Adventures in Heroing

Stand Corrected

2008-12-21T22:44:00.001-05:00

Not 5 minutes after posting my rant, he showed up. Guess that's what Christina's talking about when she sings "Some days I'm a super bitch..."

Welcome back Hero

2008-12-21T11:49:00.002-05:00

Ok, sigh....

I've been away, far far away, for quite some time and I've debated with a heavy heart as to whether or not coming back her was a good idea. But I continually get suggestions from people that love me that it I probably need it. So I'm going to venture back here in the hopes of sorting through some of the craziness of my life. I probably won't be able to keep my language as clean as I'd attempted before. I just can't see how that will be possible so please forgive the profound influx of potty mouth that comes with my return. Also, a lot of what I'll be talking about here will be experiences that will no doubt compel the people that love me the most (aka my readers) to want to suggest solutions for me and I need to go on record right up front by saying: Thank you but there is no solution. It is what it is and I'm writing to just get. it. out.

Back in May, TB, Bam-Bam and I moved in with TB's parents. His mom is 71 and has had a couple of strokes. His dad is almost 87 and is so far from Mother Theresa that the Grand Canyon would look like a crack in cement. TB's older brother has been disabled for over 30 years and lives with them. The day-to-day stuff just got to be too much for them so the decision was made that we'd move in to help out.

It has been a challenge.

A BIG challenge.

This blog started as a "mommy blog" to capture moments in our life that we could come back to and remember as the days pass. That will still be a part of it, I'm sure. But the focus will now be what it's like to be a mom, wife, and caregiver to the most dynamic group of people under one roof. Hold on to your onion, it could be a wild ride!

Yo Preacherman

2007-07-26T15:53:00.000-04:00

Here's my flashback...

My New Venture

2007-07-23T20:54:00.001-04:00

What would YOU die for?

2007-07-11T21:50:00.000-04:00

Ok, she got me so I'll give

2007-05-28T12:52:00.000-04:00

My 5 Favorite things right now, for Hunzer:

#1 - My Machine -
When I got to the end of the last PL blanket, I needed to sew an aspect to it which lead me to finding a place to do basic lessons close to home which lead to 8 weeks of sewing lessons on Monday nights which lead to making a couple of tote bags which which which....I love my machine and I love sewing A LOT!

#2 - Webkinz -
Sure, the purchase was for the boy, but their version of the tile game is ridiculously addicting AND it earns the boy points to buy stuff for Priklez. Now, if I just allowed him to get on and spend it....

#3 - The Satellite Radio -
In particular, the 80's channel, the 90's and Now AND Super Shuffle. O. M. G.

#4 - Claritin and Metformin -
One is for me and one is for the boy. They both work WONDERS!

#5 - Ben and Jerry's Steve Colbert Americone Dream Ice Cream -
Now, I don't know who Steve Colbert is and I don't really give a rat's ass. The ice cream is an orgasm in a cardboard cup! Seriously, if I could eat just this ice cream for the rest of my life, I'd die one happy woman!

Almost done

2007-03-08T19:17:00.000-05:00

I'm almost done the second PL blanket. I think I want to add some "silky taggies" sewn through a fairly large hole in each end of the triple-crochet rows. I haven't figured out the whole logistics of it yet but I'm getting there.

I've already bought the yarn for PL Project 3.

TallBoy asked when his was going to be done. I told him at 8' long and 5' wide, I'm overwhelmed whenever I pick his up and that he needs to cut me some slack 'cause it's going to take a while.

First Lesson

2007-02-27T07:47:00.000-05:00

I took my first official sewing lesson last night. The two other women who were supposed to take the class with me weren't able to make it so I had lesson one by myself.

We went over everything about the machine and the items in the tool kit such as the seam ripper, fabric pencil, and seam gauge. Then I did some lines on paper sans thread. Straight lines, boxes, slow curves, sharper curves and some circles. Keeping my machine going evenly will come in time but I did great on the lines, if I do say so myself.

Because the other women were out last night, they're going to do a make-up class next Monday and I'll take the week off then we'll get back together for week two the following Monday. In the mean time, I have some more lines to pierce here at home.

I'm on the road to quilting!

PL - Blanket #1

2007-02-03T20:41:00.000-05:00

I finished my first PL project tonight. Since PL donates to more than just small children in hospitals, this first project is bigger than I'd originally envisioned. It measures 43 long by 31 wide with three thread double crochets throughout. The three colors are Red Heart color 9627 Light Sage (#4 weight worsted plush), Red Heart color 9628 Dark Sage (#4 weight worsted plush) and Red Heart color 4601 Off White (#4 weight worsted soft yarn)*. The edging is Dark Sage done in a more lacey DC chain 2, skip 2 ch, repeat.

TallBoy is impressed with the heaviness of the blanket and has asked for one for himself in a 6' x 4' dimension in black and red colors.

We'll see.

*On this first project I did not keep track of how many skeins/how many ounces I used. I plan to keep better track of that going forward.

In pondering the blog

2007-01-29T21:10:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about what to do about my little spec on the internet. Originally I wanted this to be a place where I could really write. I think I've managed two really good pieces since the inception.

Many of the cohorts in the sidebar have things to post about: really great photography, really new babies, meeting celebrities, religious or political views (or both), etc. Me, I've got nothing. My life, in a nutshell, is wonderfully boring. I spend time with TallBoy and Bam-Bam, keeping the house clean and keeping the bills paid. That's about it.

Over the holidays, something really remarkable happened that has been hard to explain or define. We tend to live paycheck to paycheck without a heck of a lot of leeway. But, somehow, the more we did for other people (either by charity or within our own little group of needs), the more there was for us to do for us. With each donation or decision to help someone else, the amount in the account allowed for more special gifts between us.

In the month or so since, I've really been trying to redirect my energies, thoughts, efforts and time toward doing for others and waiting to see what happens. I do a little here and we have the money to replace our dying stove. I do a little there and we're able to buy some extras for the new muzzleloader I bought TallBoy for Christmas.

I've also been trying to teach myself to crochet (with the goal to eventually add knitting) and sew (with the goal to eventually add quilting) in the last few months. I did finish a lapghan for my sister, Songbird, as a Christmas gift which I was really proud of. And so, when an internet buddy of mine posted a link to this charity recently, I decided I was going to use my "training" for the new arts as a way to give back to others that are in such need.

I've also decided that I'm going to use my blog as a way to showcase my projects and donations.

You may still occasionally find me talking about other incidentals but I'm going to try to have my focus be the works I complete. This may call for a formatting overhaul but we'll see what happens.

Thanks for your continued visits and ticks on the sitemeter.

Loving this today

2007-01-21T20:26:00.000-05:00

In memory of:
Grampa
Pa
Uncle Jimmy
Barry Hillsgrove
Jeremiah Holmes

and in honor of:
Uncle Dan
Marty
Justin
Sarah
Scott D
Pat
Sonya
Rob
Mike
Ken
Stevie
and Jacob

And if there's anyone I've forgotten, I apologize, this is for you too.

Then, for tonight, we'll finish up with

2007-01-11T20:53:00.001-05:00

This one....

The Earworm Theme continues

2007-01-11T20:51:00.001-05:00

Moving on to this one....

Who's got the Gun?

2007-01-04T17:25:00.000-05:00

Because I can't get this freakin' thing out of my head!

Walking hand in hand

2006-12-29T14:09:00.000-05:00

As we started into the store from the car, I took his little hand in mine and told him that I love him.

"I know mom, I can feel it coming through your hand".

why the cocoon?

2006-11-10T14:11:00.000-05:00

Because of this. It's worth every second. Take the time, sit, relax, take it in.

This is me

2006-10-30T09:16:00.000-05:00

In thinking on the passage of time

2006-09-11T23:31:00.000-04:00

Dear Bam-Bam -

Since the day 5 years ago that several fanatical men took over four planes filled with innocent people and crashed them into important places around the country, I've struggled with what to tell you, how to explain it, how to retell my experience to you when the time came. I remember about a year and a half after the attacks, I was at a scrapbooking retreat finishing the book with your first year pictures in it. I felt then and have felt several times since that I needed to commit something to that book for you about that day.

The page remains empty.

Of course Amy says it so eloquently that I feel I should just plagiarism her entire entry and rewrite it for your book. But then, that's been done already. If I did that, though, you wouldn't feel anything from me in the words and as the one responsible for your past, present and future, I sit here with 27 minutes left of the anniversary trying to piece together something of substance, deep with feeling and meaning for you. Let's hope I don't come up short. Here goes...

Five years ago, I sat at my desk at Engineered Systems, probably updating the cashflow spreadsheet because, well, I was constantly updating the cashflow spreadsheet, when Chuck, Nana's son who was our assistant, said that MSNBC was reporting a plane crash into the World Trade Center building in New York City. Wow, I thought, how terrible. Then I thought, sheesh Chuck, stop surfing the net and get back to work (ha ha, sorry, moving on).

A few minutes passed and he started updating me more on what was happening.

The plane was large and the whole top of one of the towers was on fire.

A second plane had crashed into the other tower.

That plane was big too.

All airline travel was grounded.

Possible car bombs in Washington DC.

A third plane into the Pentagon.

A fourth plane into a field in Pennsylvania.

The news just kept coming at us, at live-feed level. Fear started to envelop everyone in the office.

Aunie called me sometime between 9:30 and 10:00 and as we spoke, the first tower collapsed. Aunie cried, sobbed actually, into the phone in disbelief. We stayed on the phone together until the second tower fell when she decided she needed to hang up. We told one another we loved each other.

I called daddy to tell him I was scared.

Grammy Honda checked in, Auntie Kim, Grammy Gee, Auntie Lisa. We all reached out to each other to say "I love you, we're going to be ok".

My friend, a firefighter, called and he talked about how the loss of the members of the FDNY was reminding him of the Worcester Cold Storage fire and that he was investigating ways to be sent to Ground Zero to help out. I remember that scaring me.

Throughout the rest of the day the underlying fear that grew in me was the question: "Is it over yet? Are we safe?"

I went and picked you up straight from work and remember that we wanted you to be able to sleep in our bed with us that night, to keep you "safe", but you were only 18 weeks old so we decided not to. Of course, the irony was that you didn't sleep with us because it wasn't "safe" for you to in our waterbed but we wanted you there to keep you "safe" from the outside. "Safe" had a whole new meaning.

The men that took over the planes that day had succeeded. They'd scared us all. They took away our feeling of security and innocence. They made it hard to move forward.

Major events were cancelled out of respect for the lost. An awards show, baseball games, Monday Night Football, the Loudon NASCAR race. We walked a fine line for quite a while in trying to determine when it would be ok, if ever, to get our lives back to normal. In saying we, I mean the collective national "we", not just the me, you and daddy kind of we.

Eventually, though, things slowly did return to what can only be called the New Normal. The New Normal included a new skyline for the city of New York. New regulations on what is and is not allowed in carry-on luggage on a flight. New shift in priorities. New uneasiness over whether we are ever really safe. Whether our government, no matter what person or party is in office, is really capable of keeping us completely safe. New reminders that it isn't about what religion you practice because every heart is capable of either loving or hating, it's the person that makes the choice.

In the months immediately following the attacks, our national leaders made the decision to move our troops into Afghanistan, a country in the Middle East, because they believed that the man that orchestrated the fanatical men that took over the planes and crashed them around the country lived there. As of today, five years later, they have not caught that man.

Subsequently, those same national leaders decided to send even MORE troops into Iraq on the implication that the man in charge of Iraq had something to do with the guy from Afghanistan leading the fanatical guys to take over the planes that crashed around the country. I can't say for sure, but I don't think they'll ever be able to say for certain if that guy in Iraq had anything to do with that guy from Afghanistan. Nonetheless, I now worry that 13 years from now, I'll need to send you to Canada instead of having you fill out a Selective Service card because I don't believe our troops will be out of Iraq by then. They caught that guy in Iraq but at the rate they're going, they may never be able to get their country running on their own, peaceful, and self-sustaining and if they can't do that then our country will more than likely need to reinstate the draft to keep the flow of men and women in and out of the country.

Now, five years later, we grieve not only the more than 2800 lives lost that day, but the families destroyed, the children growing up without one or both parents, the lives lost to the fighting in Iraq, the bodies damaged by the fighting in Iraq, the changes far and near as a result of the attacks that day. Some of the victims were local, like Thomas McGuinness from Portsmouth who was the co-pilot on Flight 11, the first plane hijacked and crashed that day. Or while at war in Iraq, Jeremiah "Jay" Holmes from North Berwick lost his life and left a little boy behind with no memories.

I will confess to you today, my boy, that I don't follow the news anymore. It's too difficult to get caught up in the semantics of why things happen the way they do. I liked my life before 9/11/01. I liked being naive. I liked not knowing and I feel that if I follow along too closely, it will only fuel my fear and debilitate me and for your sake as much as mine, I can't let that happen. I can only promise to do my best to keep you out of harms way. My struggle now is how to teach you that the world is as safe as we can hope for but never 100 percent tragedy-proof.

I love you my boy. You've been a nice distraction from the reality of the New Normal. Having you to focus on instead of the bad stuff and events has given me clarity. Even though we can never forget, never will forget, we also can't dwell on it either. I doubt any of the victims would want that for us. I believe, I have to believe, that they would want us to keep going because otherwise the men who did this to them will have won and I don't think any of us can let that happen.

I love you.
Mommy

Quote from 7:15 this morning

2006-09-05T07:51:00.000-04:00

"Mom, when I'm getting on the bus, I try really hard not to cry because of how much I'm going to miss you while I'm at school." - Bam-Bam, 5 years old.

For the second time in as many weeks

2006-09-04T15:32:00.000-04:00

I've been brought to tears looking out my front window.

Bam-Bam has been struggling, a lot, by not having anyone to play with here at home. It's been a long time since Songbird and the boys were here but lately its been blaringly evident that Bam-Bam is without someone to share time and toys with.

For me it's just another reminder of my infertility.

The situations that brought on the tear-jerking were similar. Two little girls, under, say, 10 years of age, walking down the road toward home. Bam-Bam was outside, the first time playing alone and today playing catch with daddy, and he asked them to join him on his new groovy swingset.

Both times the girls kept going on home.

Both times my boy stood, stoic, in the middle of the yard waiting for their return.

My heart just aches at the scene.

I promised him that I'd ask the parents at the bus stop for some phone numbers so that we can make some calls for visits on days like today. Days when his "only-childness" screams unfair. When neither TallBoy or the dogs are enough. When his toys lose their luster. When all he wants is someone to chat with, laugh with, share with.

I'm gonna get those phone numbers tomorrow. For him. And for my broken heart.

Cruel Joke

2006-08-31T23:39:00.000-04:00

Tonight as I was getting ready to head to bed for the night, I got my monthly Tony Robbins newletter and, right on its heels, my first business referral from HQ.

The referral gives the potential client's name, address, phone and e-mail address.

The name: bcbarnot cv zeful. (Can anyone translate this? Anagram? What?)

Now, I fully admit to being the service center clerk at Hannafords that took a call AND DID THE STORE-WIDE PAGE for Michael Hunt so when the name made absolutely no sense, my balloon lost some lift.

The address: 56 Dart Road which Mapquest says is not a road in town. Strike two.

The phone number: Using reverse look-up at Anywho, belongs to someone on Hall Road here in town but their name is nothing like what's "given" above.

The e-mail address: I sent a "thank you so much for contacting me, I'll be calling tomorrow to set up an appointment" e-mail only to have it bumped back to me.

It's not nice to play tricks on the girl fighting to get ahead in this business.

Question for the masses

2006-08-31T00:55:00.000-04:00

Why is it that even when I click the "Remember Me" box when signing into my MySpace account, it never remembers me?

Click It

2006-08-30T19:27:00.000-04:00

Even though I sought out the video below for Bam-Bam, the creator create it as a dedication to their friends so, click it.

And, he's off

2006-08-29T12:44:00.000-04:00

Dead Horse

2006-08-28T16:12:00.000-04:00

Since tomorrow is, well, tomorrow and since getting medicated has been mentioned here in Hero's Abode at least once in the last week, I'm gonna beat it...

Will he remember that I spent over an hour mixing, baking, frosting and decorating strawberry cupcakes in heart-shaped tins for his first day?

Will he remember that I spent 6 hours and went through two print cartridges trying to print a picture of he and daddy and one of he and mommy to go into his lunch box, just in case he gets insecure or sad?

Will he remember that he only wore his sneakers on Mondays all summer and that his feet were dirty all day every day AND had grown two and a half (from a 12 1/2 to a 2) sizes?

Will he remember that the night before school started I sat in the driveway trying to inflate the tires on his bike, that we had his favorite, pancakes, for dinner or that I got choked up reading The Kissing Hand again?

Will he remember that I was the one that trimmed his hair using the clippers?

Will he remember that we didn't really get to go school shopping because we really don't have the money?

Will he be strong enough to not be influenced by A-Rod, his tablemate, but instead help A-Rod to be a kinder, gentler kind of soul like he is?

Will he remember that he rides the "brown" bus, that we live on Blankshore Drive and, if they can't reach me, they can call Grammy and Papa and they'll be there in a flash too?

Will he remember that it took all of my willpower not to follow the bus all the way to school?

Will he remember that I panicked at the thought of oversleeping or sleeping through the alarm clock and he'd miss said bus and/or be late for his most exciting day?

Will he remember that we sat together in the green recliner and watched Charlotte's Web on HBO only up to the point where she writes "Some Pig" in the web because I wanted him in bed early?

Will he remember that Grammy Honda called him and told him she hopes he has just the best time at school?

Will he remember the giggle fit he had in Walmart yesterday and how the woman passing by us told me to foster that and never squelch it, as if I ever have?

Will he remember what it was like to be home with me all day every day, just the two of us?

Will I?

Will I be replaced by kids named Dylan or Jacob?

Will I miss him so terribly that I drive by school several times throughout the day hoping to catch a glimpse of him at recess?

Will I ever be able to convince people that I'm not nearly this neurotic, that I have friends and a life and stuff but this, this THING called school has me frozen with sadness?

Will my credibility ever recover from confessing this all for the world to see?

Like a freight train bearing down on me

2006-08-21T22:16:00.000-04:00

Next Tuesday Bam-Bam starts kindergarten.

My mouth is salivating with the gag that keeps recurring at the thought of it all. Riding the bus (hurl), trading lunch items, learning that all kids aren't always nice, possibly being bullied, having someone else tend to school yard injuries, AAAHHHHH STOP THE MADNESS!!

I distinctly remember the day when he was a mere six weeks old when I handed him over to Nana and flew off to work totally confident in the knowlege that someone else was going to care for and know my child more than I did. Back then, in my post-partum depressed haze, none of that phased me. I was totally cool with being a full-time working, part time mommy kind of gal. And, heck, I had secured a fantastic arrangement for us. His babysitter was a woman I'd known since I was 12, had considered a mom to me, and he was going to get one-on-one care. Awesome.

But, now? Now that the one-on-one care has been from ME directly for almost three years, the panic has set in. What if the few "little boy" things about him disappear? What if the other kids don't "get" his kindness, his wanting to be accepted, his easy-going way? What if his teacher forgets that he gets scared at loud noises and he gets lost in the shuffle during the fire drill? Or they aren't able to guide him out of other kid's personal space (something I've been trying to work on with him)? Or if he spends a whole day acting like a dog?

I want him to grow and learn and make all kinds of friends. I want him to be confident in his surroundings and learn to trust that the world is, for the most part, a safe place. I want him to expand his interests, try new things, have new experiences to come home and tell me about.

But at the same time, it makes me sad to know that I won't be able to see all those things happening for him first hand. It makes me sad to think that the world isn't fool-proof safe and that anyone he comes in contact with between the bus pick-up and the bus-drop off could harm him and it's just so hard to explain the threat without making him afraid.

The balance there makes me anxious yet, I don't want to pass that fearful anxiety on to him either. I don't want to rain on his parade. I WANT to be excited for him and with him. I do, I really do.

But, I want to stop time too.

Gotcha Last

2006-08-14T16:13:00.000-04:00

Battery recharge

2006-08-14T15:49:00.000-04:00

How is it that I have Three Scumbusters, Three VersaPak batteries, Two Versapak chargers and One dirty tub but I can't get any of that equipment to work?

Came home from vacation to:

2006-08-08T10:02:00.000-04:00

A quarter-gallon of sour milk.
No hazelnut coffee creamer.
Four new loads of laundry.
$80 for the week.
Inspiration from Dr. Shad Helmstetter.
A week old mopbucket of water.
A week old cereal bowl filled with water.
Moldy coffee grounds in the filter.
Moldy coffee in the pot.
Two areas of cat puke on the hardwood, one on the carpet.
Two toilets that lost half their water to evaporation.
One Arbonne shipment in the garage.
No pictures to share.
Several inspiring quotes from Erik Weihenmayer.
A house that smells like it was closed up for a week of 100 degree weather.
A peaceful easy feeling.
An even stronger family.

Yo, Shorty

2006-07-29T09:41:00.000-04:00

It's your birthday, is this how it's gonna be?

For my Florida Friend

2006-07-26T00:40:00.000-04:00

Since I haven't heard from you in the last couple of days, I'm assuming that within the next 24-48 hours, you will become a father. Whoa huh? The arrival of this day certainly wasn't something that either of us considered when this friendship began when I was 12 and you were 11. Heck, back then all I cared about was whether or not you were going to accidentally club me with your nunchucks.

You will soon discover, if you haven't already during the course of the pregnancy, that everyone has advice, opinions, protests to every single thing about childbirth and child rearing. And since I'm a full 5 years ahead of you and since I think it's fair to say we're close enough friends, I'm going to chime in with mine first.

There will come a day in the near future that you will stop, get choked up and possibly shed a tear in disbelief that your life is what it is. The dicotomy is that in some ways you will mourn what used to be but have an overflowing heart for what has become. You will do things, say things, feel things and believe things you never imagined possible, never dreamed be real.

When it comes to decisions concerning your little girl, don't ever waiver from what you believe in your heart to be best. There will be people, parents, priests, pediatricians that will all chime in with "the best thing" and whether by experience or education, everyone's an expert. Bottle or breast. Co-sleeping or crib. Cry-it-out or scoop-them-up. Belly sleeping or back sleeping. But, only YOU will truly KNOW your child. Only you will be able to hear the unspoken and know in the most indescribable ways what you're supposed to do. When you encounter an advisor, smile, nod, thank, move on. Always go with your gut.

Believe it or not, there will also come a day when all the "stuff" that has filled your calendar week after week pre-baby will have no power over the new daddy you. You'll still do them, occassionally, but they will lose their luster. In their place, you'll start participating in tea parties, bounce house birthday parties and ballet classes. You'll discover that walking through Home Depot holding the hand of a little princess dressed in her Cinderella gown, tiara and glass slippers (all draped over her yogurt stained t-shirt and a pair of jeans) really is the highlight of your weekend.

Remind yourself that every single stage is hard. You'll find yourself chanting: "This, too, shall pass. This, too, shall pass." It'll start with the sleep deprivation of the newborn. After that will come new teeth, the first day at daycare, crawling, solids, walking, mumbling, running, frustration over not being able to communicate, climbing, getting out of a crappy diaper by themselves, getting out of the crib by themselves, talking, potty training, the first day of preschool....the list goes on until they have their own children. Every transition and milestone is equally feared and celebrated. And with each one, you'll be trying to hold back the ticking of time, to keep her little, young, innocent, new.

I think it's also necessary to point out that the people you now know as Mom and Dad will not be the people that become Memere and Pepere tomorrow. The parents that forced you to eat all your vegetables will be the same ones to swipe her plate away from her AS YOU'RE TELLING HER TO FINISH ALL HER VEGETABLES. It's true, ask Kap. They will also suddenly have no qualms about all day snacking, having a candybar right before bed, staying up past bedtime, playing in puddles, and an innumeral amount of things you were never allowed to do. It comes with the territory. It's the Oz they've been waiting for since the days they were raising you. The relationship they build with her will be unique and wonderful albeit difficult to digest at times. My hope is that you are able to have your parents unconditional support in your decisions/choices/parenting as I have. I don't know what I'd do without them. Their confidence in my ability to parent is worth it's weight in whales.

When your mother-in-law comes by the third day after you leave the hospital and offers to watch your little one so you guys can go get dinner or go get nursing pads at Walmart or whatever, take her up on it, even if your first thought is to decline. And, when you come home to find her sleeping on the couch with your little one sleeping on her chest, take a picture. You'll both remember that exact moment each time you see the picture. While we're at it, the first time anyone (parents, in-laws, siblings whomever) offer to keep her overnight so you guys can do something special, do that too. It'll be a good thing for all of you. The best two gifts you'll ever give her are a happy mommy and daddy and a loving, involved extended family.

At least once a week, come home in time for dinner and offer to do the nightly bathtime. Blondie will absolutely LOVE you for it and it's such a great bonding experience. Remind her, though, that with everything, daddy's and mommy's do things differently and that neither method is wrong. In the beginning, watching TallBoy do anything with Bam-Bam be it baths, bottles, diapering, whatever, made my skin crawl because it wasn't the way I would do it. It took a little while but I soon realized that the end result was the same and that Bam-Bam adapted easily between the two of us and came to expect that things would be different from each of us. But he never doubted that we loved him beyond words.

If you're invited to an event and the host calls to tell you that someone else that will be there has a cold, go anyway. You're never going to keep her from ever getting sick, ever or, like, ever. Don't miss out on memories trying to make sure that never, ever, like, ever happens. Live! She may or may not get their cold as a result of being around them. Life is worth the risk.

Come up with your own quick-wit reply to: Are you disappointed she's not a boy? One that will put the asker on the floor in shame.

Find a saying that you have just between you and your little girl. With Bam-Bam, as I'm tucking him into bed I ask: "Who loves you more than me?" Find your own special thing too. She'll remember it always.

If she screams in the middle of the night and she's dry and fed, check to see if her toes are being squished into the footies of her footie pajamas.

It's ok if the lawn gets too long because you're rolling around on the floor with her.

Always have Tylenol, Hyland's Teething Tablets, and Vick's Vaporub on hand. Always.

Take pictures. Lots of pictures.

And if the first time she says Dada and is referring to YOU and not the remote control, the spoon or the carpet, it's ok if she sees you cry. She won't remember it.

Cry With Me

2006-07-18T19:31:00.000-04:00

You know you wanna.

A New Blog I'm In Love With

2006-07-14T19:26:00.000-04:00

The Shape of a Mother.

Go, surf, fall in love with me.

Wash Away My Iniquities

2006-07-11T12:37:00.000-04:00

I awoke this morning with the boon of a thunderstorm barreling toward the house. The morning was clouded over so dark I had to put the kitchen light on to get Bam-Bam his cereal. I wandered around the house for several minutes trying to wake as the rain began to fall.

Each clap of lightning rang as if from the anger inside me.
Each roll of thunder, the deep sadness.

I've been a timebomb lately and last night I exploded on TallBoy on the phone, while he was driving. He said I've been the way for a while now and he's been trying to listen, trying to let me do whatever it is I need to do, trying to understand but I just kept screaming that it wasn't enough. All I keep hearing is that I don't need to feel the way I'm feeling. That's not what he means, that's what I hear.

I'm angry and I can't quite figure out why.
I'm stressed and I completely know why but the reasons all seem bigger than they need to.
I'm sad and I know why for that too.
I'm tired and yet unable to sleep.

I cannot keep going like this. I'm hurting myself and TallBoy and that's the last thing I want or need. I need my head to quiet. I need my heart to heal. I need to sleep. I need to be held. I need to cry some more.

I've figured out that my tough-girl exterior has a hairline fracture and the insides of me have begun to pour out. TallBoy has no idea how to pool them up and save them before they float away.

Somebody pass the bondo please?

Injury Tracking: Incident #1

2006-07-09T10:38:00.000-04:00

Date: Friday, July 7, 2006

Place: The Works Athletic Club, Aerobics Room

Injury: Bruise, 3 inches long and 2 inches wide

Site: Inner left forearm

Inflicted by: Block of right leg turning kick, first move made by opponent

Description: Pain and coloring immediate and breath-stealing. First full gear sparring day which resulted in the on-going sucking up of the pain to continue activity. Asked repeatedly by instructor if I was ok, repeatedly lied with a smile.

Add Another Hero To The List

2006-06-23T21:16:00.000-04:00

Three years ago, I was working as a medical assistant at the pain clinic here in town, writing out prescriptions, running the x-ray machine, taking vitals, etc. I had just finished earning my MA certificate having aced Anatomy and Physiology I and II. I knew just enough, you know, to hold the job and use the every day experiences to grow and learn further.

I was sitting in the triage office downloading voicemail after garbled voicemail of patients in more pain than they could mentally handle, others that needed prescription refills and still others that needed appointments that had been inadvertently dumped into the wrong mailbox. It was almost the end of the day and as I logged and recorded what was left in the mailbox in the waning minutes, the receptionist poked her head around the corner of the doorway and told me that Tall Boy was on the phone for me.

I took the call and could tell immediately that he was somewhat frantic. He told me that he was on his way to work but that he had just been at his parents and had spent most of his time there convincing his mom to go to the emergency room. He was sure, he said, that she either had or was having a stroke. He then asked if I could go to the hospital after I left work to check on her.

There was no waiting until the end of my shift after a phone call like that so I went and told my boss I was leaving. When I got in my car I called my mom and asked her to pick up Bam-Bam, then a recent two-year-old, then called his babysitter and told her mom would be by. I rushed to the hospital and found MIL (mother-in-law for those not familiar with message board speak) sitting up perky as can be on the guerney in the room adjacent to the radiology room. FIL was with her and so was Tall Boy's sister and brother-in-law.

I got the low down as to what was going on, what they thought had happened and was the plan going forward was, at least at the moment. Apparently four days prior, her left hand had started going numb. Gradually over the following days the numbness had crept up her arm then into her left foot to the point of interfering with her walking around the grocery store that day. It had also started to affect her face but she hadn't noticed.

As Tall Boy's siblings all came and left and FIL also decided to go home and get some sleep, I told her I would stick around until they came to take her up to her room. Once they'd all finally left, I asked her why it took her 4 days and all this damage for her to speak up that something was wrong and she said it was because when she does have an illness, FIL "always has what you have but worse and I didn't want to have to listen to him". Yeah, that's a glimpse into their relationship right there.

At any rate, I casually went over to the side of her bed, leaned in close and said "Mom, from now on if you have trouble taking a shit, someone better know about it." She promised me she would make sure.

In the days following, we learned that MIL had a Transient Ischemic Attack, also known in the medical world as a TIA. TIA's are similar to strokes because the symptoms are so similar. In a stroke, a blood vessel bursts which makes flow impossible to the affected areas beyond the break. In a TIA, there is a clot that has made it's way to the brain that blocks, at least temporarily, the area beyond where it is lodged thus damaging the brain that is deprived of the blood flow.

It is important to note here that had MIL spoken up when the symptoms started, she would have almost certainly 100% recovered from any damage to the affected areas of her brain.

Because she didn't, she still struggles with her function in her hand and walks with a slight limp. She spent 6 weeks in an in-patient rehab and at least another year in out-patient therapy.

But none of that is why she's ranking as a Hero today.

She's a hero because prior to her stroke, my mother-in-law would drink no less than a 12-pack of beer every night and more on the weekends. She was hammered every minute she wasn't at work. She was the typical alcoholic, repeating stories, eyes half shut, slurring and being belligerent. She wasn't much fun to be around and I struggled often with the idea of having she and FIL babysit for us, even when they were the only option.

Since the day after she checked into the hospital (I say the day after because I'm certain she was hammered at admission), she has not touched another drop of alcohol and I am so incredibly proud of her.

I am here to say now that I really love my mother-in-law. I love the strength and determination she's shown not only in her recovery from her episode but also in her sobriety. I enjoy talking with her and having conversations with her because I only have to tell her something once, and she me, and we are able to joke and laugh with each other often. I love that I can trust having Bam-Bam in her care. I love that instead of drinking the night away, she's voraciously reading book after book. We're now able to share books between each other and buying gifts for birthdays, Christmas and Mother's Day can be something meaningful because we know she'll enjoy it.

I love that she's never felt sorry for herself or asked us to pity her, even in the beginning when she could hardly do anything for herself. I love that in the beginning she wasn't ashamed to ask for help and that now she's determined to do things on her own. I love that whenever I need her, I can count on her. And, even though we struggled when Bam-Bam was a baby to see eye-to-eye, I love knowing that now that she's sober, she can see that I'm a really good mom. And I love that she's got my back with him too.

Bravo to you, mom, for the last three years and for many more sober ones to come.

And you know, wherever I am, I'll come runnin'

2006-06-21T22:07:00.000-04:00

I've lost some friends lately and I'm sad.

I'm not exactly sure what happened. I don't know if I did something to upset them and I can't get them to call me back or answer an e-mail in my attempt to find out. Several of these friends I've had for several years which is why I'm so perplexed. I'm not talking casual acquaintences. These are people I have genuinely confided in and believed to be within my tightest of circles.

Granted, my phone and inbox have been unusually quiet since my miscarriage. I'm not sure if people just don't know what to say or if they are afraid or if they really don't believe that I'm ok and think that I'm pining away on the couch eating oreos but it's been seriously amiss here in casa de Hero. I'll admit, I've seen some oreos lately but day-am, they are good. Especially with a huge glass of cold milk....but I digress.

I miss my friends.

I miss them terribly.

I miss laughing with them.

I miss sharing with them.

I miss hearing their voice.

I miss feeling safe with them.

I've never been one to over-analyze or expect all that much from my friends. In fact, I have a really hard time maintaining friendships in which the expectations on me are high. I don't do well with feeling like someone is expecting to hear from me or hang with me frequently. I've also prided myself on my ability to maintain intimate friendships over great geographical distances as well as during times of quiet busy-ness for either me or them. That I get.

But these new cravasses seem deeply cavernous for some reason. As if I should be apologizing or clarifying something to them.

I hate not knowing.

I hate not hearing from them their side.

I hate the silence.

I'm Moving (now, how to convince Tall Boy.....)

2006-06-20T07:59:00.000-04:00

I'm such an underachiever! All I hoped for was mandatory insurance coverage.

Friday night late night chat [only somewhat hypothetical]

2006-06-19T21:09:00.000-04:00

Me: "I mean this with every ounce of my being. I will gauge my eyes out and go on Social Security before I get a full-time job ever again."

Him: "Even when he's in school?"

Me: "Yeah."

Him: "Even when he's in high school?"

Me: "Yeah."

Him: "Even when he's in college?"

Me: "Yeah."

[silence]

Him: "Whoa"

Me: "Yeah."

[The previous dialog is loosely based on an actual conversation involving Hero and Tall Boy last Friday after Hero left the house at 7:30 am to work for TheOlderSib - "just to help out" - and returned home at 9:30 pm]

Pick Your Poison

2006-06-15T06:52:00.000-04:00

Recently I received an e-mail, forwarded from person to person on to me, reminding me to go to the Breast Cancer Awareness site daily and click on their link to help them fund mammograms.

Off and on over the years I've done the daily clicking, reminded that some day I may very well be one of those touched directly by breast cancer. I went, I clicked, I felt better about myself and moved on.

This morning, in my insomnia induced state, I slowed down my clicking and decided to surf through their store. Whoa!

All these years I mistakenly assumed that the only thing I could get through the store was pink ribbon stuff. Now, as groovy as the pink ribbon stuff is (my mom bought us all pink ribbon bracelets when my aunt and cousin were all dealing with breast cancer scares), let me tell you, it is FAR FROM the only groovy things in their store.

The store is a venerable menagerie of gifts and items for literally anyone for any occasion. Items imported from countries all around the world using fair trade, items for the dog lover, cat lover, mom lover, dad lover....seriously, I hadn't quite dealt with my insomnia but I was really grooving on the store! If it weren't the Thursday before Tall Boy gets paid, I'd be buying me some stuff.

But wait, there's more! Why "Pick Your Poison" for the entry title? BECAUSE, not only is the store part of the Breast Cancer Awareness site, but if breast cancer isn't your cause of the heart, the store is also part of the Hunger Site, the Child Health Site, the Literacy Site, the Rainforest Site AND the Animal Rescue Site. And the stores are all linked along the top of the page so that if you'd rather your percentage of profits go toward feeding a child, feeding a dog, or feeding a brain, "YOU CAN DO IT".

OMG, seriously, from now on, I think these sites are the only on-line gift shopping I'm ever going to use, ever again. And, I can connect to all of them at the same time and donate to SIX really amazing causes at any given time.

How cool is that? C'mon now. You know it's cool. Link 'em up!

Oh, and lest I forget to remind, each of those causes have a "click daily to help" link that would appreciate your attention first thing each morning.

Don't forget!

Amid the Bustle

2006-06-14T23:31:00.000-04:00

Oh! I forgot to share!

Amid the mayhem and crap-o-la-ness of the last couple of weeks, something cool happened and I've forgotten to share it here.

Without any hoopala or fireworks, I passed my Tae Kwon Do test for yellow belt. I tested in front of Mr. B, our instructor, prior to the miscarriage but was still supposed to test in front of Grandmaster Hwang for the actual promotion test. I couldn't do the test with Grandmaster Hwang because I'd had the d&c the day before and had been told I needed to rest for at least 24 hours.

I'd considered going to the test and asking to just do one example of each of the techniques but Mrs. B, our other instructor, said they'd just videotape me doing the techniques and once GMH reviewed the tape, I'd promote officially.

Well, last Friday when I went in to class, Mrs. B gave me my belt and material very unceremoniously prior to the start of class and told me I could put it on. Cool.

I still have to do the videotaping but I'm no longer a white belt. Now instead of doing shoulder tag and foot tag, I will begin actual sparring, punching and kicking people etc. Double cool.

I know it's probably queer for a 36 year old previously non-athletic woman to be excited about something like this but I am.

You're still not getting any pictures of me in my uniform though.

And The Hits Just Keep On Coming

2006-06-12T21:21:00.000-04:00

First it was all that rain that just kept coming and coming. Did you hear about that? That FEMA, those dopes that screwed up the Katrina mayhem, yeah, they had to make some trips through our neck of the woods. They've handed out some $3 million dollars for people really hit by the flooding. In hindsight, I should have claimed the leaky roof we've had for over a year but I'm guessing they'd have noticed all the rotted siding as the culprit and denied us, right?

Since the actual flooding, it's been raining here, a lot. Especially on the weekends. Tall Boy's new schedule (it changes every six months in May and November) makes the weekends our only real time with him now. As a result, poor Bam-Bam has waited a MONTH for his birthday present but it's sitting, as I type, in two boxes in the garage. We're hoping that this coming Saturday isn't a wash out again so that daddy can assemble it for him. The instructions said it'll take two people 6-12 hours to assemble it, depending on experience. Um, yeah. Tall Boy is expecting it to be on the high end of that estimate. Even with my expert help.

Then, as I've hinted at but not confirmed, I miscarried and had a d&c on the first. All the hoopala and excitement that was supposed to be on the verge of unveiling in the coming weeks dashed. I'm doing fine with that. Except.

Except Saturday, in the middle of assembling the monstrous beast that will be occupying our front yard, we have to take off and go to a jack and jill baby shower for Tall Boy's nephew. It's he and his wife's first child so it's not like we can shake them off. Add to that the brand new baby of Tall Boy's OTHER nephew (their second) that joined the family on May 19th that will be the star in everyone's eyes.....I JUST DON'T WANNA! CAN'T I BE FIVE FOR A COUPLE OF HOURS AND POUT IN THE CORNER INSTEAD OF BEING THE ADULT?

Believe me, this has nothing to do with either of my nephews, their wives, their kids...nothing like that. Anyone that knows me that has been here long enough knows that their ability to conceive HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH MY DAMNED INFERTILITY. I've got my cross, thankyouverymuch. I just don't want to go. I don't want to have to put the painless face on. I don't want to expend the energy to fake it. I don't want to burst into tears. I don't want to have to explain!

I have a feeling that Tall Boy's mom hasn't told any of the family what happened but since I don't know for sure, I'll be weary. Do they know? Do they not know? ARGG!!

I don't wanna go.

I just don't.

A Few Questions...

2006-06-03T12:35:00.000-04:00

The big doings that I had hoped to tell you all about didn't quite pan out the way we were hoping. There will be no big announcement.

How in this world
Can we put a man on the moon
And still have a need
For a place like St. Judes
And why is one man born
In a place where all they know is war
A guy like me,
Has always been free

And how can two people
Who built a loving home
Try for years
And never have a child of their own
And somewhere out there tonite
There is a baby no ones holding tight
In need of love
To me that don't add up

CHORUS:
But I wasnt there the day You filled up the oceans
I didn't get to see you hang ths stars in the sky
So I do'nt mean to second guess you
Or criticize what I don't understand
These are just a few questions I have

And why did my cousin
Have to die in that crash
A good kid
Only seventeen
I still wonder 'bout that
It seems unfair to me
Some get the chance to chase their dreams
And some don't
What do I know

CHORUS:
I wasn't there the day You filled up the oceans
I didn't get to see You hang the stars in the sky
So I don't mean to second guess You
Or criticize what I don't understand
These are just a few questions I have

Why do I feel like
You hear these prayers of mine
When so many outta be
Ahead of me in line
When you look down on me
Can you see the good through all the bad
These are just a few questions I had

That cough I mentioned in my last post

2006-05-18T17:23:00.000-04:00

Yeah it turns out that it's pneumonia. It continued to drive me crazy, particularly at bed time, so I called and made an apppointment to get it checked this morning.

"You have left lower lobe pneumonia with inspiratory and expiratory wheezes and rhonchi coupled with left lower lobe rales." - Physician's Assistant, Assistant Hero.

He came into the exam room and started asking me about my cough. When it started [I think my allergies triggered it a couple of weeks ago but it just won't go away], did I have a fever [no, feel fine otherwise], did you know you have a fever [what? 100.1 in my ear? I feel fine, really, except for this cough], was I sleeping ok [once I stop coughing enough I can sleep fine], do I often get THIS sick without knowing it at all [yeah, I guess, sometimes, maybe], etc etc etc.

So he sent me off with a Z-pack and some prednisone because inhalers make me hurl and hurling with a cough is NEVER a good combination.

Maybe that fever is why I nearly overheaded three days last week and two days so far this week in Tae Kwon Do? Hmmm...

Now I'm just waiting for the z-pack to kick in and hoping that going up to camp doesn't make it worse or return. Mold. It's sucky.

Man, where has the time gone?

2006-05-13T09:38:00.000-04:00

I haven't been around since the end of March. The. End. Of. March. That's a long time for someone that, at one point, was updating at least daily.

There are all kinds of things developing here in Hero's land. Things that will be unveiled soon, I hope. But, just to recap:

++I've been building my business and it will hopefully be taking off really soon. It's about to take off, really, can you feel it? I can feel it and it feels so awesome.

++I've been traveling again, as I seem to do in April [I know the referring post was written in February but the trip was in April]. I spent several days in the middle of April in St. Louis, MO with 18,000 other beautiful people being inspired.

**NOTE: If you ever have the chance to hear Eric Weihenmayer, GO! RUN! Pay whatever the charge is and listen to him speak. He's a life-changer he is.**

++Bam-Bam turned 5 this week. FIVE! O.M.G. Where has his life gone? In no time he'll be heading off to kindergarten then college and I'll be old and have to stop coloring my gray hair and BE old...ugh. I'm not ready. I'm young! I feel young! Ok, I'm not young really, I'm 36 but I don't ACT young, does that count?

++We're getting ready to open camp again and that's exciting. I hope that the cough I've developed, I think from allergies, settles down before we head up there because the annual "opening-camp-mold" is going to knock me on my butt if my lungs haven't cleared.

++Bam-Bam is also going to do soccer through the summer on Monday nights. I only agreed because it's only on Monday's for an hour. I have proclaimed before here in Hero's land that I don't do sports activities because, well, I like living on my own schedule. But, since he's starting kindergarten here in town in September, I thought it would be good for him to get to know some of the townies his age so the first day isn't so intimidating. And, I was guilted into it by the mom of the only other kid in town that attends preschool with him. I'm a loser, I know.

++Bam is also still in Tae Kwon Do and in March I joined too. I'm about to test for yellow belt (if I can learn and recite the definition of chon ji by next weekend). Bam-Bam is a high white belt and will be testing for yellow in September. Exciting!

++Tall Boy has reshaved his head in preparation for summer. This year it seems to be coupled with a goatee as well. I'm not sure I'm a fan and I've told him as much but like me and my hairstyles, I have no vote on what he does with his facial hair. It's fair, I guess.

I think that's all for now kids. Thanks for coming back. I'm gonna do my best to keep updating.

Ok, so I have a friend, right

2006-03-29T00:22:00.000-05:00

and I love her! LOVE. HER. She is the friend that makes sure that I remember to be silly and fun and spontaneous. She's the one that gets me giggling to the point of nearly peeing my pants. She's the one that is just like the friend my mom has had since high school that now, at 60, still makes her almost pee HER pants.

There is nothing I wouldn't do for my friend and she knows it. She allows me to give it to her straight up when I think she's off her rocker. She's also the one that I will validate until I'm blue in the face if she's in the right. With her I can be completely honest and completely myself. I never have to fake it with her. I can be the real me with all my greatness and all my faults. And she loves me still.

But I'm nervous because she's asked me to lunch on Thursday to talk about her IVF treatment that she quickly mentioned on the phone to me today might not be going all that well. She found out a couple of months back that the company that is carrying her COBRA coverage is now based in Massachusetts which qualifies her for full IF coverage in accordance with Mass law. So, she gets the meds covered and the treatment at a $15 co-pay. Without financial restraints, she's free to do as many treatments as necessary.

But I think she's going to tell me she doesn't even want to do a second one.

This lunch is going to test me. Not our friendship, but ME, to my core.

I'm going to have to be a better friend. I'm going to have to be a stronger woman. A stronger infertile woman. I'm going to have to listen without the pain ringing in my ears and help her figure out what is best for her even though from my angle she's been handed the golden ticket and she needs to get in the glass elevator. I can't throw her series of fortunate events back at her and tell her to be thankful.

That is not what she will necessarily need or want to hear.

Ugh, ugh, ugh.

I shouldn't complain, but

2006-03-27T21:16:00.000-05:00

I have been so ridiculously tired lately that I've taken to, dare I admit it, NAPPING! WTHeck!

The insomniac in me has taken the long road out and now I can hardly stay awake. The troubling part of this is that I'm falling asleep on the couch at 10:30, completely unable to stay awake another minute, and any show that I watch faithfully is on from 10 to 11. I have missed the second half of all my shows for at least a week now. We don't have enough memory in the DVR to keep up with my conflicting sleep habits.

And the napping, my God. I dozed off in the parking lot of Bam-Bam's preschool this morning, thankfully Tall Boy was there with me and woke me when it was time to go get him. Then when we got home, I fell asleep on the couch for over an hour and woke up in just enough time to make dinner before TB had to leave for work.

Someone please stop the insanity!

Walking different paths

2006-03-09T09:34:00.000-05:00

When you're young, there's no instructions outlined on how to cope with walking different paths with a heavy heart. There is no magic method. There is no sure-fire plan for how to face difficult differences. Lately I've been trying to find mine and it's been hard.

We are all handed a very individual life. Each of us has our own past, present and future that will never be like anyone else's. How we react to what we encounter is based on many different factors: our previous experiences both positive and negative, the impact of influential people that we share our lives with, our deeply rooted gut feelings, our moral compass, and our social eptitude or, conversly, ineptitude.

The depth to which we are affected by the actions and choices of others is as individual as the affected. As much as we'd like to think that what other people do, have, choose has no bearing on what happens to us, in truth, that is unrealistic.

Here at Hero's, there's a lot going on in the background that is having tremendous impact on my core. All of it beyond my control yet soaking deep into some painful places that, in spite of all my efforts, feels impossibly personal. I've always believed that what happens to others that can't or doesn't happen for me has no bearing on the joyfulness that I feel for the fortunate. I believed myself to be realistic. I believed myself to be the cheerleader. Hooray for you! Great job! Awesome! I'm not woeful. I'm not a victim. I'm not ungrateful.

I don't want anyone's pity for my cards because I honestly believe that my cards are just DIFFERENT cards, not better or worse. We have all got cards that are hard to play out. Choose your poison, you've got them. Even if you've never shared your difficult cards with anyone else, they're there.

A couple of my difficult cards have moved to the top of the deck lately and amid all the busy-ness of my life, I'm trying to keep it all in perspective. The last thing I want is for someone I love to not know or feel from me that I'm anything but overjoyed for them. I genuinely am. Deep into the place where the pain lies is the joy. They come hand-in-hand.

Where I struggle is in the description of what I'm feeling with the joy. Disappointment? No. Regret? Definitely not. Entitlement? Never. Short-changed? Maybe a little. Given the raw deal? Possibly.

I want to blame someone. I want the ability to have my pain directed AT someone. I want someone to see my wounds and acknowlege that they caused them. I want an apology. I want things made right.

That person doesn't exist.

The balance is in the coping. Something they don't teach you when you're young. Sure, they teach you how to cope with sharing your favorite toy, losing the game, not getting the promotion. Small ticket items my friends.

The head count will be no less than 8 when all is said and done. No. Less. Than. Eight.

See?

2006-03-03T01:03:00.000-05:00

This is what I mean.

The Silence is deafening

2006-02-28T13:11:00.000-05:00

My silence is fueled by the little voice that keeps speaking over and over in my head yet is squelched by not wanting to ruffle any feathers.

My little voice keeps saying: Be kind.

Thats it! Be kind!

Not "Be Christian".
Not "Be Forgiving".

Be Kind.

To me, it's inhuman to be unaccepting of other people's choices, decisions, lifestyles, religions, political perspective, nationality, location, age, LIFE. What other people chose as the best for themselves is none of anyone else's business.

There is no utopian person. There is no perfect Catholic, Muslim, Jew, Protestant etc. It cannot be said that to be a Republican you must be Christian, to be Protestant you must be Democrat, to be Muslim you must be violent.

THERE ARE NO RULES except KINDNESS.

Respect.
Consideration.
Humility.
Acceptance.
Unconditional Love.

Spend less time researching and berating those that don't see eye-to-eye with your views politically and spend time researching how to get a village in Africa clean water or antibiotics or condoms. Spend less time worrying about the homosexuals you're certain are headed for hell and worry about the teenagers that are being bullied in school for being different. Spend less time focused on whether a woman choses to have an abortion and redirect that time toward working in a shelter.

Don't judge, give.

Because, in the end, the truth is that no matter who you worship and what you believe to be on the other side of life, it's what we do here and how we treat others that will define our happiness.

Amid the pain, there is praise.

2006-02-15T10:35:00.000-05:00

I have been following this little girl's journey since finding her linked over at a friend's blog. Thank you God for your miracles.

Powerless

2006-02-14T18:29:00.000-05:00

Someone I love is in tremendous pain tonight and I'm completely powerless to be of any help. Life has thrown my friend one of those situations that is beyond all explanation, reason, comfort, words.

In the more than 5 years that she and I have been friends, I've cared about her and her family, watching them grow, laugh, travel, and exude a silliness unmatched. I've cared about her struggles in her marriage, in parenting, in school, in work, in life. I've watched her pack her bags and fly half way across the country to care for a mutual friend who was alone and in need. And, I've seen her defend the people she loves with a firey passion that builds from a place within her that she holds close to her heart.

I've cared about her but now when she needs someone the most, I can't care FOR her. I can't run to her and hold her in her time of grief. I can't sit beside her, holding her hand, while she tries to process the events that unfolded for her this morning.

When I look at the obstacles that are keeping me here instead of running to her there, I'm annoyed at how much they pale in comparison to the pain she is feeling. Yet, the reality of it is I am powerless to change my geography to be anywhere near her geography.

My words feel empty and unsympathetic and yet they are spoken and written with a love and sympathy that overflows from the deepest reaches of my heart.

I love you my friend. I cry with you. I'm here for you. I'm beside you one day at a time.

To Tall Boy - With all my love, Me.

2006-02-11T21:52:00.000-05:00

Sugarland - Just Might (Make Me Believe)
Provided by VideoCodes4U.com

I got miles of trouble
spreadin' far and wide
Bills on the table
gettin' higher and higher
They just keep on comin',
there's no end in sight
I'm just holdin' on tight

I've got someone who loves me
More than words can say
And I'm thankful for that
each and every day
And if I count all my blessings
I get a smile on my face
Still hard to find faith

But if you look in my eyes
And tell me we'll be alright
If you promise never to leave
You just might make me believe

It's just day to day,
tryin' to make ends meet
What I'd give for an address
out on Easy Street
I need a deep margarita
to help me unwind
Leave my troubles behind

I used to believe in us
When times got tough
Lately I'm afraid
That even love is not enough

But if you can look in my eyes
And tell me we'll be alright
If you promise never to leave
You just might make
Oh, you just might make me
You just might make me believe

I will never complain

2006-02-09T08:14:00.000-05:00

that the Grammys are out of touch again.

When he's home

2006-01-26T12:52:00.000-05:00

The coffee mug only makes it to the sink, not to the dishwasher
The music is loud and has swears
The boy is joyful
Every light in the house is on as well as the bathroom fan
The laundry keeps getting done
The weight bench gets use
The dogs eat much better
Chicken nuggets with potatoe puffs are not considered a meal but pancakes for supper is always a thumbs up
Sounds heard in the back yard that are thought to be that of an injured animal are investigated before the first coffee is finished and while still in pajamas
Sitting around all day on Sunday in our pajamas is NOT ok
Shaving lessons happen
The trucker uses cleanser, toner, moisturizer, sea salt scrub and scalp revitalizer
Insomnia goes away
The bed gets made well
Things like recycling, box crushing, and chimney cleaning have priority
Computer time is not
Asking for favors is hit or miss
Diet Coke disappears along with loaves of bread, entire packages of sandwich meat and boxes of Cheezits

The Old Lady Gets Even Older

2006-01-16T14:19:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday Mumma!

Food for Thought

2006-01-11T21:59:00.000-05:00

When The Sand Runs Out

Rascal Flatts

I spent the morning at an old friend's grave

Flowers and Amazing Grace, he was a good man

He spent his whole life spinnin' his wheels

Never knowin' how the real thing feels

He never took a chance or took the time to dance

And I stood there thinking as I said goodbye

Today is the first day of the rest of my life

I'm gonna stop lookin' back and start movin' on

And learn how to face my fears

Love with all of my heart, make my mark

I wanna leave something here

Go out on a ledge, with out any net

That's what I'm gonna be about

Yeah I wanna be runnin'

When the sand runs out

'Cause people do it everyday

Promise themselves they're gonna change

I've been there, but I'm changin' from the inside out

That was then and this is now

I'm a new man, yeah,

I'm a brand new man

And when they carve my stone they'll write these words

"Here lies a man who lived life for all that its worth"

And as the cold wind blows across the graveyard

I think I hear the voice of my old friend whisper in my ear

I'm gonna stop lookin' back and start movin' on

Learn how to face my fears

Love with all of my heart, make my mark

I wanna leave something here

Go out on a ledge, with out any net

That's what I'm gonna be about

Yeah I wanna be runnin'

When the sand runs out

Convincing

2006-01-10T10:15:00.000-05:00

The hush that has fallen over the room was brought on by some internal struggle. Struggle to find, declare and own the person I want to be, the person I am inside, and drop all the crap and hang ups that continue to keep me from being that person. From being real. In the last several weeks, that woman in there has been screaming to get out and get beyond the internal dialog that has been keeping her silent.

Several years ago when I first started getting serious with Tall Boy, his parents invited my parents over for dinner. Tall Boy's mom made a batch of her classic italian sauce chock full of pork chops, sausage, and chicken and we all sat down together and visited. After my mom and dad left, my mother-in-law was going on and on about how my mom wasn't anything like she'd imagined she'd be and not at all like me. Then she went one step further and said "Because, you know, I thought she'd be 'standoffish' like you".

I was stunned to say the very least.

In all my life, I'd never seen myself as standoffish and had never been told that I was. I see myself more as an open book, understanding, accepting and warm. In my head, I don't care what people do for a living, who they choose to love, what vices they carry, or what other people's opinions are. If I want to care about them and share my time with them, I will. But, in that moment 10 years ago, my mother-in-law may have actually been speaking a bit of truth.

I still believe all those things about myself. I rarely let the opinion of others affect how I feel about anything and it is only after I've been hurt or affected directly that I might change my perspective. All of that is true.

But, I don't know that I've been living that outwardly. I don't know that people actually know that about me or that they believe that I feel the way I do.

I don't know that I've been living real.

Coincidentally, amid all of this battling, my horoscope for this week reads:

Every person you know has a different idea about who you are, and none of those notions is exactly the same as the image you have of yourself. In other words, there are hundreds of unauthorized versions of you in addition to the one you believe in. Usually you don't have much power to control this, but that could change in 2006. More than at any other previous time, you'll have a knack for bringing public opinion into alignment with your own picture of yourself. Your reputation may even come to closely resemble the person you really are.

The horoscope writer summed up everything I've been dealing with in those few sentences which scares the bejeesus out of me.

All of this leaves me with some huge questions:

How do I become genuine?

If what I thought was real before isn't really 'real', how do I get real now?

How will I know, and have others know, that the new real is real?

How do I convince myself that I'm worthy of all to good that I have or will have?

How do I drop the pretenses and self-talk that have been limiting me all this time?

How do I embrace the release of the walls that have bound me?

How do I forgive myself?

I just should not touch the template

2005-12-30T00:25:00.000-05:00

I know that my music player has messed up my layout, even though it's really groovy that it'll play 5 different inspiring or not so inspiring videos. I've contacted Rainbow Pixels to help me get it fixed. Since they are in Italy and I'm in the US, there's no telling what time zone it will be fixed in. Patience is a virtue, right? ;-)

Ahhhp, Daahhhnnn, Ahhhp, Daahhhhnnn

2005-12-29T22:36:00.000-05:00

You know that scene in The Karate Kid where Pat Morita has Ralph Macchio painting the fence to teach him the up/down block? "Ahhhp, Daahhhnnn..." Ever stop and realize how much life is like that?

In the midst of celebrating the birth of Christ, Tall Boy and I rode the rollercoaster of Ahps and Dahhns.

I feel as though the ride has been too fast though. As if I left my house in the morning with my hair looking "sooooo fine" and now I'm in need of a ponytail holder. Something to wrap around me and hold me down and remind me to be patient. It's been so crazy that even the insomniac in me has taken a vacation and I've been ready for bed at 9:15 for the last three nights. What is that?

So, say a prayer that things just keep: that we can keep making the new car payment, that my business keeps it's momentum and moving upward, that GG keeps getting the right advice to deal with her cancer diagnosis, that I keep getting enough sleep, that we continue to be blessed by God with tremendous happiness...keep keep keep.

As a new business owner, I've been told

2005-12-21T01:05:00.000-05:00

That you should be progressive by having a vision of where you want to take your business. Forcasting a direction shall we say.

I can't fathom how they think that allowing this was going to move the business in the right direction.

They didn't even counter.

The Spirit of Christmas

2005-12-15T21:23:00.000-05:00

There's always a lot of talk at this time of year about the commercialization of the holiday and the loss of the Spirit of Christmas. My guess is that the retailing of Christmas has been "the talk" since long before Santa ever stuffed my first stocking back when my dad worked three jobs just to keep us fed and clothed. There's no denying now how much of a sacrifice my parents made in the Christmas seasons past to get my two sisters and I exactly what we were hoping for year after year.

Christ is still in Christmas in our house. Our manger is prominently displayed in our living room with it's full cast of characters. Yes, the baby Jesus is already in the crib. Even in my childhood, I never really embraced the "procession" of Jesus to the manger on Christmas eve. He's hanging out in all his wonderous glory with Mary, Joe, the Wise Guys and the drummer kid with his little shoulder-slung snare. The cows and sheep are even kept in check in spite of the fact that the fencing has come unglued and they could potentially be free ranging it if they so choose. We've read the story of the birth of Christ a couple of times from our Usbourne Family Bible so that Bam-Bam can learn the "there's no room in the Inn" line too. Well rounded we are.

To me though, there are two Spirits of Christmas. The biblical one and as much as people scream about it, the commercialized one. Both of them have their place. I won't argue that the more important one is the celebration of Christ. But there can be no denying the magic of Christmas in children. I admit that before Bam-Bam came along, the concept was really beyond me. Tonight as he stood in front of Santa at the mall chatting with the most realistic looking Santa I've seen in a while, the second spirit of Christmas filled me. It obviously helped that this was the first time he's talked to Santa since past years have been a fearful bust.

But as he told the Big Dude that all he wanted was some cars, I couldn't help but think that, like it or not, the excitement of Christmas is undoubtedly the hope and promise of Santa in children. That year after year, they recite their wishes and mail their lists to nowhere hoping that they will get those things because in the end, they've been good. That when they decend the stairs and peek under the tree, that miracle will come true and after all the watching he's done, Santa's somehow got it right.

The panic I have now is the wait to see if Tall Boy's check tomorrow will be enough to make Santa the miraculously magical man he's supposed to be at our house next week.

New Home

2005-12-15T14:09:00.000-05:00

Hey all!

As I mentioned before, my blog was driving me crazy. I've made a new home now, isn't it nice! Big shout out to MsThang for her incredible talent in creating the template changes. If you ever need anything, you know who to call, the Hero!

Gah, I'm such a loser

2005-12-09T21:19:00.000-05:00

Confessional: I can't stand coming to my own blog. Not because I can't stand the content but because it's annoying the heck out of me. Between the popup and the slow loading graphics, I've had it. So, I've recruited the help of a blogland friend and the next new thing is in the works. I think it may even include a whole new street corner just to make sure that none of the crickets that have been hopping around here make their way there but that element is still up in the air.

For now, check in every day or so and be patient with me.

Shanks.

"...then out of no where comes Greg Biffle....

2005-11-21T13:41:00.000-05:00

and I literally screamed 'where the hell did he just come from'. He and Mark Martin were door to door at the start/finish line....."

Oh, HI. Didn't see you there. Where have I been you ask?

Well...........

I've been busy, damn busy if you ask me. Songbird and the boys are almost officially moved out so I've been reclaiming our home and returning it to some semblance of order. My kitchen, dining room and bathroom have been spotless, ala FLYlady, for over three weeks now and this week I'm moving into the office. I have actually done a quick once-over on the living room too but not to the FLY standards yet. Yesterday my dad was here and he even gave me raving compliments. That was nice.

I've also been starting my own business which is never stress free. I have to do something to help us connect the dots financially around here and since blogging isn't a money maker (except if you're Dooce or someone like that), I have to find something else that will work. We've been able to make it work with me being home for two years now and my being here is something we're not willing to sacrifice. But, we both need new vehicles in addition to a list of other things that need to happen that just aren't in the budget at all so, business world, here I come. Anyone here from Canada or know someone in Canada that wants to go into business with me?

In between there have been arguments and celebrations, painting the house and dealing poker, ear infections and board breaking, stressing over Christmas and getting pissed at Amazon....basic life stuff that gets in the way of creativity sometimes. I promise to be back more regularly, at least until I'm not again.

We now return to our program already in progress....

"...then I almost lost it when Greg Zipadelli started getting all choked up about his friendship with Tony Stewart...."

Trip Humor

2005-11-02T00:27:00.000-05:00

An hour before leaving for our friend's house while surfing the UITF website, I showed Bam-Bam a picture of Grandmaster Hwang doing an awesome over the head kick(scroll down the first page of the link and the pic is on the right). In typical 4 year old fashion, he immediately tried to replicate the move and subsequently landed wrong and hurt his foot. Bad. We thought he may have even broken a metatarsel or two so we ended up in the ER just a few hours before our flight getting him checked out. Thankfully it was only sprained. The humor you ask (because, yeah, I know, a 4 year old with a foot sprain is not in any way fun)? First trying to tell every healthcare worker "He was trying to do a Grandmaster Hwang" without breaking out into hysterics then having to get a wheelchair to get him back and forth to the pool for the first three days because it hurt him enormously to walk on it but apparently not so enormously that he couldn't fling himself from the side of the pool all day long.
Not knowing enough Spanish so as to not to overdraw the debit checking when I thought I was taking $60 out of savings.
Getting shat on by a humongous pelican.
Watching Bam-Bam watch The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy in Spanish because by Thursday he was going through heroin-type withdrawals.
Spending 7 days in Mexico illegally. Somehow we missed going through immigration on the way in. Don't ask me how, I don't know. But we did it. Thankfully the immigration department there was extremely helpful getting us stamped in on the way out.
Thirteen dollar Haagen Dazs Coffee ice cream.
There are NOT 100 species of loons. We checked.
Sixty-seven dollar hotel-requested airport transportation that would have cost $24 via taxi. Yeah, that got removed from the bill.
"I know I'm in YOUR country but does anyone down there speak English?" - click - "Guess not."
"This has got to be the worst meal I have even eaten in my entire life. The mac and cheese tastes like cardboard and the hotdogs taste like I don't even know what."
Getting shot out a toilet.
"Fire in the hole!"
The look I gave the woman seated next to me on the first leg home out of PV when she told me that Bam-Bam was "highly intellectual" for his age because, after not being ticketed to sit with either me or Tall Boy, he bravely sat alone flipping through the emergency procedures flyer, the SkyMall catalog and finally playing his Gameboy. Thankfully the bitch didn't see me crying the entire time we taxied out. I still can't believe not one mature adult could switch seats with one of us to sit next to him.....but I'm not bitter.
Yes, I read the whole book in about 6 hours.
Cornrows and henna tatoos. Who over 21 does that?
The inexplicable inability to process that pesos were merely 10 times more than the dollar. I could not, for the life of me, just drop the last 0 in the price.....all week.
"The train is not a rip off, honey, if they don't charge you for the ride".
"She's just happy to be invited."
"You are NOT out of underwear! I packed you plenty and it's only day 4!"

Mexico, the photo entry

2005-10-31T17:01:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday Bampa

2005-10-22T15:12:00.000-04:00

I miss you.

When I Get Where I'm Going
Brad Paisley

When I get where I'm going
On the far side of the sky
The first thing that I'm gonna do
Is spread my wings and fly

I'm gonna land beside a lion
And run my fingers through his mane
Or I might find out what it's like
To ride a drop of rain

CHORUS
Yeah, when I get where I'm going
There'll be only happy tears
I will shed the sins and struggles
I have carried all these years
And I'll leave my heart wide open
I will love and have no fear
Yeah, when I get where I'm going
Don't cry for me down here

I'm gonna walk with my grandaddy
And he'll match me step for step
And I'll tell him how I missed him
Every moment since he left
Then I'll hug his neck

CHORUS

So much pain and so much darkness
In this world we stumble through
All these questions I can't answer
So much work to do

But when I get where I'm going
And I see my Maker's face
I'll stand forever in the light
Of His amazing grace
Yeah when I get where I'm going
There'll be only happy tears
Hallelujah I will love and have no fear
When I get where I'm going
Yeah, when I get where I'm going

Run Chip Run

2005-10-17T09:39:00.000-04:00

Each week, Bam-Bam has to do homework for preschool. They have a letter of the alphabet assigned to each week and every Monday they have to bring in pictures of two items that start with that letter. Last year at this time we were flipping through magazines trying to find things to cut out that start with the letter of the week. This year I've smartened up and have decided that Google Images works just as well thankyouverymuch.

The first week, the "A" week, one of the other boys in Bam-Bam's class brought in a Ziplock baggy with acorns he'd collected from his back yard. I wasn't all that impressed with the individuality of it because they said to bring in two pictures. Whatever smartass.

Anyway, when they got into their circle and each kid talked about their two "A" items, the teachers explained to the class which animals ate acorns for food with a particular focus on squirrels. Now, I remember kindergarten and I remember that we learned the little ditty called "Squirrel Gray" which goes a little something like this:

Squirrel gray with a bushy tail
I have an acorn in my pail
Here is an acorn just for you
Here is another one when you're through.

It made complete sense to me that the teachers were making the connection between the acorn and the squirrel gathering them for the winter. I was also proud of my boy that he piped in that whitetail deer also eat acorns. Something his daddy has taught him on their scouting expeditions in preparation for Bam-Bam joining Tall Boy in the woods one day to shoot his first deer.

At the end of the day, the kids all gathered their coats and headed to the back yard of the school to hang out on the playground until their parents came to pick them up. With two teachers bringing up the rear, Jacob (acorn boy), Michael, Bryce and my boy Bam-Bam saw, chased and caught a chipmunk! With the teachers running toward them screaming for them to put it down, all 4 boys held and pet the chipmunk as if it was the class guinea pig.

Thankfully they managed to release the animal before any of them got bit and before the teachers each had a heart attack. Since then, I've been trying my damndest but have yet to hit one with my car. Guess I need Michael to drive for me.

Chuck Norris, look out!

2005-10-06T21:09:00.000-04:00

That's Bam-Bam in his new Tae Kwon Do uniform. The pants and sleeves were all rolled three times just to be able to see his hands and feet. I'm in the process of doing a rough tacking job to get them up off the floor. Took me an hour last night to do one pant leg and let me tell you, it's not pretty but it will work until Grammy Honda is able to do them on her machine.

He's loving TKD though and he's doing really well. He does his forms well and is starting to remember what the moves are by name when asked to do them which is exciting. He still won't demo them for Daddy but we're getting there.

I'm praying that we see the discipline benefits pretty soon. He's not quite making the connection between the courtesy and self-control that Mr B talks about in class and having to behave outside of class but I love having names to put to what our expectations are of him.

Off to continue tacking. I need to get the other pantleg and both sleeves done before class tomorrow. Wish me luck!

As a slow roll back into the swing of things....

2005-10-05T00:59:00.000-04:00

Now that my internet connection has been restored, I have a TON to catch up on but I'm just going to start tonight (or is it this morning) by playing along with the Preacherman's game. I should say before I do this that my dad was a private party DJ back in the day so I know all the songs so it's either love it or leave it with me. There is no indifferent.

1988

1. Faith, George Michael
2. Need You Tonight, INXS
~~3. Got My Mind Set On You, George Harrison~~
~~4. Never Gonna Give You Up, Rick Astley~~
5. Sweet Child O' Mine, Guns N' Roses
~~6. So Emotional, Whitney Houston~~
~~7. Heaven Is A Place On Earth, Belinda Carlisle~~
~~8. Could've Been, Tiffany~~
~~9. Hands To Heaven, Breathe~~
~~10. Roll With It, Steve Winwood~~
11. One More Try, George Michael
12. Wishing Well, Terence Trent d'Arby
~~13. Anything For You, Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine~~
14. The Flame, Cheap Trick
~~15. Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car, Billy Ocean~~
~~16. Seasons Change, Expose~~
17. Is This Love, Whitesnake
~~18. Wild, Wild West, Escape Club~~
19. Pour Some Sugar On Me, Def Leppard
~~20. I'll Always Love You, Taylor Dayne~~
21. Man In The Mirror, Michael Jackson
~~22. Shake Your Love, Debbie Gibson~~
23. Simply Irresistible, Robert Palmer
24. Hold On To The Nights, Richard Marx
~~25. Hungry Eyes, Eric Carnen~~
~~26. Shattered Dreams, Johnny Hates Jazz~~
27. Father Figure, George Michael
~~28. Naught Girls (Need Love Too), Samantha Fox~~
~~29. A Groovy Kind Of Love, Phil Collins~~
30. Love Bites, Def Leppard
31. Endless Summer Nights, Richard Marx
~~32. Foolish Beat, Debbie Gibson~~
~~33. Where Do Broken Hearts Go, Whitney Houston~~
34. Angel, Aerosmith
35. Hazy Shade Of Winter, Bangles
36. The Way You Make Me Feel, Michael Jackson
~~37. Don't Worry, Be Happy, Bobby McFerrin~~
~~38. Make Me Lose Control, Eric Carnen~~
39. Red Red Wine, UB40
40. She's Like The Wind, Patric Swayze
41. Bad Medicine, Bon Jovi
~~42. Kokomo, Beach Boys~~
~~43. I Don't Wanna Go On With You Like That, Elton John~~
~~44. Together Forever, Rick Astley~~
~~45. Monkey, George Michael~~
46. Devil Inside, INXS
47. Should've Known Better, Richard Marx
48. I Don't Wanna Live Without Your Love, Chicago
~~49. The Loco-Motion, Kylie Minogue~~
~~50. What Have I Done To Deserve This?, Pet Shop Boys and Dusty Springfield~~
~~51. Make It Real, Jets~~
~~52. What's On Your Mind, Information Society~~
~~53. Tell It To My Heart, Taylor Dayne~~
~~54. Out Of The Blue, Debbie Gibson~~
~~55. Don't You Want Me, Jody Watley~~
56. Desire, U2
~~57. I Get Weak, Belinda Carlisle~~
~~58. Sign Your Name, Terence Trent d'Arby~~
~~59. I Want To Be Your Man, Roger~~
~~60. Girlfriend, Pebbles~~
61. Dirty Diana, Michael Jackson
~~62. 1-2-3, Gloria Estefan and Miami Sound Machine~~
~~63. Mercedes Boy, Pebbles~~
~~64. Perfect World, Huey Lewis and the News~~
65. New Sensation, INXS
~~66. Catch Me (I'm Falling), Pretty Poison~~
~~67. If It Isn't Love, New Edition~~
~~68. Rocket 2 U, Jets~~
~~69. One Good Woman, Peter Cetera~~
~~70. Don't Be Cruel, Cheap Trick~~
~~71. Candle In The Wind, Elton John~~
~~72. Everything Your Heart Desires, Daryl Hall and John Oates~~
73. Say You Will , Foreigner
74. I Want Her, Keith Sweat
~~75. Pink Cadillac, Natalie Cole~~
76. Fast Car, Tracy Chapman
77. Electric Blue, Icehouse
~~The Valley Road, Bruce Hornsby and The Range~~
79. Don't Be Cruel, Bobby Brown
~~Always On My Mind, Pet Shop Boys~~
~~Piano In The Dark, Brenda Russell Featuring Joe Esposito~~
82. When It's Love, Van Halen
~~Don't Shed A Tear, Paul Carrack~~
~~84. We'll Be Together, Sting~~
85. I Hate Myself For Loving You, Joan Jett and The Blackhearts
86. I Don't Want To Live Without You, Foreigner
~~87. Nite And Day, Al B. Sure~~
~~88. Don't You Know What The Night Can Do, Steve Winwood~~
~~89. One Moment In Time, Whitney Houston~~
~~90. Can't Stay Away From You, Gloria Estefan and Miami Sound Machine~~
~~91. Kissing A Fool, George Michael~~
92. Cherry Bomb, John Cougar Mellancamp
~~93. I Still Believe, Brenda K. Starr~~
94. I Found Someone, Cher
95. Never Tear Us Apart, INXS
~~96. Valerie, Steve Windwood~~
~~97. Just Like Paradise, David Lee Roth~~
98. Nothin' But A Good Time, Poison
99. Wait, White Lion
~~100. Prove Your Love, Taylor Dayne~~

Now, don't pass out at the fact that I didn't chose Desire as my favorite song. Desire is actually one of my least favorite tracks by U2 and Love Bites surpasses it several times over.

Issues, people, we're having issues

2005-09-27T01:32:00.000-04:00

Something is definitely up here in Rescue central. MAJOR internet problems that have me pulling my hair out. I hope to have some mutual aid arrive tomorrow to help me sort through the problems but can't make any promises as to when I'll be able to come back and post.

The issues are big.

Really, big.

My apologies for any hang-ups or headaches my absence may cause. I'll be back as soon as I possibly can.

The aftermath

2005-09-22T14:30:00.000-04:00

A couple of weeks ago, a certain somebody named Katrina took a stroll through historic New Orleans and took a lot of stuff with her. Lives. Memories. History. Stuff.

Amid the destruction and loss was stuff belonging to my cousin and her family. They lived along the banks of Lake Pontchartrain in a little suburb called Lakeview. Sara, my cousin, and her family packed a few items into their minivan and evacuated to Baton Rouge for what they expected to be 4 maybe 5 days tops. Once the predicted devastation became reality, they loaded up the quilts, a handful of pictures, their two beautiful daughters, the ashes of their infant son and their love and drove to Jacksonville Florida to start anew.

Many people have reminded them to be thankful that they got out with their lives, as so many people did not, and that what they lost was just "stuff". Sara can acknowledge that but will tell you that although it was "just stuff", it was her stuff and she kind of liked it.

They have rented a place near her parents along the Florida coast but the reality of it all is that they have basically nothing left. A recent attempt to do the simplest of school projects proved near impossible without the supplies they had on hand at "home". Scissors, paper, glue that used to sit idly in a junk drawer have now become a commodity. A week's worth of clothes, unthinkable. All that "stuff" was the elements of living the day-to-day that they no longer take for granted.

In an attempt to get them back on their feet, our family here in New England is throwing them a "shower" on Saturday. We never need an excuse to get together and throw a raucousing party but gathering together has so much more meaning to us this time.

Although there have been specific suggestions made for items they need, most of us are gathering gift cards from national chains that they can use down in their area to start to replace what has been lost. Yesterday at Walmart I returned two stadium seats I had bought for us to bring to the Nascar race that proved useless and had the refund turned into a gift card instead. Tomorrow when Tall Boy's check hits the bank, I'm heading out to places like Old Navy, Toys R Us, maybe Barnes and Noble to add to my "donation". Not exactly a contribution to the Red Cross like everyone else in the country did but knowing that the devastation hit close to home, I held off on my efforts so that I could fine tune them in a way that will hopefully start to renew some semblance of normal for 4 people I love dearly.

This week has been filled with several e-mail exchanges that began with Sara's attempt to find humor amid her devastation. Although we've all been sitting at our separate desks around the country playing along, we also know that there is pain behind the laughter for them. The snapshot I'm left with is the resilience of not just the nation or the city of New Orleans in general but of members of MY family. Whether its celebrating success or banding together to heal pain, I know that they are the safe place to fall. They will take care of me should I ever be the one in need. We do love, deeply.

The CD Release Party

2005-09-17T13:14:00.000-04:00

(click on the image for a Judd slideshow)

Last night at the Brickhouse, Pondering Judd lit up the night with a rock show that was so typically Judd. PJ is our local roots rock collaborative that unites lost friends with lost feelings with lost experience. The joint was jumpin', literally, with the floor shaking and drawing new PJ lovers up from the "disco" downstairs. The boys never fail.

To share the love, I'll be adding P-Judd tracks to the "sing it" section in the sidebar. PLEASE, click and listen (castpost doesn't do the autoplay feature on their players or you'd already be falling in love). I'm starting off with Maybellene off the CD released this weekend, Lonesome Heart Strangers which will be available for sale via their website soon. For the rest of the Judd collection, their previous releases can be found here (this will link you up to October At Our Heels and from there you can link up to their other releases).

Don't go flaming me because the dude got hurt but

2005-09-14T15:11:00.000-04:00

Foster's is killing me again! To quote the first two paragraphs of a headlined article this morning:

DOVER — A man suffered severe burns to his upper body when his car ignited in the Shaw's parking lot Tuesday night.Authorities have not yet released the identity of the victim, who was reported to have suffered burns on his face, torso, and legs.

I didn't need the high 'A' I got in A&P I OR II to know that the legs ARE NOT considered "upper body".

I wonder if they're report that the fire started when the guy's crack pipe blew up.

FDOS

2005-09-12T12:41:00.000-04:00

We had a great first day of school today. Bam-Bam wouldn't talk to any of the returning kids in his class but he had a BLAST playing with daddy (click here for a link to a slideshow of the morning). I'm sure everything will pick up on Wednesday for his first full day without us there with him but it was funny to watch. So many of the mom's commented on how much taller he got over the summer. I personally think all the returning kids got taller and cuter too. He's so happy to be with Miss Debbie and Miss Chicken again. They're both so loving with him. Although some of his closest friends from last year did not return, he's got some new friendly faces joining him this year.

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

Side note: Giving a big ol' shout out to MsThang for tweaking some of the code for my new template (from Italy no less). She rocks da house!

Lost Art

2005-09-08T18:44:00.000-04:00

My sister Songbird's oldest, D-Money started third grade last week. For some reason it seems as though he's aged years in the last seven days. He seems different, more mature. I don't really know why or where that thought came from but I can't escape it.

Tonight one of his homework assignments was to get all of his books covered. Third grade is the first year they do this at his school. What I learned last week as Songbird was scrambling to buy everything on the required supplies list is that they now have stretchable fabric book covers for sale at Walmart. It's a designer sleeve of man-made materials that you slip around your book.

One of his books is workbook style and wouldn't work well with the taught material being slung over it. The covers were bending and folding amid the tension. As he started to panic I told him not to worry, a grocery bag will take care of it. He got lost in his confusion but told me he'd trust me.

The coolness of the Nascar or Spiderman fabric covers lasted about 10 seconds with me when I realized what he's lost by going the purchased fabric-style route. He's lost the potential destiny of being the next local graffiti artist since the ink would surely seep through those fabric jobbies and onto the cover itself thus negating the purpose of the cover altogether.

Then of course I realized that the fabric would have never stood up to my dropping my books into the bottom of my locker. The metal latch would sure have caught, snagged and ripped them to shreds.

So, for the flexible covered book, we outfitted him with the standard paper grocery bag cover and within 3 minutes he had already begun to doodle on it.

Forty years from now...

2005-09-06T08:54:00.000-04:00

When my daughter-in-law (or possibly son-in-law) comes to me and complains to me about being annoyed when Bam-Bam even breathes, much like my own mother complains about my own father breathing, I will be able to say that I saw it coming and did nothing about it.

We have a rather tongue-in-cheek exchange involving my parents and their current living arrangement. After careful observation, it boils down its simplest form that they share air. That's it. They each have their own bedroom, computer, vehicle, couch and the most recent addition of separate checking accounts probably at separate banks. She never drives his car, he rarely drives hers. She never uses his computer, he's only on hers to fix something. And they never sit on each other's couches. Now that dad works second shift, they almost never even share the air anymore. The humor is not lost on the daughers and although it's not a life we'd chose for them or ourselves, they seem to be making the best of it.

The joke started, though, with my mom complaining a few years back that she can't stand my dad's breathing. It's a combination of breath holding and long drawn out exhales. As I sat here reading my daily dose of blogs this morning I noticed Bam-Bam doing something eerily similar and I just need to declare that when the time comes for his life's love to complain about it, I will have already seen it coming.

This woman brings me to my knees

2005-09-06T08:53:00.000-04:00

with almost every entry she writes.

Questions for those in the know....

2005-09-02T15:56:00.000-04:00

If I decide to leave blogspot for my own domain......

Is there a way to transfer my archives over somehow? I don't want to lose what I've already put into this if possible.
If I decide to purchase a customized blog layout package, do I need to be an html expert to get my posts on it? Would I need to move to another blog service (say, typepad - thanks Preacherman) or is there some other technique used to post them? I'm pretty savvy and could handle doing everything a different way with proper instruction. I do pride myself on being a quick learner. I just don't want to lose what I've already put into this if possible....oh yeah, I said that already....I'm scared, can you tell?
If I go to a customizable skin, what should my theme be? An ambulance overflowing with chocolate milk? LOL. I kid, I kid. But seriously, I want ideas people, help me here.
Is there a way to find out where my pop-under/over/whatever is coming from and erradicate that instead of going to all this other trouble? I downloaded and ran Spybot as someone so graciously suggested in the past but that only zapped any spyware from my personal computer and had no impact on whatever has somehow wormed its way onto my site here.
The Preacherman's wife told me last night that my background color isn't right. I don't see that and was wondering if anyone else is having an issue with it? May be another cog in the "convert already" theory if it has become a problem.

The Rock and the Hard Place

2005-08-31T13:48:00.000-04:00

I know, I've been quiet again. Over the last week or so, there has been a disturbing controversy among the women on my mommy message board. As we're about to celebrate 5 years of friendship, we have come up a topic that has us really divided to the point of possibly losing contact with a couple of members and that makes me terribly sad.

We've managed to debate several topics over the years that have resulted in some hurt feelings and "board breaks" but never to this degree. I even considered one myself when the topic turned to "couples that irresponsibly take fertility drugs and end up with high order multiples then expect the rest of society to care for them". We've covered every aspect of the Terri Schiavo situation, birth control, abortion, the recent election etc. The board was the first place I turned for comfort while sitting at work on September 11th. We cried together over what it meant for the future of our 4 month old babies. We have banded together to soothe members over the loss of pregnancies, newborns, stillborns and family members. We went to the nth degree to help care for V when she became ill last month as well as file grievances with the military powers that be and politicians that eventually lead to the 10 day leave she just received with her husband.

To be honest, I was initially impressed with the openness of the discussion between the incredibly strong and diverse women I call friends. For a while, it didn't seem to matter which side of the debate you were on, views could be shared without feathers being ruffled. Eventually though, a line was crossed and the preacher's wife was personally attacked for considering a visit to Camp Casey by a military wife.

As is par for the course with me and as I declared when I started this blog, I don't debate so I didn't get involved with the dangerous thread. I don't debate politics or hot topics or religion. I don't because I think that this country allows us the luxury of being able to view the same thing in completely different ways and say so. I don't because when people become passionate about something, it inevitably gets personal and when it does it hurts. I don't because I don't ever want to be the one to hurt someone's feelings just because they don't agree with my point of view.

I read along with the debates because I love learning more about the women I care about. I love seeing where everyone else is coming from and find the points in their discussions that I agree with and those in which I don't. I find that I learn so much because so many members of the group are actually into politics, following stories, picking sides.

I'm not a side-picker I guess. I can read one person's opinion and see where they would come to that point then read an opposing view and see the merit there too. I can understand why some members believe that the war in Iraq is wrong, that we sent troops there under a misguided and misinformed agenda of our current leadership. I can also understand that our military personnel and families believe that they are fighting the right fight, doing the right job, putting a foot down for democracy.

In the end though, when the attacks get personal from either side, we've managed to undermine the entire point of the democracy we all covet. Our democracy calls for the people to question our leaders and the decisions they make. Our democracy allows us the freedom to disagree and side with the unpopular opinion with voices loud and clear. Our democracy makes room for the Cindy Sheehans and the George Bush's of the world to disagree. What's scary for me is that, beyond the fact that there is no right or wrong way to view our current political agenda in Iraq, is the basis that if someone doesn't agree with "your" point of view they are somehow less of a person with no credibility or value to "you".

The Preacher's Wife and the Military Wife are both incredibly beautiful women, mothers, wives, friends. They have both been there to lift me up when I have struggled with my own personal trials and tribulations. They have both come to my rescue with prayers and words of comfort. They have both made me laugh, cry, and shine from inside with their compassion, strength, courage, determination and faith.

I wish I could patch the wound. I wish I could make them believe that differing opinions doesn't change the person deep inside of the other. I wish that I could convince the Military Wife that the Preacher's Wife loves her, cares for her, cares about her ailing daughter and proud military husband and that even if she doesn't agree with why we are in Iraq, she's still thankful for the men and women, who are in Iraq securing her freedom here at home, wishing them all returned home to their loved ones as they continue to uphold the democracy that has allowed her ability to say or do as she feels.

Draining day....

2005-08-25T21:37:00.000-04:00

I feel like Ethan Hawke right now.

Mentally, I feel like I've been run over by Tall Boy in the tractor with the trailer attached. I'm still so wound up that even though I feel exhausted, I don't think I'd be able to sleep anyway. So instead, I'm halfway though a 4 count box of original Dove ice cream bars and LOVING IT! I'll be going back to the cult soon as well as Curves so I need to get in as much ice cream now as I can.

Songbird is having issues with the walking dick and it may get really, really ugly in the next couple of days and I'm worried about her.

Bam Bam had a visit with Nana, his babysitter before I got fired, and although she tried to convince me that he was not the demon from hell that he became when I walked in the door, I don't buy it. I was embarrassed, horrified and wanting to exorcise him right there in the middle of her living room. I'm sure she thinks I'm a complete idiot and that it's amazing the we're both surviving on a daily basis or worse, that he'll be a delinquent by the time he turns six.

Bam Bam didn't make it to the bathroom in time today and peed on the floor.

I think Bam Bam and the Bomb have a pact to see who can get me to scream at the top of my lungs first. I don't know who's winning but it certainly isn't me.

Tall Boy is on overload with the trash collector. He, the TC, hasn't shown up in about three weeks and I think there may be a shotgun involved if his ass doesn't come by here tomorrow and get the stuff.

The roof is still leaking.

Josey has an upset stomach.

I really need Puerto Vallarta to get here, like, NOW.

Can you believe how hot Jamie O'Neil is? Wow. Of course, I picked that video but I'm not feeling like anybodys hero today.

Man, where's that next Dove bar.....

It's working, it's working.....

2005-08-22T22:07:00.000-04:00

No, not my toilet-water-infested cellphone (I replaced that earlier with a groovy new Motorola camera phone). It's bigger than that.

Tonight, as we made our way home from the cellphone place and the grocery store, I was cranking Pondering Judd's CD Curve of Her Soul when Bam-Bam spoke up from the back asking for "his songs" (sorry Pyle).

"No," I said, "I don't want to listen to the Spongebob CD tonight, honey, maybe tomorrow. ok?" to which he answered:

"No, Mom, not Spongebob. I wanna hear BONO!"

I love this kid, I love him, I love him, I love him.

Splash........oh crap

2005-08-22T15:21:00.000-04:00

Two Fridays ago, as Tall Boy and I were scrambling around preparing for the anniversary party, he called and said that his cell phone kept shutting off whenever he unplugged it from the charger. It showed a full charge but would not hold the charge once disconnected. We just got the phones last June but the warranty ran out so he'd need a new one regardless. So, Saturday morning I got up and headed off to the Cingular store to rescue the phone.

When we originally got our cellphones in 1998 or 1999, we got them through a promotion for Pepsi because Tall Boy worked there. The carrier was AT&T Wireless and came with all kinds of discounts and endless minutes etc. It rocked. We never, ever, ever exceeded our minutes, never paid more than just the standard plan costs and never had a problem with the exception of wishing the coverage area was fuller (but who doesn't wish that right?). Last June, when we needed new phones, we contemplated switching to Nextel so that he and I could direct connect for free while he's on the road but they don't have coverage in the woods of Maine so we stayed with what we had. Just after we renewed, AT&T was bought by Cingular but our plan was managed by a seperate division within Cingular that handled all the old AT&T customers.

When I went in to get TB a new phone last Saturday, I was told that if I just wanted to replace the phone, I'd need to use the mail-order department that manages the AT&T customers and that I couldn't walk out with one right then unless I "switched" to Cingular. Since Cingular has been getting my money for a year now and since I couldn't fathom TB being without his phone for however long it would have taken to deal with the AT&T division, I just picked a new phone and switched him over. But, I kept my phone and plan with AT&T because my phone is fine, I never exceed my minutes, the cost was less with the Pepsi discounts and because, truthfully, I don't usually have more than 20 calls a month to or from my phone so I didn't see the need for the change.

Until this past Saturday night. When my phone

fell

in

a

toilet.

So, it looks like I'll be doing that change-over now anyway. I'm such an idiot.

Taking a leap

2005-08-19T00:04:00.000-04:00

One advantage to being just a little bit behind my friends in starting my family is that I got to watch them all venture into the realm of ECA's (extra curricular activities). I've watched them run around to soccer, t-ball, swimming lessons, dance class etc and, with the exception of swimming lessons once/week for a couple of months when Bam-Bam was 2, we've managed to avoid ECA's....up until now.

Why avoid such a milestone? Primarily because I've wanted to put off being on someone else's schedule for as long as possible. I love that we don't have to be anywhere at any given time on any given day. We're able to be spontaneous blah blah blah....I'm getting over it.

We're most likely signing the squirt up for Tae Kwon Do lessons with Mr. B three times a week. Mr. B used to work with Tall Boy and I when we worked at the grocery store back in the day. He's now a fourth degree black belt and has his own business at the same place the swimming lessons were. He, Bam-Bam, won't be able to test or advance because of his age and Mrs. B admitted that they usually won't take kids until they're 5 but I'm hoping the lessons will help with focus and discipline. I don't care if he doesn't get to test and he won't know he's supposed to. It's all good. And, I can't wait to see him in the Gy (I hope I spelled that right)

So, I've talked to Mrs. B and we can do a few visits for free before we commit but I'm pretty sure he's up for it. He's started doing karate chops while standing on the couch and watching Cartoon Network yelling "HEEEYA" this afternoon.

Granted.....kind of

2005-08-18T23:54:00.000-04:00

For those following my friend V's saga, the news this week is that her husband, J will be coming home in the next day or so.

The "kind of" is that he's only being allowed a 10 day leave. Certainly 10 days is better than none and better then his being totally discharged and losing all the benefits that their family so desperately need. And, I'm excited for her but disappointed too that it's only going to be for 10 days. It's not my nature to not see the bright side of this but I think her situation calls for more than 10 days.

But, alas, I don't get a vote so I'm just going to try to celebrate as much as I can for her. Her prayers, our prayers, your prayers have been answered, at least for now.

Me and my beautiful sisters....

2005-08-18T23:35:00.000-04:00

I know, it's a bit out of focus but you really can't expect too much from us considering we had just belted out the "Pina Colada Song" in the karaoke bar in Ogunquit. And, I cannot vouch for the sobriety of the photographer at the time the shot was taken either. He's cute as hell though.

Stuck in the Middle with You

2005-08-15T14:11:00.000-04:00

Yesterday we celebrated Tall Boy's parent's 50th wedding anniversary. Yes, you read that right, 50 years. It's more of a feat than you can ever imagine. Not only because they got married (a second for both of them) when dad was 32 and mom was 16 and pregnant with Tall Boy's older brother Mike but because they really just don't like each other much.

The gala was a blast though, considering how thrown together it appeared as we got closer and closer to the day. The food was a great mix of restaurant sides (pulled pork, corn bread, baked beans), home-made (potato salad, pasta salad, garden fresh string beans) and grilling (hot dogs and burgers). We had a huge tent set up to help us stave off the forecasted rain and nice glitter-covered tables with Lindt chocolate favors.

Tall Boy's family doesn't do gatherings very often which is the polar opposite of my family. We'll do anything to get together whereas they go into their events grabbing onto the floatation devices tooth and nail. Usually, when all is said and done, they've had a blast together but going into it you can see the fear and panic on all their faces, worried about whether or not they can pull off a few hours together without a bomb going off.

As is par for the course with them, we did in fact have a terrific time, particularly once Tall Boy's brother Tommy Tomskin rooked us out on to the dance floor by taking a request from my nephew's wife for "Billie Jean". We ended up dancing the last hour of the party away while occasionally checking in on what kind of damage Bam-Bam was up to.

What strikes me every time we get together with his family, though, is how in the middle he and I are among the group. Tall Boy is the "oops" baby that arrived 11 years after his parents were sure they were happy with their family of six. His oldest brother was 17 when Tall Boy came along and started his own family just a few years later. Tall Boy became a great uncle at the ripe old age of 31. In fact, our nephew's son is only two years younger than Bam-Bam. So, at gatherings, our role in the family is that of child to Tall Boy's parents and sibling to his brother and sister but when it comes to age appropriate points in our life, we fit in better with his nieces and nephews. His siblings are starting to be come grandparents and we're discussing preschools.

So, starting with the beloved MJ tune, we cut up the dancefloor squashed between the generations: Mom and Dad, his brothers, his nephews, Bam-Bam and his nephew's little guy Noley. We departed at the end of the night saying, as we so frequently do, that we'll have to do this again sometime. Christmas is right around the corner.......

Unhappy ending in sight....

2005-08-11T12:35:00.000-04:00

Some mom's get all antsy and excited as the summer starts to wind down, anxious to get their kids back in school and out of their hair. They long for the peace and quiet to return to their homes and the mayhem to be controlled to just a few hours at the end of each day. I completely see where those mom's are coming from. They struggle through the summer months with their children battling boredom and squabbles between each other and appreciate the difference in their families when their children are more focused and occupied by school.

I am NOT one of those moms.

As I look at the calendar tick away the last few weeks of summer sun, I'm sad. I love being able to spend each day with Bam-Bam, particularly on the days we're able to bask in the sunshine from the shores of Square Pond. I love how laid back we're able to be about our day. I love that we wake up when our eyes will no longer stay shut (although his arrive there long before mine would) and we don't necessarily have to stick to the bedtime schedule either.

I've already started paying preschool for the coming year and just thinking about him being back makes me anxious inside. I feel as though I will miss him after spending so much time together this summer. He's been difficult, defiant, argumentative and rambunctious as I'm sure those other mom's children are. But he's also been adventurous, curious, loving, playful, happy and excited. Maybe it's the extent of the journey I had to take to get him, but I really relish these times so much. He's never going to be this little, innocent boy for long and I'm grabbing feverishly at burning these days into my memory as deeply as possible.

Thank you, Tall Boy, for working as hard as you do to afford me this luxury. Your generosity, sacrifice and love for us is a gift I will treasure forever.

I love you both so very much. I have been blessed.

NOT granted....

2005-08-05T13:00:00.000-04:00

My friend, V, is still in a battle against the bureaucracy and I feel like she's dealing with this.

She's been discharged from the hospital but because of some of the medications she's on as well as having TWO damaged knees, she is not able to be by herself....for about 6 months. As we speak, she has moved in with MommaRia and her family who live about an hour away from V so that they can help take care of her.

Why? you ask? Why would V need to move in with a friend so far from home? Because the battalion commander for V's husband's unit is on some Nathan R. Jessup power trip and still will not release J from active duty to return home and care for his wife and child.

Now, I completely understand that AFGM is a movie and that in the movie, the country was not at war with Cuba so the urgency that Pfc William Santiago was adding to his request for a transfer was a little much but COME ON! J NEEDS to be home caring for his family but none of the actions they've taken so far seem to matter to his CO. How safe can it be for J or the men "fighting" next to him to have him mentally unavailable? How can the men that put themselves in harms way for the rest of us be treated so inhumanely?

I also want to take a sec to point out V's domain name: "proudarngwife". Proud! That woman has been so supportive and sacrificing and has stood behind her husband, his choices to serve our country, as well as the reason we're even in Iraq. She's sold magnets on the internet to raise money to care for the members of J's battalion with needs that can't come fast enough from the Army's supply. Her pride goes so much further than patriotism. She lives and breaths the cause every day.

And this is her thanks? This is her payback? Nope, I don't buy it. This is a malicious, misdirected superiority complex at the hands of the CO.

This whole situation is getting so ridiculous, it makes me sick.

**********************************
For Vanessa - A Soldier's Wife - Roxie Dean

Breaking News from a desert town
Smoke and rubble on the ground
The names we do not know right now
And it cuts me like a knife

With a tearful goodbye kiss
I sent him off to this
But I've gotta stay strong for our kids
I'm a soldier's wife

I run the house
I sleep alone
I live for e-mails
And the phone calls home
I tell my children he will be all right
And I hope it's not a lie
I'm a soldier's wife

We do the things we used to do
Go to church,
go to school
But you could drive a truck right through
The hole that's in our lives

My little boy shoots me a grin
And says he wants to be like him
And I feel my heart start caving in
I'm a soldier's wife

Sometimes I'm angry
Sometimes confused
I live and die byThe evening news
But I tell my babies he will be all right
And I hope it's not a lie
I'm a soldier's wife

I pray for strength
I pray for peace
I pray that he comes home to me
And if you would please pray for me
I'm a soldier's wife.

Granted!

2005-08-04T15:40:00.000-04:00

The Petition for the Mental Balance of Lacey has been received and processed and we are happy to report that it has been GRANTED!

We expect that this matter be deemed closed ask that you proceed with normal activity.

Thank you.

Answering a comment

2005-08-04T09:15:00.000-04:00

I have no idea who "FP" is because his/her profile is private and he/she posted their comment under what I'm sure was the wrong post but I'll respond anyway.

"FP" said: "Wow, there were a lot of nicknames in that post. I need Cliff's Notes"

I want to first mention that Cliff doesn't have notes, he knows the characters already, right Unc?

Sorry, inside joke. But, I think they are referring to my post about my Uncle Bookem's kids and the relationship we shared when we were young. What's most interesting about "FP's" comment is that the nicknames I used are all real. In fact, I think I may be the only one in my family that doesn't have a nickname. Bookem's really called Bookem. Tall Boy's really called Tall Boy and yes, I really call my kid Bam-Bam. We have a Kappy, a Chum, a Magee, a Muva, and a Brop. I don't know where the nicknaming started but it's one of those family things that we do to each other.

The other part of the comment that strikes me funny is that I can't understand why the nicknames make such a difference to the readers. Some people have weird names, right? I mean, there is one famous little girl named Apple Martin toddling around out there somewhere too. I personally think the choice of Apple with the last name Martin is just setting her up to be nicknamed "Apple Martini" but that's just me. Anyway, if I had replaced Bam-Bam with Apple, would you know whether I was using a nickname or not? Regardless of whether I use the nicknames or were to chose to use everyone's real name, how does that change how you read along? You don't know these characters anyway and if you do, you know their real names and can mentally interchange them while you read, right?

Interesting......

I should defy her the pleasure, but I can't

2005-08-04T08:58:00.000-04:00

Because Hunzer tagged me yet again...

Welcome to Thunderdome.

1. What were three of the stupidest things you have done in your life
1. Trusted the valedictorian.
2. Lost my license for 30 days for illegal transportation of alcohol at 20.
3. Flunked out of UNH after one semester.

2. At the current moment, who has the most influence in your life?
Bam-Bam.

3. If you were given a time machine that functioned, and you were allowed to only pick up five people to dine with, who would you pick?
1. Bampa
2. Jesus
3. Mother Theresa
4. Bono
5. Oprah (I know it's cheesy but it's true)

4. If you had three wishes that were not supernatural, what would they be?
1. To end poverty (I'm with you Hunzer)
2. To end violence against others
3. To have enough money to be able to relax and to also help others

5. Someone is visiting your hometown/place where you live at the moment. Name two things you regret your city not having, and two things people should avoid.

Regrets: We have nothing exciting at all to do here
Avoid: Calef's - it's not all it's touted to be

6. Name one event that has changed your life.
Giving birth to Bam-Bam

Still at it today

2005-07-29T19:20:00.000-04:00

Lacey's still a growling, barking freak at the deer today. I'm really starting to feel like a turd. Gonna corner Tall Boy tonight to get it up on the wall.....

Off to see P-Judd.

Today's Failed Rescue: Lacey and the Mount

2005-07-28T21:42:00.000-04:00

Tall Boy is a hunter. I knew it when I met him. Before Bam-Bam came along, he was basically gone to me from late September through November. He hunts with a bow, muzzleloader and rifle which gives him ample opportunity to be in the woods. There was actually quite a bit of discussion about my being able to get him to agree to a November wedding. He only agreed because we planned a night ceremony; he never would have agreed to a 10 am service. My only restrictions were that if he had a shot at a deer that morning (yes, he did in fact go hunting the morning of our wedding day) that he had to have it out of the woods and at the butcher by 2pm. Give and take.

In the 11 years we've been together, Tall Boy has actually shot two deer. The first, back in 1995 was a very small button buck that weighed in about what our golden retriever, Lacey, currently weighs. Not all that impressive. Certainly not mountable. He did have the hooves mounted in an upturned position and he uses it to display arrows and such.

His second kill was this past November. She was a nice doe that weighed in at 121 pounds. With his track record being as it is, he decided and I agreed that he'd get the head mounted in a nice shoulder mount that will grace our living room with tremendous pride. When she was laid out in the back of his father's Tacoma, I didn't realize how big the shoulder mount would end up but nonetheless, it is finished and has made it's way to our home.

He picked up the mount on Saturday, brought it home and put it up on our bed for the weekend because we were up at camp and it was at least safe there from the cat. Last night, upon returning home from camp, I moved the beautiful doe to the dining room table so I could sleep.

The move has traumatized poor Lacey.

She's been avoiding the great room, where the table is, all day. And, she's been growling quietly from whatever room she is in all day too. She'll be laying here next to me in the office and suddenly she'll grumble, even though the mount is not within viewing distance. Josey, the baby, has been barking at it sporatically but Lacey is just beside herself and it's killing me.

I tried like hell to get the deer up on the wall and in it's final resting place but wouldn't you know it, the stud finder died. Looks like I'll be getting a new one at Wally World tomorrow so as to not overload Lacey's anxiety level for much longer.

Imagine what will happen if he ever gets a moose......

The only part of all of this that is adorably cute is that Bam-Bam played "hunting" with daddy when he got up the morning. At one point as they passed by me on their way back outside, Tall Boy said to him: "But Buddy, where are you going to get the $1200 to pay the taxidermist for the three deer you've already got?".

***Note for those currently in a panic: playing hunting was completely imaginary. There were no real or play guns involved at all. Just "pretend" everything. Even to the point of pretend deer hanging from our trees out front. Neither one of us is ready for him to be playing with any guns (except water guns). To that end, I give you the accompanying video....

Drunken Rockstars

2005-07-22T12:30:00.000-04:00

Last night I was invited down to Paddy's for a mini class reunion. Ok, not so much an organized class reunion but one based on the love of a local band, Pondering Judd, that is shared by several of the characters within the graduating class from SHS, 1988 (man, now I'm dating myself).

James, who was my latch-on friend from the first minute I walked into the new school in 7th grade, has been trying to get together for drinks since I showed up at his grandfather's funeral several months ago. James and I have that kind of friendship. One without time limits or without that uncomfortable nervousness that develops when there is time that has ticked by without reaching out to each other. We both know that those minutes/hours/weeks/months between connections have no reflection on how much we care about each other. But, with life the way life is, finding a time when we can both say "I'll be there" with definitive certainty can be tough to coordinate.

So, when he and I talked two weeks ago to nail down a night that we'd both be able to commit, we chose last night and found out subsequently that PJ was playing at the old Officer's Club and chose it as our meeting place. When I called him yesterday afternoon to confirm that my truck repairs had managed to leave me 20 cents to rub together and that I could definitely go, he mentioned that several of my old school friends would be there as well.

The band gave it's predictibly rocking sets outside on the deck beneath a huge canopy to prevent Martimus from passing out. Success. Goose, with his wide toothy grin, nailed down the baseline with the other three bandmates sounding meshed and melded. While intermittently singing along to "42", "Slim", "Losing", "Three Towns Down" and "Red House, Red Truck, Red Neck", we all reconnected, laughed, picked on each other and begged for Shipyard t-shirts. Being the sober one, I didn't land a t-shirt but I got something better: time with lost friends.

James and I didn't get much time to chat. I showed off pictures of Bam-Bam and told a few stories about him but both of us were also busy visiting with other members of the Judd congregation. At one point, Gags, my dearest friend my junior and senior year in high school, came over to visit from another table. He's beautifully salt-and-peppered and hasn't lost a lick of his sense of humor. He proved yet again that he's obsessed with the roundness of his own ass and his penchant for breaking out into an English accent. He's still quick-witted, easy-going and still gives long, strong, memory-filled hugs.

When the set was over, a few of us moved on to Testy's huge new house. The blue margaritas and belly laughes continued there until well after 2 am. My stomach and cheeks are killing me today from the hysterics I was in for hours on end. The conversation was an incredible mix of nostalgia, loss of family figureheads and anecdotes about our kids.

In the years since I left high school, Tall Boy and I have accumulated several incredible friendships. Couples that we spend the majority of our gatherings with: trips, birthdays, days at the lake. Their gifts of sharing life with us is something that I am continually thankful for. I know that if I ever needed anything at all, anything, that I could pick up the phone and call either the husband or wife in these couplings and they would be right by my side. There's an indescribable comfort in their spot in our lives.

But spending time with the P-Judd fan club last night was mayhem based in history. Driven on memories made, stories recalled from that time in my life that existed before Tall Boy and Bam-Bam. It's a warm and familiar place before life took over, before I was one of the wounded , before jobs and mortgages and hectic schedules. At one point in the evening, just after Testy left Gags standing in the parking lot of Paddy's and I offered to drive him back to the house, Gag's turned to me and asked how things were for Tall Boy and I and I told him that we were excellent. We haven't always been but we are again, excellent. His answer gave me confidence that I've been able to return, at least a little bit, to who I used to be.

"Good, I'm glad to hear that. Because you deserve it, Hero, you always have.".

I love you too man.
--------------------------
Gags: My "I Go Back" track: In the Still of the Night by Whitesnake. Small Road camp and silver pick-up. Canoing the lake. Me, you and C-brother. "Play the na na na na song". Takes me right back.

Newfound Knowledge

2005-07-21T10:54:00.000-04:00

Five Things I've learned in the last few days/weeks:

Veternarians that tell you that your cats are pissing all over the laundry and every stray gymbag in the basement because they have a UTI are in fact just trying to buy time for said cats. In reality, the cats are just pissed and when they are pissed, they piss. That's it.
Four-year-olds and hip-hop can mix, when the proper filters are involved, as testiment to Bam-Bam requesting for a repeat play of GS's Rich Girl, louder then proceed to sing along "Na na na na na na......shouldn'tmattershouldn'tmattershouldn'tmattershouldn'tmatter". At least we didn't need to play the Spongebob Squarepants Soundtrack for the 373rd time.
Maine Outdoorsman-reading men don't necessarily make good boat-dockers and computer-savy, scrapbooking stay-at-home-moms just might. (Love ya Chum!)
If the garage tells you that they need to replace your alternator, ALWAYS get the battery replaced too. And, when the dealership that fixes your airbag and a few other minor things tells you they need to keep your vehicle two extra days because the tech said he did some of the work but in fact had done none of it and that you're the greatest customer they've ever had and for your patience you get a free $15 oil change when you're due for one again and then charge you $200 more than the $750 estimate for the work, turn on the tears. I didn't, and should have.
Then, a week later when the said unchanged battery dies and your vehicle won't start for the fourth time in three weeks just as you're trying to head over to the grocery store and hit the lake and you bring it to your favorite "local guy" and call at 4:15 to check the status and get surprised when a woman answers the phone, you just might break out into the new "Will Smith" language and ask "Hi, this is Hero, I've got the Explorer and I'm calling to find out what the giggy is?"

Well, look at that....

2005-07-20T09:51:00.000-04:00

I managed to fix the formatting problems all on my own by tweaking the template. I scare myself sometimes.....

Oh, and if you haven't stopped by here, I highly recommend it, particularly with the current entry. The woman is incredible.

I could KILL Hunzer for this but here goes....

2005-07-19T23:39:00.000-04:00

What I Was Doing...

10 Years Ago ~Tall Boy and I were attending wedding after wedding for many of our close friends. In fact, in October we were asked to stand up with our friends when they eloped. On the ride home from their wedding, we did extensive talking about where we were headed. A week later, he proposed.

5 Years Ago ~Five years ago we were deep into a fertility treatment. In May/June they had tried to do a supression cycle but my body just ate that right up and they canceled it just a few days in. The next month, they loaded me up with enough drugs to fertilize a herd of cattle. The weekend I ovulated, a very dear friend flew in from Florida to take in the Third Eye Blind concert with me. Vertical Horizon opened for them LOL. Anyway, for reasons my RE still cannot explain, I actually managed to get pregnant. We were worried for a few weeks that it might be multiples but I was lucky enough to be blessed with just Bam-Bam. The end of the three years had come.

1 Year Ago ~ Last year I got to take Bam-Bam to Philly to meet some friends and see Sesame Place. Spent the rest of the summer either working at the dog daycare or up at camp. It was a rough summer overall.

Yesterday ~ Yesterday I basically did a lot of nothing. Never got out of my pj's. Never left the house. I did wash bedsheets, dishes, etc and we had a terrific dinner but that's about it. One of my more enjoyable ways to spend the day.

5 Snacks I Enjoy ~
Ice cream
Rice Krispie Treats
Nutter Butters
Peanut Butter Chocolate Chunk Granola bars
Swedish Fish

5 Things I Would Do with $100 Million ~
Pay off debts and buy new cars
Buy a house on the lake
Travel to all 36 Nascar races for at least one full year
Donate to charities (particularly ones that would help people in Africa)
Invest

5 Locations I Would Like to Run Away To ~
Ireland
Square Pond
Ireland
Square Pond
Ireland

5 Bad Habits I Have ~
Biting my nails
Driving too fast
Swearing
Picking at my skin
Letting the housework go

5 Things I Like Doing ~
Fishing
Scrapbooking
Reading
Singing/Listening to Music
Spending time with family

5 Things I Would Never Wear ~
A bikini (at least not until I'm skinny again)
A tube top
Capri pants with the sheared sides
Leather chaps
Short, short, short shorts

5 TV Shows I Like ~
Rescue Me
Hell's Kitchen
ER
Law and Order SVU
Numb3rs

5Biggest Joys of the Moment ~
Being able to stay home to raise Bam-Bam
Being at the lake
Writing
Watching Bam-Bam swim
My marriage

5 Favorite Toys ~
Digital cable with DVR
Digital Camera
MP3 player
My computer
A deck of cards

Can we PLEASE get a quarum on this matter? [with phrasing I wish I could have included]

2005-07-18T23:26:00.000-04:00

Dear Senator-

I would like to lend my voice of support for my friend, W, in his request to return home from Iraq to care for his wife, V. As I'm sure you are aware by now, V has been hospitalized for the last week after suffering a series of seizures/strokes that have left her left side compromised. As of this morning she has been tentatively diagnosed with viral meningitis with encephalitis and was supposed to be transferred to the big hospital in town for further treatment and stabilization until said big hospital in town acted all "No Room At the Inn" on her this morning. To top all of that off, she is in need of surgery on one or possibly both of her knees once they are able to get her “healthy” again; a process that had started just before all this current issue began last Monday.

With her family out of state, having W return home to care for her and their four year old daughter, Pooh Bear, is imperative. So far, the petitions submitted on their behalf by the Red Cross have fallen on arrogant ears. It is my hope, along with V’s other friends that have contacted you, that you will be able to intervene with the powers that be opening the door for W’s to return to his wife's side.

While we understand that every soldier would not be able to be dismissed from active duty for every ingrown toenail, overplucked eyebrow or uneven breast augmentation, this situation has definitely progressed to a level of urgency that requires his participation in V’s direct care as well as being available to her during her expected extensive recovery period.

I appreciate your attention to this matter and hope that you will be able to lend your voice to this family’s cries for assistance. I'd like to also add that if you chose not to help us out, we may band together even more and have a sit-in or something on the front lawn of the Capitol Building.

Respectfully-
Hero
[although not feeling very heroic with this particular topic]