of me with no demarcation of where the road ended and the plunging drop to my death began. It was fun.

But we arrived, finally, safe and sound at my parents’ house to everyone worrying and waiting for our arrival. The Girl and I got out of the car, unloaded our stuff and started to get settled in when she abruptly went all whiny and fussy. She spiked a fever out of nowhere and was suddenly just not at all feeling good. I was pretty sure another febrile seizure was on the way with how she was acting, but I managed to get some Motrin down her throat and then she just feel asleep. So I am hoping it was just some weird little bug she picked up somewhere that is gone by morning. I really don’t want to deal with a super sick kiddo when we’re snowed in and I definitely don’t want a super sick kiddo around my dad.

Oh, and my dad. My dad fell on his face right before I arrived trying to carry in a bag of pellets by himself. I could just kick him. With all of these people around and he ends up slipping on the snow and going down. Now he looks like he has road rash across the top half of his face. But what can you do, right?

So I am now going to attempt to settle in with a glass of wine and enjoy the lovely company of our oldest and most loved family friends. I’m so glad they’re here. And I’m so glad to finally be out of the car!

Preparing to Travel Again

2010-01-20T21:31:00.002-07:00

The Girl and I are headed back to my parents’ house tomorrow. The mountains pretty much all the way through are expecting a large snow storm tonight and tomorrow, which has me a wee bit worried. As well as the fact that the past couple of days every time I mention heading back to Nana and Papa’s, The Girl starts crying. That’s no good. I know it doesn’t really have anything to do with Nana and Papa. It has to do with her missing more school, missing her brother and dad and being away from her own space and stuff. I get it. We’re both starting to feel a little bit like refugees at this point I think. But this weekend is my parents’ wedding anniversary and I promised that we would help them celebrate since it will be their last. And several of our oldest family friends arrived to their house today as well. These are people that I grew up with, absolutely adore and am really looking forward to seeing. But I’m in no way shape or form ready to battle icy and snow packed roads.

So I’ll have to check the weather again in the morning to see what I’m up against. Right now all it says is “ice.” But overnight might change that for the better. And I think that as long as my dad is still doing ok when I get there I think The Girl and I will head home again early next week. I’m grateful for the chance we’ve had to spend so much time with my parents, but at the same time, I’ve got to work towards striking a better balance between them and my home. I don’t want anyone to feel neglected, and I’ve got a responsibility all the way around to be present and take care of the people I love.

Ever the search for balance. It follows me everywhere it seems. Always work ahead of me. Rightfully I suppose. And there is a part of me that is deeply grateful for the continued opportunity to keep learning. But mostly, right now, I’d rather have a cabana boy delivering me umbrella drinks on the beach.

My Blue-Eyed Boy

2010-01-19T22:15:00.000-07:00

My husband told me a story about a 2^nd grade girl tackling my son so that she could kiss him goodbye as he was leaving school for the day. And I just about came unglued. I am SO not ready for those kinds of stories.

I always thought I’d be the super cool mom. The one everyone loves. The one that my kids’ friends will come to when their own uncool parents do something, well, uncool. The one who is easy to talk to, totally laid back and fun. Yeah, my hopes for being that mom are fading quickly. Because the idea of any girl (especially an older one!) kissing MY boy seriously makes me feel unstable.

Maybe because he is my first born, or maybe because I’m the mom and he’s my son. I don’t where this sudden rush of over-protective behavior is coming from, but it’s strong. Like mama bear strong. I’m sure that this same feeling will kick in eventually with The Girl, but she’s still so young that it’s not even on my radar yet. And to be honest, it wasn’t on my radar with The Boy either until my husband shared this story with me.

I mean I always knew he’d be popular with the girls eventually. He has gorgeous blue eyes, he’s outgoing, smart, creative, funny and naturally athletic. All of those elements put together make for one very popular boy receiving many “Do you like me? Check Yes, No or Maybe” notes in class. I saw it coming a long time ago. But I didn’t think I’d actually have to see or hear any of it in reality until he was at least in early middle school. I guess that was a large piece of naïveté on my part. I guess I forgot about the times when I was a second grader pegging the cute boys in class with snowballs and then running away giggling. I guess I forgot how many of those notes I wrote myself to the blue-eyed boys in my own class.

I’d like to freeze time. To put this off a bit longer. Or at least be allowed to lock him in the attic.

Shower Time

2010-01-18T22:20:00.000-07:00

In my early months as a new mother, at the top of my list of concerns was how to get a shower every day. The Boy wouldn’t really let me put him down much and he hated the swing. So I spent good portions of my day finagling time and space to take a shower as it was the one thing I was utterly unwilling to give up. Having a clean house? Meh. Getting errands done? Who cares really. Staying caught up on laundry? I can wear jeans more than twice. But even if I was in dirty clothes and never got to do my hair or get on deodorant, I was hell bent on taking a shower every single day.

I kept the same priorities when The Girl came along. Although she was much more agreeable and loved the swing. She was generally pretty easy going and willing to just go with the flow. So taking a shower wasn’t ever really all that hard.

Until now. Now she insists on taking a shower with me. Every. Single. Day. Which isn’t really a huge deal except for the fact that she plays directly underneath my feet. And I just know that one of these days I’m going to accidentally step on her, over correct and end up falling in the shower and breaking a hip. It’s completely infuriating. And it also means that I don’t even get those 10 minutes without her in my shadow. But really? The problem is me falling and breaking a hip.

The Girl would stay in the shower all day long if I’d let her. As long as the water stayed warm, I’m fairly sure she would play happily under the water until I forced her out from underneath the waterfall. She babbles on to herself as I’m brushing my teeth, doing my hair, and finally getting on my deodorant. She concocts elaborate scenarios that often require singing.

And I still have to occupy The Boy so I can take a shower. Keep him busy and distracted, not to mention threatening him with everything I can think of to prevent him from flushing the toilet while I’m in the shower.

Glitz and Glamour Overshadowed

2010-01-17T22:17:00.001-07:00

Let the awards season begin! I love awards season. This time last year I wrote about how much I love to be a peeping tom on the glitz and glamour of the whole thing. About how much I loved the fancy dresses and the women dripping in diamonds. And that still holds true.

Except for two things. The first is that there just doesn’t seem to be very many “serious” movies this year. There is The Hurt Locker and Precious which both look amazing, but other than that, there’s Avatar, Nine, 500 Days of Summer and Invictus pretty much. Of those, Precious and The Hurt Locker are what I would consider “typical” Oscar nominated films. The others are comparably fluffy. I just think it’s interesting. It just wasn’t really a year for heavy movies. And if the Golden Globes were any preview (which they often are) Avatar is going to make a clean sweep.

The second is that the whole thing, all of the excess and typical joy and over the top-ness of the award season is currently being vastly overshadowed by the earthquake in Haiti. I haven’t written much about the earthquake because, really, what is there to say? It’s a horrific situation for this country that simply cannot catch a break. It’s heartbreaking and just to think about it makes me want to cry. And there’s not a damn thing I can do about any of it because we can’t even afford to buy carrots right now, let alone make a donation to the Red Cross. So all I can do is try to keep all of those people, all of those children, in my heart and thoughts and fervently wish that someone steps in to take care of these people whose entire lives are beset with tragedy.

Mo’nique was so sweet and honest when she won for her role in Precious, Sandra Bullock looked gorgeous, Kate Winslet looked simply overjoyed to no longer be in the spotlight, Jason Reitman has got to be one of the nicest (and most talented) people in the business right now and George Clooney should be kicked in the shins for hiding his face with that beard.

Return of a Good Day

2010-01-16T21:34:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning from a very strange dream. My first thought was just a simple “huh, that was weird.” And then I started thinking about it more and as I looked further into the dream I thought, “Huh, that would make a pretty cool story.” Still having some of the remnants of my crisis of writing confidence left over from yesterday’s day from hell, I continued to just lay there and almost fell back asleep. But finally the images in my head were so vivid that I got out of bed, got a cup of coffee and turned on my computer. I wrote a 5 page short story quicker than I ever would have thought possible.

I know I said I was going to focus on flash fiction and minute fiction, but this just came. And it was situation oriented; the characters didn’t solidify until I was halfway through the story. I still don’t know if they make sense, I wrote until I was done and then closed the document and I won’t open it back up to read over until at least Monday.

So, all in all, that was a wonderful way to start my day today. And overall, I’m in a vastly better space than I was yesterday. The peace has returned and I had a lovely day hanging out talking music this morning with my husband and then watching football this afternoon and listening to The Girl play with one of her neighborhood friends while The Boy was across the street having some non-little-sister interrupted time with his own friends.

It was a good day, and utterly refreshing to get out of my head and out of the swamp. It started with a story full of energy and is ending with my Colts winning their first playoff game, where they not only won but completely dominated the Ravens. It was gorgeous. I just really love to watch Peyton Manning play football.

Tomorrow I get to have lunch with dearest J and sweetest D. D and I are planning a music swap which I’m much looking forward to and it will be a lovely note on which to start the week.