Let's Muse

The first cut is the deepest, right?

2011-01-24T12:33:00.000-06:00

So I experienced my first weekend of transporting the kids to a 'public' location for swapping with my ex-. It worked well, other than the hit to my coffee budget since we meet at a coffee shop and I'm both drawn to make a purchase because of the enticing aroma but also because it feels weird to come and go in an establishment and not throw a little cash their way.

The real win this weekend, though, was that setting this boundary felt right. And in feeling right, it reinforced that this was a long-standing need I had ignored and one that, now, I can really deal with and which will eventually allow me to continue my own growth and discovery. It didn't feel good, mind you, but it felt right. I guess right-feeling is as important as good-feeling, for now anyway. Divorce and parenting with an ex- will likely never be easy (who am I kidding- it will NEVER be easy), but learning to acknowledge that very fact and figuring out the "so, what next, then" puzzle will be fruitful for me as a mother, a woman, a person.

Man, it's been a while!

2011-01-21T11:39:00.003-06:00

And things have been going fine, yada, yada, yada-- 2009 was so long ago, it's not even worth updating you all. The quickest summary of all- still single, still mothering two kids, still working, still breathing. 'Nuff said.

But something this week happened that made me decide that it's time to dust this old blog off, if only for a few short weeks or months in order to process that which has happened. And sure, I'm doing a heck of a lot more private processing, but many friends watch out for me, and they are the ones I want to address here.

This week, I experienced a giant shift in the nature of my parenting relationship with my ex-husband. I had always bragged to my friends, colleagues, etc. about the amazing co-parenting relationship we had, how we always jointly put the kids ahead of our own wants or needs, how we approached everything as friends first. Sure our marriage had tanked given that he wanted out, but our parenting, man, we had that down pat.

A single decision changed all of that. This man that I had loved, this man that I had called friend, this man that I proclaimed to be the perfect co-parenting partner, this man ruined it. The decision was about high school for Wheat Thin, but this decision was about so much more than that. This decision was about who the ex- chose to support, why the ex- chose as he did, and the manner in which it all played out. He chose to support Wheat Thin (which normally I would agree is the right response, except for when Wheat Thin needs his parents to make the HARD decision so that more doors open to him and so that he challenges himself appropriately), he supported Wheat Thin because (in the ex-'s own words) he didn't want to hurt him again (which normally I would agree is the right response except for all of the professional advice from Wheat Thin's therapist that assured us both that Wheat Thin could handle this), and it all played out over about five days when I had been trying to engage on the topic for well over a year (which only matters because a looming deadline and an exhaustion from fighting created a perfect storm in which everything was blown apart).

Yes, I am upset that I 'lost' the fight (because I still believe so passionately, so wholly, so unreservedly that the decision that was made is the flat out wrong decision), but what upsets me more is the acknowledgment (some of my friends are screaming, "Finally!") that the ex- has used these same tactics over, and over, and over again in his version of co-parenting, and I have crumpled, and crumpled, and crumpled in order to maintain a 'good, healthy relationship' to display in front of the children.

So this last straw, as it were, is where I finally get real with the kids, real with myself, and real with the ex-. In one swift move I changed everything, sobbing while I did, about how he and I interact. And then I sat down with my children and explained everything to them about how this is a pattern I can't abide any longer, that I can't subject myself to the on-going pain of this relationship, and that while I know it impacts them, and I know they may feel like some of their own suffering is nigh, that I will continue to do EVERYTHING in my power to make sure that their needs are my top priority, but that I also have to protect my heart (and soul).

But now for some rejoicing, if I might. Since Wednesday, I have been raw with emotion, overwrought by tears and more than a dozen of my friends (some who I see and speak to regularly, some who I see and speak to frequently, and some who I haven't seen in years) all spoke out such words of hope, strength and wisdom to me that I became emblazoned by their courage, by their strength. Some of them spoke of awe towards me (and all I felt was awe towards them that they even care about what is happening- I mean come on, everyone has their own crap to endure, right). Many of them spoke of my skills as a mother (which you have to know felt like they were bestowing on me an award for a competition I never entered- feeling as I have this week that I have failed my kids so miserably with these actions). And every... single... one... of you, of them, spoke of their love for me (which, when you finally admit that the person you once gave all your love to hasn't loved you all along is the most amazing thing, to feel loved when you suddenly felt unlovable.. well, it's indescribable). So to all of you, those who spoke to me, those who wrote to me, and those who simply read those first words on Wednesday (or are reading these words now), thank you. And please know that I'll need all of these things for a very long time as this road that's become bumpy isn't likely to be smoothed out for a very long time.

Dudes, where have I been?

2009-07-16T11:39:00.003-05:00

It's seriously been a month since I posted... what's up with that? Oh, yeah, life.

Let's see, had our summer vacation; had Girl Scout camp; had some dates with that guy (and I keep having more); had some fun with A and AA; had a death in the family; had Boy Scout camp preparation; had Board meeting preparation; had a lake trip; had a lot of movie theater trips; had some firework lighting; had some beautiful backyard pool time; had some yard work; had some walks and bike rides; had more than my share of coffee, Diet Dr. Pepper, wine, beer, and chips (though not all at the same time); had some sleep (though never enough, really).

Yeah, that would explain it.

The clock plays tricks

2009-06-14T23:06:00.000-05:00

At 9:00 I was tired.

At 10:00 I climbed into bed.

At 11:00 I am still awake.

...sigh...

Waiting-- not my specialty

2009-06-13T09:23:00.000-05:00

When I'm meeting someone somewhere and I get there first, I get all nervous when the other people aren't at the place because I'm sure I'm at the wrong place...

Turns out, I'm in the right place and they are on their way-- yippee!

I need to tell you something, but you can't tell anyone...

2009-06-12T21:03:00.002-05:00

I've started seeing someone, someone new, and by seeing I mean have had a date, the second will occur this weekend, we've had some excessive texting and long phone conversations. I think I might like him-- he gives me butterflies when I see his number on my phone, hear his voice, and am an my way to meet him.

I'm so trying to keep it in check- you know, don't want to jinx it, but inside I feel all giddy, like a little girl. We'll see if giddiness continues, if giddiness is warranted, we'll just see in general...

Adventure, California-style

2009-06-04T23:29:00.000-05:00

Yesterday Wheat Thin, Twinkle Fingers, AA and I arrived at LAX for our summer vacation. Well, really it's our summer adventure.

We stayed the first night in Silver Lake- part of the Hollywood Hills, then this morning we drove 8 hours north to Orland, California, home of the west coast Farm Sanctuary.

The FS is a place where animals previously mistreated on factory farms, petting zoos, laboratories and the like are brought to live out their lives peacefully being well-loved by vegans and 'regular' animal lovers. We're staying on the Farm in the cabin-- we're loving it!!

Tomorrow we'll help out around here, preparing foods for the animals, brushing the goats, and lots of cuddling. We also happen to be the adoptive family to many of the animals so we'll be loving on them a little more than the others.

Saturday we'll head back to LA via the Pacific Coast Highway (yep, that means across the Golden Gate Bridge) for our final two days of our summer adventure California-style.

Much more to come, I'm sure.

He's 12-- approaching 13-- and I'm just not prepared

2009-06-01T15:38:00.000-05:00

I wonder as I sit out front of this swimming pool what happened to the baby boy I knew. It seems like in the blink of an eye he became 12, approaching 13. It seems that in the blink of an eye I'm picking him up from spending the afternoon swimming with two girls. It seems that in the blink of an eye he cares what friends think more than what I think.

Sure, these are all the right things. And I'm confident I'm raising a son who will make good choices (not every choice, but I'm hoping the majority) but I think deep down I'd prefer to have one or two more years before I had to start letting go.

Instead I'll enjoy knowing that he's a kid I like, and one not too independent to still hang with me in front of his friends. I love that Wheat Thin-- that's for sure.

I just don't get it...

2009-05-19T21:59:00.001-05:00

... DWTS just confounds me, always has, always will, I imagine. And know what, that's OK.

Coaching high point

2009-05-04T18:50:00.003-05:00

Tonight I started placing orders for all the supplies for the cheer squad this coming year. You know-- water bottles, hair ribbons, socks, a few shoes, a few bodysuits... Fun stuff. This is the part of coaching I'm especially good at-- the minutia!

Frenectomy Aftermath

2009-05-01T07:41:00.002-05:00

Twinkle Fingers continues to recuperate from her recent frenectomy with ease. She's still a bit swollen, still fairly sore, and still timid about the prospect of eating with the sutures in place. She has complained only minimally about the twice daily salt water rinse and Peroxyl swabbing (more the swabbing than the rinsing if truth be told).

She'll be wandering the halls of school today (and apparently a field trip that I wasn't aware of...) and so I expect I could get a call from the nurse to come and claim her, but none the less, for now, she's giving it the old college try.

Anxiety grows

2009-04-28T22:01:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow G and I take Twinkle Fingers to a gum specialist to have her frenulum addressed, possibly. See her orthodontist has become concerned about that small flap of skin that holds her top lips to her upper gums (we've all got them, I'll wait while you check yours in that mirror over there) thinking hers may be too tight and attached too low to allow the complete straightening of her two front teeth (Wheat Thin and I have compared ours to hers-- mine is the shortest, his is in the middle, hers is definitely the longest of the three). And while we all love her frenulum, we've agreed that if the gum specialist deems it necessary, a frenectomy she will have. As I think about it, I'm not sure why exactly, except that maybe because I've started paying a tidy sum to straighten her teeth and wouldn't want that little flap of skin to get the better of my investment (shallow, I know).

If you google the term, you'll come across a couple of disturbing YouTube videos (neither of which I can actually watch without freaking), but you get the idea. A small oral surgery that lasts about 45-minutes total and ends with two dissolving sutures and a reportedly swollen upper lip. The message boards make it seem tolerable (the videos remind me of some medieval torture).

For all of her trouble, Wheat Thin has been promised a day off from school on Thursday to recuperate and ice cream for every meal until the pain and swelling goes down (or for however long she can tolerate it before she tires of the sweetness (of the ice cream, not the pain and swelling, they likely won't be sweet at all), whichever comes first...). For all of my trouble, I get some growing anxiety about trying to help her through any fear she develops as we embark on this adventure. Wednesday will be quite a day, I predict.

This, that, the other, and then comes Monday

2009-04-26T21:10:00.003-05:00

This weekend was, in two words, exhausting and exhilarating. I spent time with the kids, which seems like something that has been in short supply. I spent time bringing order to the house, not a lot of time, but some time. I spent time at Target, procuring much needing things such as cat supplies, toilet paper, kleenex (important since allergies have taken hold of all of us). I spent time at various AMC Theaters (seeing in this order Earth, 17 Again, and Knowing). I spent time monitoring severe weather alerts reminding Wheat Thin that it is a rare occurrence that we would experience anything in our neighborhood. And I spent some time wandering the mall (hitting such hot spots as Game Stop, Justice, and Ann Taylor Loft).

Tomorrow is Monday and I'll be finally addressing the hold over work from last week- getting the minutes finalized from the Board meeting last week. Back in the swing, with the weekend in the rear view mirror.

Perspective

2009-04-14T09:44:00.002-05:00

On Sunday evening I broke my ankle. It's my already bad ankle, so while the pain was a little bit different and the swelling was a little more than usual, it wasn't really a big deal.

On Monday my surgeon put me back into my walking boot. It's the same boot I wore for a good portion of the spring and summer last year so while it took me a few minutes to readjust back into the correct stride, I quickly remembered how it all works. It wasn't really a big deal.

Today I find myself back at the office fielding lots of questions about what is wrong. I'm torn. These are the responses I believe I have to choose from:

"I broke my ankle." This response seems too dramatic and seems to request an amount of sympathy I'm just not needing.

"I have a hairline fracture of my fibula." This response seems too long and too detailed and seems to require an analytic discussion.

"I once again scrocked my crappy left ankle." This response feels accurate but seems to be a little harsh and potentially aggressive.

In reality, depending on the inquirer I'm responding with one of these. If additional Q&A ensues, the inquirer will learn that I have to wear the attractive boot for two weeks, that it was caused by imbalance and an affectionate cat, and that the cat saw no bodily violence only some choice words following the incident. But all conversations end with the same parting words, "Thanks, but I'm fine."

Green thumb wanted

2009-04-10T09:48:00.002-05:00

A little over a week ago I planted a terrarium. I had been wanting to do so for many, many months. So many months that The Nana had fulfilled a request to "keep an eye out for a covered glass container" for me by purchasing one at a garage sale LAST summer.

My terrarium container was appropriately washed, rinsed, and allowed to air dry over a few days. I visited a local nursery, shopped the succulents, selected two plants, small gravel, and succulent-specific soil. I planted the terrarium following the specifications I recalled from the article I found in my magazine (but then lost, so I'm not convinced I did it quite right...). My terrarium survived three days.

On day four I noticed the taller of the two succulents was shorter than when it had been planted. I'm not much of a gardener, but am pretty certain that healthy, thriving plants don't get shorter.

On day five, the taller succulent was turning a putrid olive green and growing shorter almost by the minute, and the smaller plant was graying.

On day six, it was over.

On day eight, I'll be dumping it into the trash.

I'm hoping to surprise The Knitter (who also happens to be a terrarium expert, among many of her observed expertness) at our Holy Saturday brunch and egg dying extravaganza (I so meant to not type "eggs-travaganza") with the supplies for a terrarium replanting in the hopes that she'll take pity on me and walk me through a successful succulent sowing. I've killed nearly every plant that has ever been entrusted to me, so success in the terrarium planting world would be like a whole new lease on life. Time will tell.

The walls are easing off a bit

2009-03-20T13:59:00.002-05:00

For the past several weeks I've had an overwhelming feeling that the walls of our house are closing in on me. It's all the crap I've accumulated... it's become ridiculous. I lecture Wheat Thin and Twinkle Fingers fairly frequently about keeping only the necessities, but have failed to heed my own instructions.

Spring break has been my opportunity to make things right (or at least get started on making it right). So far I've weeded out all the old movies we don't watch anymore and organizing the movies we do watch; I've weeded out most of my books deciding that they don't equate with security or a reflection of my intelligence (and since I got my Kindle, I'll be accumulating electronic books in the future) which allowed me to get rid of a bookcase; I've cleaned out the garage and made more space and began to identify garage sale materials; given that I freed up two walls without the bookcase, I've started a wall of family pictures which means I've cleared off several tabletop surfaces that used to be crammed with pictorial memories.

I still have much to accomplish-- I have to sell, or otherwise dispose of, the rejected movies and books; I have to purchase six or so frames to complete the picture wall for now; I have to recycle a significant number of old (very old in some cases) magazines; and I have to finish all the regular picking up that has gone unaddressed while I obsessed about these other needs. I'm hoping to accomplish all of this by the time I return to work on Tuesday morning.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can. And I think that once these things are done, the walls will seem a little farther away than they were when I started this process... time will certainly tell.

Blah, blah, blah, I hate DST, blah, blah, blah

2009-03-08T22:37:00.001-05:00

I say the same thing every year, I hate DST. Just wanted to make sure you all knew I still don't like it. Blah, blah, blah.

An emptying of my brain

2009-03-04T22:25:00.002-06:00

Things have been swirling about in my brain and I thought the best solution is an emptying of my brain, so here goes:

1. I'm increasingly awed by the sheer number of technological advances I employ on a daily basis for convenience. I do not want to give any of them up permanently, but I have acknowledged the calm I find in doing the simple things again simply. You know-- washing the dishes by hand instead of in the dishwasher; cleaning the bathroom floor by hand instead of with the Swiffer; steaming the vegetables on the stove instead of in the microwave. I certainly prefer my world to that of say the settlers who were well versed in open fire cooking, river laundry, and the mending and darning of their clothes (or something like that). But there's nothing wrong with choosing the less high-tech approach now and again.

2. The New Guy bailed (which is fine, his loss, blah, blah, blah), so I'm back to active eHarmony action. Recently I was matched with a guy I went to high school with who I'd been known to have a crush on-- he's "pursuing another relationship" so that crush remains unrequited (which is probably better, it likely could never live up to my imagination (anyone remember Monica dating Chip on Friends??)). So for now I'm chatting with a brutally direct guy who is already asking what I might not like about him based on my limited knowledge gained by asking about eight questions and reading a profile. I guess what I'll tell him for now is that I don't really like brutal honesty that asks me to draw conclusions for which I have not been given enough information.

3. A friend of mine has a friend who is enduring a recurrence of a hideous cancer. I don't know the friend, but today as I read about her family, her struggle, the power of love around her, my heart simultaneously broke and grew with hope for them. This story has remained with me all day, has made me see my world differently, has made me glad that this woman and her family have the love they have, especially that of the friend who shared this story. I'm praying hard for this family, as hard as I've prayed for anyone ever before. And I'm grateful to be allowed to glimpse this journey so that I may see real love and its power in their lives.

You know that pain in your lower, right quadrant, it might be an appendcitis

2009-02-24T19:05:00.002-06:00

Last Wednesday morning, as I sat at my computer diligently working, a strange feeling came over my abdomen. A strange feeling that quickly became a pain. A pain that after an hour or so settled in the "lower, right quadrant" of my abdomen. By 10:30 or so, my coworker and I were searching WebMD for possible diagnoses and I began to think maybe it was an appendicitis.

I had a couple of things I had to accomplish including a two-hour training session scheduled to last from noon until 2:00 p.m. I kept thinking, nay hoping, that the pain would subside. A little after 2:00 I realized it wasn't going away. So I packed up my things and headed out, wondering how to handle this strange, sick feeling. I called around but no one was able to pick the kids up from school last minute, so I headed to the circle drive to wait and perhaps call the doctor.

Instead of calling my family physician right away, I decided to call AA and Dr. Mini for their medically relevant opinions. They were both concerned, but not alarmed, and Dr. Mini recommended calling my family doc to see if I could get an appointment. Here's the thing, if you call your family doc, describe lower, right quadrant pain accompanied by nausea, he or she will likely reply, "You need to go to the emergency room." When you ask, "Couldn't I just come see you?" he or she will likely reply, "You need to go to the emergency room." When you push again by asking, "How about an urgent care clinic, they should be able to take a look at me, right?" he or she will emphatically reply, "YOU SHOULD GO TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM."

So I dropped Wheat Thin (who was very worked up over the turn of events) and Twinkle Fingers (who thought perhaps she had won the lottery getting extra time with The Nana) with The Nana and drove myself to the emergency room. Now, before you start to wonder how anyone that could love me would allow me to drive myself to the emergency room allow me to clarify a few things: 1) I have an extraordinarily high tolerance to pain, I think; 2) who else was going to do it, sure I could have waited for someone to drive me, but I really thought it best to just get it over with; and 3) I'm extremely stubborn, I was driving myself, end of discussion.

I arrived at Shawnee Mission Hospital's new emergency department and was quickly impressed with their triage system, a system that had me through the first "level" of evaluation before AA was even able to meet me there (she left from her office to meet me as soon as she heard I was headed to the ER). I was quickly placed in the emergency department, had an IV placed, and informed I was going to see a physician then have a CT scan. After the emergency doc evaluated me by palpating my abdomen (ouch), wrenching my hip inwards (OUCH!), and asking a million questions (blah, blah, blah), she announced, "I'll be shocked if this isn't an appendicitis... but we'll see what the CT shows and how your blood work looks." A couple of hours passed, I consumed some vile contrast, endured an uncomfortable CT scan that included a contrasting agent in my IV that made me feel like I was wetting myself, caved and asked for anti-nausea meds and morphine (morphine, people, I never take pain meds even after my ankle surgery and they were giving me MORPHINE and it was good) to be told that all the diagnostic tests did not indicate an appendicitis. The doc offered two options: a) go home with morphine and anti-nausea meds with orders to visit my family physician in the morning if the pain continued which would likely then result in my doc reordering the same rounds of tests for another evaluation; or, b) be admitted to the hospital, continue the pain and nausea meds via IV, and be evaluated by a general surgeon in the morning. She recommended option b) as it reduced the level of radiation a young, relatively healthy woman would receive-- AA agreed, and so they admitted me.

About the time we decided to let them admit me, A arrived and AA headed home. They moved me to a room, I had a hospitalist visit me in my room, I received another dose of morphine and tried to get some sleep. I was only marginally successful.

It's worth mentioning here this small fact-- I ate my last meal on Tuesday evening with The Nana and The Grandpa at about 6:00 p.m. Wednesday I felt so ill I didn't eat, and the minute they mentioned "general surgeon" the possibility of allowing any food or drink for me was quickly dwindling.

Thursday morning found A and AA both back at the hospital waiting for someone, anyone, to stop by and provide me with some information. I continued to take morphine, and anti-nausea meds, and to send odd messages by email and text to coworkers as I tried to distract myself from the growing pain. The surgeon, Dr. Farlalalalahoven (not her real name, but really not far from the real name, I think), visited Thursday afternoon and requested another test to rule out the gall bladder-- a scan of some sort.

So Thursday afternoon I was taken to the neuromedicine lab for an hour-long test that I now call the Mean Test. The Mean Test included them administering a contrast agent into my IV and then a series of "pictures" were taken of my liver and gall bladder as the agent moved from one organ to the next. Once the bulk of the agent entered my gall bladder, the Mean Testers administered a drug that caused my gall bladder to contract as they continued to take pictures so they could determine at what "level" my gall bladder was functioning. It was unpleasant.

When I got back to my room, and the surgeon had been contacted about the test, the nursing staff announced that I could have a clear liquid diet until midnight, but that I would be having at least my appendix and likely my gall bladder out the following afternoon. I slept less well Thursday night, but immensely enjoyed being allowed to have jello, Sprite, and water until midnight.

Thursday also found my room full of people stopping by to wish me well, and taking care of things. AA and Dr. Mini drove my car home, my parents brought a plant, Wheat Thin and Twinkle Fingers stopped by with The Nana, and The Knitter came by on the way home from work. I was exhausted, but it was nice knowing that all my bases were being covered!

Friday morning I finally met again with the surgeon and I made sure she knew just how badly I wanted to keep my gall bladder-- it serves a purpose and I didn't want to have it removed for no good reason. Even though my gall bladder only functions at 30%, I'd rather it be doing that than 0%... She agreed that unless it had adhesions or scar tissue visible, she'd leave it be, but the appendix was definitely coming out.

Friday afternoon was the surgery. From my perspective, it seems to have gone fine. There were some glitches apparently. Such as the realization that from an anesthesiologist's perspective I am a "difficult intubation." They tried several times to intubate me but ended up having to use a GlideScope to accomplish the feat (I now am the proud owner of an official letter declaring this inadequacy of mine and was sternly encouraged by the doctor to make sure this is known by all who might need to perform this type of procedure on me). The next morning I could feel just how challenging it was by the soreness in my throat-- it felt like I had tonsillitis on top of everything else. But little more than an hour after getting back to my hospital room post-surgery, AA and I were walking the halls, me feeling completely pain-free (at least in the lower, right quadrant!). At midnight I requested my last doses of anti-nausea meds and morphine, thinking I needed something to help me sleep at least a few hours before returning home.

Saturday found me being released (but not before a last ultrasound on my right calf that had developed a sudden feeling of a muscle pull which was scarily like a possible blood clot, but wasn't!!) and taking my tired, sore body home. And tonight, Tuesday, I still feel like I was hit by a truck, with periods of energy and lethargy followed by naps and small activity. I'll try heading to the office tomorrow for a few hours, and then Thursday maybe a few more hours. I was already scheduled for vacation Thursday afternoon and Friday for a long weekend at the lake, so I'll finish my recuperation in a luxurious lake house swimming in the bath tub and eating delicious food with A and AA, celebrating AA's birthday. What an end to a surreal adventure...

I've got a story to tell

2009-02-20T20:09:00.000-06:00

But not right now. Right now I'm laying in a hospital bed, one-hour post op from an appendectomy. I'll tell you all about it, in a couple of days or so.

In the meantime, morphine may be my new best friend-- sorry old best friends.

Twenty-four for Forty

2009-02-14T20:57:00.003-06:00

Some birthdays are celebrated quietly. Some birthdays are celebrated with many friends. Last night I participated in a celebration of a very important birthday with a wonderful group of friends. AA turned 40-years-old on the eighth, but last night we brought together twenty-four friends to help celebrate.

AA, Snoop, New Guy, and I were carried to the celebration by a Friendly Driver that AA hired to serve as our designated driver (our FD was also a family friend who was able to celebrate with us). Our destination: The Pin-Up Bowl. Once there, friends joined the party from all around—church friends, yogi friends, work friends, and family all together for one goal—loving AA.

Bowling has never been my preferred past time even though I spent a couple of winters in a league while living in Minneapolis. But when a large group of people get together, in a bowling alley, wearing someone else’s shoes, it’s hard not to get a little into the game. The point of the bowling wasn’t the bowling per se, it was having fun with people all brought together to celebrate AA. There may have been some illegal wagering going on, but I’m not naming names, you all know who you are and I’m still waiting for my cut.

There was laughter, there were photos, there was drinking, there was hugging, there was dancing, there was serving of the AA Birthday Jäger Shot (ewww, but I do it EVERY year...), there was a late dinner at a near-by eatery, there was more drinking, there was more laughter, there were more photos. There was, in the end, a whole lot of fun.

Getting home around midnight; chatting until 1:00 a.m.; making sure everyone was safe to drive their last legs home; climbing into bed at 2:00 a.m. It was the perfect evening celebration of a dear sister turned 40. And I can hardly wait to see what future celebrations- birthday or not- bring.

"I'm sexy!!!"

2009-02-09T13:51:00.002-06:00

Saturday night was my first foray into Boy Scout "overnights." I accompanied Wheat Thin on the February camp out which really wasn't a camp out at all but an evening trip to Snow Creek in Weston, MO. It seemed harmless enough-- it likely wouldn't include many other women nor would it include actually sleeping-- the best case scenario I could have seen thus far in the overnight activities of this troop. {Please note that throughout the rest of this post I will use the term "mountain" to describe what we skied upon acknowledging that in Missouri it's not really a mountain but that referring to it as a hill makes me seem even lamer than I am; bear with me, please.}

We met the rest of the group at the same Catholic church we always meet at around 6:00 p.m. Saturday night and promptly arranged to ride with another dad, his two kids, and a third kid in a very pretty, very large, Suburban (I have a new respect for moms who drive these behemoths-- it was huge, but oh so luxurious!).

We arrived at Snow Creek, donned our ski gear (including boots but excluding a lot of the bulkier ski gear given the wonderful temperatures we had been experiencing), grabbed our skis and poles and headed outside to learn how to ski. We first had the opportunity to get a little pre-lesson lesson from another Scout mom and dad which was really helpful, and before too long we were skiing down the bunny slope unaided and enjoying it. After almost an hour of that, our lesson was scheduled to begin so we split up-- kids with one instructor, adults (and by that I mean me) with another instructor.

The kids were off and learning while I was getting lectured and reading along on a card about the "rules" of skiing. I got some terse instruction, followed by some examples to follow, and finally a trip down the bunny slope. I was doing fine until he insisted I learn and execute the step turn and parallel turn-- neither of which I found very easy. Try as I might, I couldn't convince myself to turn one way while still pointing my torso "down the hill!"-- it was counter-intuitive and it there is one thing I normally am it's intuitive. But Al would have none of my questions, he was a "listen then do" sort of guy (who also said "OK" a lot, even when it wasn't OK, not really OK at all as I was lying in the snow trying to figure out how in the blazes to get up already!).

I ended up riding the chair lift successfully, and then unsuccessfully careening down the mountain falling twice in the process, and sliding a good portion of the way on my back- head first-- all while still wearing the skis-- the whole for safety your skis will "pop off" not really happening for me. Following this, and the end of my official lesson with Angry Al, I had this conversation with Wheat Thin:

WT: Why wouldn't that guy help you up when you fell?!?

M: (first a shudder at the thought that Wheat Thin had seen my display of uncoordination) I think he just needed to make sure I could get up on my own.

WT: He was just mean! I wanted to come down there and yell at him-- You help my Mom up, you big jerk!!

M: How sweet-- it was OK, really. Hey, I'd like to head inside and get a soda and relax a bit before we head out again. (sighing and thinking, I may never breathe normally again)

WT: OK, Mom, I'll come with you.

That's where I stayed, having decided that two hours of hurling myself down a mountain was probably all I needed to accomplish for the day. Wheat Thin continued to ski with his friends, and I apparently missed one of the most excellent spills and rolls in skiing history executed by Wheat Thin (which resulted in our friend telling him, "If your Mom had seen that, she would've crapped her pants" presumably from laughter). In the end neither of us was seriously injured, and for that we are both grateful. We agreed we'd definitely try it again next year with the Scouts and before if we could garner the gumption. But our story does not end here...

It was 1:20 a.m. or so as we started home from Weston, the driver and I chatting about his heroic (or as I might call them insane) skiing antics of youth, the kids all watching a movie in the fancy truck. We arrived at the Catholic church where my car was the lone soldier standing in the darkness. We climbed out of the big truck and slogged our way into our vehicle ready to head home. We were just pulling out of the church parking lot when I made my first glance into the rear view mirror and there it was-- as large as the entire back window, emblazoned in white-- "I'M SEXY!!!"

M: WHAT!!!???!!!??? IS???!!!???!!! THAT?!?!?!?!?!

WT: What?

M: THAT!!!

WT: (having turned around in the direction I was pointing over my shoulder) WHAT????!!!!!

(both of us laughing)

M: Who??

WT: I know, who???

M: Who would do that??? It's crazy! And now, I'm driving around, oh no, here comes another car, they're going to see it!!

WT: Who WOULD do that!?

M: This is crazy...

WT: This is insane...

(both of us laughing and continuing this very conversation over and over)

WT: It was probably some teenager, or someone we know.

M: Who would we know that would do this AND knew where our car was tonight? It must be teenagers.

WT: Crazy teenagers...

M: Crazy Catholic teenagers... (waving at the car passing us) Hey, yeah, I'm sexy, that's me alright.

And so our ski adventure continued all the way home and until 2:30 a.m. when we both finally crawled into bed to stay until at least 11:00 a.m the next day. And by the way, two days later and I can still barely bring my arms up or stand up without first taking a deep breath (but not too deep because of my aching abs) and steeling myself for the burn... Sweet, sweet parenting!

The house that phlegm built

2009-02-03T19:06:00.002-06:00

We've been sick. By we I mean me, Twinkle Fingers, and Wheat Thin. We've been sick with different things. Wheat Thin and Twinkle Fingers were sick with stomach aches that never amounted to much (thankfully). I, on the other hand, have been sick with a cold. A cold that has included an over-abundance of phlegm. A cold that moved into my chest as a dry hacking cough. A cold that kept me up a good portion of last night. A cold that gave me the equivalent of pink eye with all that entails (matting, itching, weeping, yuck-ing).

Wheat Thin and Twinkle Fingers are back to normal and back to school this week. I didn't make it to work today- what with the lack of sleep and the frightful looking eyes... Tomorrow, tomorrow has to be better, tomorrow has to have less phlegm, tomorrow has to have fewer coughs and fewer itches and less weepy-ness.

The Coterie

2009-01-29T18:23:00.002-06:00

The kids and I have had season tickets to The Coterie Theater for about seven years, probably. We love their shows and choose three shows each season to attend-- one for all three of us, and one for each of the kids individually to share with me.

Wheat Thin very early on thought it looked fun this acting thing and soon began asking for opportunities to take acting classes. For several spring breaks and several summers he attended workshops through the Gorilla Theater and this past summer graduated to taking two workshops through The Coterie. At the end of the session, his teacher asked him to participate in an audition session with the artistic director. Wheat Thin did and we never heard another word about it. We didn't care, it was fun for Wheat Thin (the whole point) and good experience for him to continue to get up in front of people (skills his dad and I use all the time in our jobs and that most people find beneficial at some point in their lives).

We never heard another word until today that is. Today is the day I received an email from The Coterie notifying me that the director for the upcoming production, The Witches by Roald Dahl, would like to see Wheat Thin for one of the two male child leads, "strong roles" both apparently. He'll need to pick up some sides to perform, and polish his British accent, and read the novel all before the 13th of February-- not a huge deal, probably. It's a long way from being a role, he knows, but we are pretty excited (and more than a little anxious) about the possibility. If nothing else, more good experience for Wheat Thin and hopefully even some fun getting to see what a real callback audition is like.

On a roll

2009-01-27T20:46:00.003-06:00

I spend days, weeks, months avoiding chores. I hate them. If I could figure out how to have everything be disposable without poisoning the earth, I so would. Laundry- blech. Dishes- blech. House cleaning- blech. Bill payment- blech.

So Sunday, I: did laundry, organized 2008 documents. Yesterday, I: paid bills, did dishes. Today, I: filed my taxes, finished laundry, unloaded the dishwasher. Well, I haven't actually done all those things yet, I paused for this, but I will in the next few minutes or so (I just have to do that stinkin' dishwasher). Tomorrow, I will: dust, vacuum, and fold laundry (maybe).

Decision Unmade

2009-01-26T17:20:00.002-06:00

I made a decision last year, last spring to be specific. But now I'm rethinking that decision. In fact, I've unmade that decision I made. And now I'm researching and pondering the whens, wheres, whats and whos of the decision and am pretty excited about the possible answers. I know the what, and the likely who. I don't yet have the when and where nailed down. And the who will need time to work on the decision, so likely the when is out of my hands. Sometime all the puzzle pieces will fall into place.

Timely

2009-01-21T22:09:00.002-06:00

I've been in a funk this month-- a strange blueness that overcomes me, makes me want to crawl into bed, cover my head with a pillow and sleep for a long time; makes me want to sit on the couch, flip the channels aimlessly; makes me want to skip work indefinitely. And what I realized yesterday-- this happens every year at this time. And that acknowledgement makes me feel less blue (slightly).

As I climbed into bed last night and grabbed my journal, I flipped to January 2008 and realized the pattern for the first time. I gently placed it back on the nightstand, unable to write about anything, but thinking about what drives me to this place each year.

I haven't put my finger on it yet. Part of it might be the need to be "on" so much during the holiday season. Part of it might be simply starting a new year and maybe not being exactly where I might want to be. Part of it might be physically turning another year older each January, and still not being where I might want to be. Part of it might just be the season, perhaps winter isn't my "season." Whatever it is, perhaps just knowing it is is enough right now.

I'll keep getting out of bed because I have friends and family and kids and a job and they all require me to be present. And I'm certain that this funk will pass-- eventually. (sigh)

OK or not OK? Let me address

2009-01-14T12:07:00.003-06:00

Sometimes I want to yell at the world, but the world doesn't have an email address or listed phone number. Instead I'll air my annoyance here and allow my venting to have somewhat of an audience.

I text. I text a fair amount. I text a fair amount using text "abbreviations." I think this is OK.

I email. I email a fair amount. I email a lot, actually. I email a lot and I ALWAYS spell out all the words I want to use (save for acceptable, everyday slang that say my mother would know). I think this is OK.

I post on friends' blogs or other social networking venues. I post on friends' blogs or other social networking venues a fair amount. I post on friends' blogs or other social networking venues a fair amount and I ALWAYS spell out all the words I want to use (save for acceptable, everyday slang that say my mother would know). I think this is OK.

If you use text "abbreviations" in communications other than texts, this is not OK. I feel a need to repeat myself-- this is NOT OK. What you are saying to me when you communicate with me in this manner is basically this, "I have something to say to you. However, my time is valuable, and the communication to you (or maybe just you) aren't really that important. So I'm planning to communicate with you so rapidly I can't even bring myself to utilize all the letters that my basic English education from high school has instructed me to use. I think you kinda suck, I guess." This is not OK.

I ask this of the world-- slow down, type all the letters, and send decent, readable communications to one another, unless you're typing out that communication on a phone dial pad, then abbreviate away people.

Sometimes a milk shake tastes a little like crack

2009-01-12T21:05:00.002-06:00

And one of those times is when you've met some good friends for a glass of wine at JP Wine Bar, had a flight of delectable red wines, then a glass of one of those delectable wines, with just a little bit of hummus to eat, and you're driving home with a bit of a headache thinking, "Man, a milk shake sounds good right now." Sometimes, a milk shake tastes like more than just a milk shake.

How much trouble could I get into if I barricade the door?

2009-01-08T22:03:00.003-06:00

I've never thought of myself as a parent that tries to keep hold of her kids. I mean I've always thought that I've encouraged growth and the spreading of wings for both of them. I've tried, at least, to teach them and then give them the space to figure out what to do with the knowledge. But tonight I attended the first of two middle school preparation meetings and I'm beginning to feel a little bit like I'd like to rewind the clock and keep Wheat Thin young for a little while longer.

I think I know that Wheat Thin is a respectful, bright, savvy young man. But I think I also know that as one's peers begin to carry more influence the possibility of bad decision making increases. I think I know that Wheat Thin will have little or no problem handling the academic challenges that lay ahead. But I think I also know that so far he's been able to wrap the faculty of his elementary school around his little finger. I think I know that Wheat Thin trusts me and confides in me. But I think I also know that this confidence may feel lamer as his concerns seem to outpace my level of, shall we say, cool... I mean I do know I'm his mom.

So as I sit here and think about the next academic year, and all those that follow, I wonder what he'll be like, and I wonder what I'll be like. And I wonder where we'll stand together and where we'll stand in opposition. And most of all, I wonder where we'll end up when the day comes that we drop him off for college. The coming years hold so much possibility-- including barricading him in his room for a few more years, just until I get used all of this.

Rapid Maxillary Expansion Appliance

2009-01-08T12:58:00.002-06:00

That's what they call the hunk of metal now cemented into Twinkle Finger's mouth. She also has a bracket on each of her two front teeth. The brackets aren't yet wired together yet, just decorated with colorful bands (ruby and purple to be exact).

She had a little anxiety as the process started but she quickly pulled herself together and busted out the rest of the appointment. Now she's hanging in there, over-saliva-ing and lisping, but trying to be up-beat.

Now the fun starts-- we turn the expander every other day, and revisit the orthodontist in four weeks. Let the adventure begin!

The iron is calling...

2009-01-07T16:59:00.002-06:00

yet here I sit. Twinkle Fingers gave me a new, larger, prettier, more fabulous waffle iron for my birthday on Sunday. And I think tonight is the perfect night to try it out. But I can't seem to bring myself to get to it... I must get to it, right, Internet...??? OK, here I go, I'm going, really, I'm ready to make us some waffles.

Helvetica

2009-01-06T22:29:00.002-06:00

Right now on Independent Lens on PBS is Helvetica. I love listening to all the interviewees of European descent saying the word, "helvetica." It sounds so.. I don't know... sexy. Even the guy who thinks it's crap sounds sexy as he says, "stupid helvetica." PBS is so awesome, I should watch it more.

So many thanks are due

2009-01-04T20:24:00.003-06:00

Wheat Thin, Twinkle Fingers, and I are home from our final birthday celebration. Turning 39-years-old today wasn't as painful as I imagined it would be (and no, it wasn't because I was wearing elastic-waisted pants). It was because so many people decided to share time and/or wishes with me; being reminded that you are known by people is a wonderful cushion to aging, I think.

So to all of you who called, emailed, facebooked, gave gifts, bought meals, kissed, hugged, laughed, reminisced, dreamed, and planned with me over the last two days-- thanks. Not just any thanks, but heartfelt thanks with tears in my eyes, a song in my heart, and all of you on my mind-- you made my day so very special. I look forward (sigh) to turning another year older, and another, and another (the alternative is rather bleak) in the midst of so much love.

The Nines

2009-01-03T21:40:00.002-06:00

When I turned nine-years-old (in 1979), I celebrated by having a birthday party at Skateland South at 103rd and Mastin in Overland Park.

When Wheat Thin turned nine-years-old (in 2005), he celebrated by having a birthday party at Skate City at 103rd and Mastin in Overland Park.

Today, we celebrated my 39th birthday* by having a birthday party at Skate City at 103rd and Mastin in Overland Park.

When Twinkle Fingers turns nine-years-old (in 2009), she plans to celebrate by having a birthday party at Skate City at 103rd and Mastin in Overland Park.

I think it's funny.

*I actually turn 39-years-old tomorrow, but who wants to party on Sunday??

It's so pretty

2009-01-02T22:21:00.002-06:00

I can't believe I didn't tell you, Internet! I can't believe it's been three days and I haven't even remembered to tell you... how remiss I have been.

We bought a new TV (and when I say "we" I mean me, because Wheat Thin and Twinkle Fingers didn't have anything to do with the purchase really). And when I brought it home, Wheat Thin and I hoisted it onto the mantle. Wheat Thin hooked it up (he's 12, he knows so much more than I do about this kind of thing, who are we kidding). Twinkle Fingers turned it on.

And we all declared, "It's so pretty." And it is.

An end and a beginning comes around this time each year

2008-12-31T18:39:00.003-06:00

And so it's New Year's eve, the night on which many people celebrate the passing of time with drink, food, friends, and fun. I'm no different.

I'm celebrating the end of another successful year-- nothing remarkable happened mind you but successes abound. I continued single parenting and Wheat Thin and Twinkle Fingers are continuing on the road to becoming exceptional people, I think. I am still employed by the same organization that I have come to believe in so much. I don't really want for anything (sure, I covet a larger home with more bathrooms, or fewer bills, but I have everything I need). My chosen family continues to thrive with new births, new opportunities, new challenges to overcome, and new little things to celebrate. My biological family is healthy including my 94-year-old grandfather, 70-year-old father and all the others.

So as 2008 ends, and 2009 begins, and I look towards what lies ahead I am at a loss to know what the year holds, but I'm eager to see it all unfold- the good, the bad, the ugly, the challenging, the easy. It continues to be one adventure after another. Cheers!

I'll admit it, I teared up

2008-12-30T21:32:00.002-06:00

So lots of people are blogging, Twittering, FaceBooking, and likely even You Tubing (this verb's for you, New Guy) about this little movie, Marley & Me. And yeah, I saw it with Twinkle Fingers. And OK, so I teared up a bit-- I mean you'd probably have to be pretty hard-hearted to-- SPOILER ALERT, people, STOP READING IF YOU DON'T KNOW THE SHTICK, IF YOU HAVE BEEN LIVING IN A CAVE OR HAVEN'T SEEN MOVIES LIKE THE SIXTH SENSE-- watch a family bury their beloved pet.

But here's the thing, I'm not really a pet person. Sure we have a cat-- well, we had two until I had to make a very sad decision this summer and it was a hard decision and I felt horribly afterwards. But overall, I don't have those emotions that many people have with their pets like they become a real part of the family. For me, they are always something the family owns. And that's my own baggage to deal with, I know.

But one portion of the movie reminds me very much of a situation I found myself in after the birth of Twinkle Fingers when in a moment of shear idiocy, G and I adopted a border collie mix. I can't remember even what we named her, it was something close to Fly I think because Wheat Thin was on a Babe, the Gallant Pig movie kick and he loved those dogs (even though he was terrified of real live dogs, and we thought apparently that he just needed to have a terrifying dog around him all the time to scare the fear out of him or something). Well, this dog was Marley-esque in that one day she ate a pillow, used her kennel for a latrine, and basically terrorized Wheat Thin so horribly while G was at the office that upon his return I made him take her away, back to the adoption agency, and I felt relieved, glad even, to watch them back out of the driveway.

So as I watched this movie that made me cry I realized I really am not a dog person, otherwise, that dog, whatever her name was, would have had a real home and it would have been our real home, like the movie family's real home was Marley's real home. But it wasn't, and really, deep down, I'm OK with that. Because I have a heart, I teared up, dammit.

And I begged, "Let there be liiiiiight..."

2008-12-29T13:39:00.002-06:00

This afternoon, at approximately 1:00 p.m., Twinkle Fingers and I pulled up in our driveway and were met by a glowing porch light, a lifting garage door and what sounded like angelic voices trilling in my heart. At some point between 7:30 p.m. last night and 1:00 p.m. today, KCP&L restored my power. Thank you, Electricity Guys.

I'm guessing it was closer to 7:30 p.m. last night that the power came on (given that the temperature in the house was back to the programmed temperature), so we'll estimate the power outage lasted about 40-hours (or so).

Christmas thus far

2008-12-25T14:29:00.000-06:00

What I've done to celebrate thus far (begun on December 24):

1. Lunch with family-- soup, chili, muddy buddies, carrots, and roasted potatoes

2. Presents with family-- homemade for adults, books and such for smaller people

3. Snacks and presents with bio family-- noise, chaos, miniature foods, fun gifts, laughter, and conspiracy

4. Candlelight service at Jacob's Well-- pastor commanded us to party for the next 12 days, beautiful worship, glowing candles

5. Final Christmas morning prep-- to bed finally at 1 a.m.

6. Awake at 7:40-- brewed coffee, baked cinnamon rolls, emptied FUN stockings with kids

7. Unwrapped presents-- thoughtful, useful, just what we wanted gifts

8. Hugged good-bye-- Twinkle Fingers and Wheat Thin headed to G's

9. Watched movie-- Better Off Dead, dosed, ate cinnamon roll, dosed

10. Showered, shaved, shined-- to head to next celebration venue

In between we played games, laughed, hugged, kissed, laughed, hugged, laughed, kissed and thanked God for this wonderful life.

When your IT guy says stupid stuff...

2008-12-23T18:14:00.002-06:00

The IT rep still has my laptop at work. My boss, the CEO, has requested a new one for me, but that request fell on deaf ears. Instead, the tune-up was supposed to just take a day. I took it down to him yesterday so he could re-image it. This morning I get a call. What follows is a fairly accurate accounting of our conversation:

Me: This is Jodi.

IT: Hey, Jodi, this is (insert IT guy's name here).

M: Hey, IT guy. What can I do for you?

IT: Well, I wanted to ask you a question about your laptop.

M: Sure.

IT: You know the touch pad and the stick on your laptop.

M: Yeah.

IT: Well, when you brought it down to me yesterday, were they working?

M: Uh, yeah. The touch pad would freeze up sometimes, but for the most part it works.

IT: Hmmm.

M: Is it not working?

IT: Yeah, no, it's not working right now... And I have no idea why that would be. I didn't want to give it back to you and have you wonder why it wasn't working if it had been working. If it hadn't been working before, I would just ignore it.

(An aside, if you're supposed to make the "computer" work better, wouldn't that mean fixing all parts of it-- even the ones that weren't working when I brought it to you-- isn't that the point? But I digress...)

M: Well, it should be working, otherwise, my work on it becomes fairly challenging.

IT: Yeah, I guess so. Well, I could try re-imaging it again. Would you want me to do that?

M: I would want you to do whatever you think is necessary to make it work.

IT: Well OK, then I guess I'll try that first.

M: OK, uh, thanks.

Images of SNL's Nick Burns ran through my head as I wanted to yell into the phone, "MOVE!"

Half-day Day 2

2008-12-23T08:38:00.000-06:00

This is day two of no office computer. Day two of following e-mail on my phone. Day two of kicking my assistant off her computer when the boss needs something ASAP. The only saving grace-- I leave at noon today.

Shwew!

The weekend is halfway over...

2008-12-20T21:14:00.002-06:00

What a weekend this is shaping up to be... Yesterday I worked from home in the morning and then met up with a selection of the Belshe clan for Belshe Shopping Day 2008 (BSD08). It was as smile-inducing as ever. The ladies and the gents separated for the extravaganza maybe around 3:00, met up again for dinner maybe around 6:30, hit the mall around 8:00, and all finally arrived back at our starting point by 9:30-ish. Some of the ladies pranked the others by applying stick-on nose studs-- they believed us for about 10 seconds.

Today Wheat Thin, Twinkle Fingers and I embarked on a domicile deep clean in advance of the upcoming holidays. It was much needed and afterwards I think we all sighed from both satisfaction and the peace of clean and organized home. We ran some final errands as well, picking up in the process our family Christmas gift-- Guitar Hero World Tour for Wii. And, of course, we rushed right home, set it up and began stinking up the living room (we'll get the hang of it, oh, who am I trying to kid, I'll get the hang of it-- WT and TF already have the hang). We ended the evening with Kung Fu Panda supplied by AA and dinner from Whole Foods.

Tomorrow brings the following: church; time with AA, A, Snoop, HT3, Babby, and Banana tying 200 socks for the soup kitchen and grinning at one another; brief special time with TF before her friend's sleep over; and a second date for me. I'm looking forward to all of it.

All good stuff, good stuff.

It's official-- there's a lobby for EVERYTHING

2008-12-19T23:38:00.002-06:00

I just read this in the WSJ online (emphasis mine):

Not everyone is excited about basketball's arrival as the semiofficial sport of the White House. The bowling lobby is concerned that talk of removing the White House lane -- which was built under the north driveway -- will have a negative impact on their sport. In an effort to change the president's mind, top bowling associations have offered to refurbish the lane with a state-of-the-art scoring system, high-tech bowling balls designed to grip the lane and a digital surround-sound system.

This has got to be the most insane non-issue I've read about recently. The financial world is in crisis, the big 3 automakers are considering a controlled bankruptcy, health system reform needs immediate attention by the new administration, yet the BOWLING LOBBY is concerned about whether the new President will be replacing Nixon's bowling alley under the north driveway with a basketball court. Yeah, this is a good use of time, Bowling Guys. While you're at it, perhaps throw in some jauntily colored bowling shoes and perhaps the President of the United States will decide he loves bowling. Sigh...

Readers' Choice Indeed

2008-12-18T10:17:00.002-06:00

I just finished eating a Big Texas Cinnamon Roll from Cloverhill Bakery purchased for $1.00 from the office vending machine. After making my purchase and returning to my desk I noticed the gold seal emblazoned on the packaging. The Big Texas Cinnamon Roll was voted the 2005, 2006, 2007, and 2008 Automatic Merchandiser Readers' Choice Pastry of the Year.

All I can tell you is- amen.

It does look beautiful outside

2008-12-16T19:09:00.003-06:00

Today wasn't a snow day, but it was a snowy day. While I don't enjoy driving in the snow, I can, and I'm not bad at it. The car also gets around well, so that's a plus. All that said, when I get home after having driven in snow I'm often surprisingly worn out. It must be from steeling myself for the potential sliding and slamming... or something.

Anyway, today was no exception. I was out on two separate occasions and both times arrived back at my home feel stiff and taut. In order to rush along the relaxation, I think I'll use some self-medication... beer anyone? Oooh, or maybe wine? Relaxation can come in so many appealing flavors. Happy snow, I say.

Cold as crap

2008-12-15T19:08:00.001-06:00

That's not a technical meteorological term-- it's just that outside it really feels cold as all crap.

I'm with Wheat Thin

2008-12-14T21:35:00.002-06:00

Wheat Thin is working all his 12-year-old magic trying to bring in the winter weather to close school. He's sleeping with his pajamas inside out and placing a spoon under his pillow. I'm simply keeping my fingers crossed and dreaming about getting to sleep in tomorrow morning. We'll see what happens.

Would you like some whine with your wine?

2008-12-11T07:21:00.002-06:00

Dear Internet,
While I know I should apologize in advance of this pathetic missive, instead I'll just remind you that I whine like this EVERY December. Perhaps it's my own responsibility to get over it already, I mean I've been doing this for five years, but it's a drain every year. Yeah, sure, whatever, they pay me for all the time I put it, I'm told over and over again how appreciated I am, and in general couldn't really think of a better job (until I find someone to pay me for doing nothing at all). But this week nearly kills me every year (and a little secret, I'm not gettin' any younger).

Tuesday I was in the office at 6:15 a.m., home at 8:30 p.m.
Wednesday, I was in the office at 6:15 a.m., home at 6:40 p.m.
Today, I slept in (gasp!) and arrived at the office at 6:55 a.m.

I don't know how much more I can take. Add to all the long hours all the wine I'm drinking, food I'm eating, and smiles I'm giving and, Internet, I'm EXHAUSTED!! Oh, and snow, it so doesn't help-- I've got people in town from places like Phoenix-- he hates the snow!! Saturday can't come quickly enough.

To wait, to hope, even when I feel tired

2008-11-30T19:47:00.002-06:00

Today at church the message, the first of the Advent season, was about waiting. I've never been good at waiting-- it's not a strength, patience isn't. Anyway, Tim spoke about how in Hebrew waiting means the same as hoping. To wait is to hope. That I can do, except tonight I'm just so tired. And why am I tired? Probably from all the "stuff" I did to "prepare" our home for the Christmas season.

This whole waiting thing is going to take a while for me to master, but I'm so not giving up.

I so nearly made it...

2008-11-29T21:14:00.002-06:00

...for the entire NaBloPoMo until I completely missed yesterday-- and unfortunately, as you probably know, yesterday remains part of this month, therefore I failed.

Perhaps failure is a bit strong, there are no consequences of which I am aware for NOT posting everyday during the month of November. I mean, what someone is going to send the Internet cops after me, Al Gore's going to come to my house to take away his Internet, cut my cables, disable my WiFi (none of that's going to happen... right...).

Anyway, I spent most of yesterday reading, then headed over to Dr. Mini's house for some food and fun with his family. We ate a little, drank a little (alright, maybe we drank slightly more than a little), we watched a very cool documentary about this guy who builds a cabin in Alaska completely by hand and then lives in it for like 35 years (until he was 80-something). It was fascinating. Then I came home, read a little more, then fell into a fitful sleep. You might see how the whole blog posting might have gotten away from me.

Then today was a good day- a day I'll tell you more about later... I'm kind of spent, and so instead of glossing over it, I'll wait until tomorrow (or the next day). Good night Internet cops, and Al Gore... please forgive me.

Being thanksful is pretty easy today

2008-11-27T11:13:00.004-06:00

Sometimes holidays are insane-- dealing with nutty family, made nuttier by the drink, dealing with competing needs to be the center of the moment, dealing with the transportation of large amounts of crap, dealing with early mornings and late nights... Sometimes all the dealing overshadows the enjoyment that is supposed to be hidden in these magical times.

This Thanksgiving will be less of the dealing, more of the enjoyment by being spent with someone else's family, wishing my own family happy things by phone of course. This Thanksgiving will be about the parade, some dog show, a movie, dinner, a lighting, some fireworks, some relaxation, and then home. Not early, not late, others not overtaken by the drink, not overly burdened by stuff-- a Thanksgiving just right.

May yours be the best it can be, whatever it looks like.

Sometimes there is no waiting

2008-11-26T20:14:00.002-06:00

Tonight Twinkle Fingers and I sat down to watch Wall-E on DVD. She put the disc in the player and, well, nuttin'.

Me: Hmmm... Did you put the DVD in right?

TF: I think so. (she checks) Yep.

Me: Hmmm... Try another movie.

TF: OK.

Me: Hmmm... Looks like our DVD player has stopped working.

TF: (silent)

Me: Who's going with me to Target to buy a new DVD player?

That's right, Internet, there was no way I was waiting-- tomorrow is a holiday, Friday is called Black Friday, and I'm not heading out there. So it was tonight or Saturday, there was no way I was waiting. Besides, one of our greatest holiday traditions is sitting and watching movies at some point during the day.

So less than an hour ago our DVD player died and as I type Wall-E is starting. Technology is not a barrier, thank you very much. And it may be our imagination, but the picture looks so much better....

Two things

2008-11-25T19:36:00.002-06:00

This evening two things happened that kind of sucked:

1) I had to go to the grocery store, two days before Thanksgiving, to buy food for Thanksgiving dinner, along with what felt like hundreds of other suburbanites. While it was likely better than going, say, tomorrow, it still wasn't fun.

2) I seem to have knocked myself in the face with the, wait for it.... drying rack. Yeah, how I managed that one is slightly beyond me. I was trying to fold it up, reaching broadly from one hinge to the other and- SMACK- I hit myself just below my left eye. I put some ice on it, it seems to be only slightly swollen, and I'm hopeful that it won't be bruising while I sleep.

I used to brag

2008-11-24T22:53:00.000-06:00

I used to brag about my super-charged immune system (SCIS) to anyone who would listen-- especially people who weren't feeling 100% at the time. It seemed that for several years I could would go entire seasons, even entire series of seasons without so much as a sniffle.

But so far this fall, I've missed four days of work due to personal illness... SCIS, why have you forsaken me? Sure, I haven't been exercising in say the last 18-months. And sure, I've eaten fewer fruits and vegetables in the last three months than perhaps almost ever. But come on, we were buds, we relied on each other, SCIS. And you just go off, half-cocked and leave me here flailing around among who knows what viral evils.

What do you say, SCIS, can't we patch this thing up? I'll eat more fruits and vegetables. And I'll hit the workout space either at the office or the community center starting this week. I promise. Please just come home!!

Sunday always leads to Monday

2008-11-23T19:25:00.003-06:00

Some Sundays are exactly as they should be-- church, hanging with a few friends relaxing, getting home to accomplish a chore or two, a quick evening errand, the supervision of the completion of homework, and finally a family movie. Sweet, sweet, Sunday (in advance of the dreaded Monday, sure, but we'll savor it as long as we can).

Blogging isn't always easy

2008-11-22T21:39:00.002-06:00

I've decided that these are some of the things that can make blogging a challenge (please note, this list is not exhaustive):

1. A cat purring with her head either a) on the keyboard, b) pressed between the screen and the keyboard, or c) desperately trying to sit on the same lap as the laptop. Step off, Cat!

2. Having nothing interesting to report other than possibly what we ate today (lame-o).

3. Feeling as though my eyelids are closing faster than my fingers are typing (and allow me to point out it's 9:41 on a Saturday night-- how old AM I?).

4. Noticing that while I agreed to do this for 30 days straight, I've only arrived at day 22... We may be in for a bumpy eight days.

Most of the time, I just want you to do your job

2008-11-21T22:32:00.002-06:00

Tonight, Wheat Thin, Twinkle Fingers, The Nana, The Grandpa and I had our monthly dinner. We ventured to The Legends shopping district with plans to eat at one of our favorite spots, The Yard House (good food, lots of beer, splendid happy hour specials). Instead, WT and TF begged for a trip to T-Rex; we acquiesced.

The food was fine-- tasty but not extraordinary. The atmosphere was noisy but fun-- TF and WT like the distractions. The waitress was annoying-- she chatted as if we were all old friends. I can be OK with that for about the first two minutes, then I just want you to do your job, and do it quietly while conveying the necessary information. I'm a little harsh, sure, but it's the way to get the best tip from me (I'm actually kidding, you have to be really horrible to negatively impact the tip, I'm a sucker).

The rest of the evening included delicious dessert, fun games, and general revelry. Another fabulous family Friday night.

It seems a little early to start bitchin'

2008-11-20T22:23:00.002-06:00

But man, it's cold, and it's only November. The last time I recall feeling this cold in November might have been the first November I spent in Minneapolis. Internet, that was fifteen years ago-- FIFTEEN years ago.

So that my body seems to be connecting this feeling to that feeling makes me a little scared about the rest of the winter-- is this an omen or a misfired memory... time will tell. And oh my, is there a lot of cold looming ahead, it's only November.

Officially a curmudgeon

2008-11-19T22:34:00.000-06:00

I very badly want to raise my bedroom window and scream at the neighbor kid, "Turn down that racket!" That racket being some heinous music with live drumming and loud off-key vocals. For pete's sake (a curmudgeony phrase if ever I heard one), it's Wednesday night!!

Yummy!

2008-11-19T19:26:00.003-06:00

We just finished dinner. Waffles. Yum. I had a waffle with beer and some orange slices. Yum. Wheat Thin and Twinkle Fingers had a waffle with milk and some orange slices. Yum. Twinkle Fingers had a challenging start to dinner, trying to figure out how to chew having lost her tooth a few minutes before dinner was served. She adjusted. Now it's time to sit in a carb coma on the couch... Yum.

Huggable

2008-11-18T21:17:00.002-06:00

I've accomplished the reorganization of my closet... using Joy Mangano's Huggable Hangers... Sure, I saw them on some shopping network, but I actually bought them from Target (man do I love Target).

Joy told me these hangers would double or triple my closet space-- they did.
Joy told me these hangers would prevent my clothes from slipping-- they do.

Clothes organized-- check. Next step-- adding a top shelf for accessories or other storage.

Monday-- not my favorite

2008-11-17T20:57:00.003-06:00

I've never been a fan of Monday. Sorry, I've tried to be one of those gung-ho-get-the-week-started-conquer-the-world kind of people. I'm not. Monday, you kinda almost always suck just a little bit.

This Monday wasn't really any worse than any other, I guess. It started with a 7:30 a.m. meeting, which ran until 11:30. Followed that up with a trip to the grocery store for a salad which for unknown reasons I decided not to eat when I got back to the office. Left the office at 2:30 (this can't be all bad, you're thinking) and ended up sitting on my arse instead of finishing the organization in my closet that I so desperately need to accomplish. Went to dine with AA and see Role Models (truly the high point, I assure you, I did laugh-- a lot, and actually ate my tasty Dean & Deluca salad for this meal). Last minute trip to Target for one more set of organizational tools for the closet (since I convinced myself as I drove to dinner that I couldn't have organized said closet this afternoon even if I hadn't been arse-sitting because I didn't have ALL the tools I needed, so I might as well let myself off the ginormous guilt hook). And now I'm home, in bed, scarf on (to protect from the sixty-three degree house temp) still with a sniffly nose, cold ears, and slightly tired eyes.

I'm hoping for more from you, Tuesday.

We went out on a high note!

2008-11-16T17:20:00.002-06:00

Today was the last activity of the cheerleading season-- competition. Here's how it works.

About two months ago, we agreed to participate in the cheer and dance portion of the competition. That meant teaching a new cheer (with stunt), choreographing a dance (with stunt), and teaching the dance. The squad worked hard, adding a second practice per week in late September.

We compete by grade level, and knew we would be pitted against two other third-grade squads (one with 15 cheerleaders, one with seven cheerleaders). Our nine girls worked HARD, and we felt ready. We arrived at the venue about 90-minutes ahead of our time slot and started getting in the zone.

We watched the younger cheerleaders, and tried to keep our nerves in check. We made our way to the practice room (where we got our first look at the real "competition") and ran through the routine twice (it all came down to two final practices...).

While we waited on deck, one of our cheerleaders headed over the brink (tears were spilled but only by one, thankfully). It was finally time for them to take to the court-- and they NAILED it. When the girls started their pom pom pass the crowd (and judges) erupted, it wowed them.

In the end, though, you never know what's going to happen and as all the squads took to the mats for a final dance party before the awards were announced, we knew it was just time to relax and have fun.

The announcements finally came to the third grade division and-- they took first in the cheer portion, and first in the dance portion. That's right-- two first places... and all the hard work felt so worth it!!

Sixty-three

2008-11-15T16:15:00.002-06:00

I made a decision this season when I turned on the furnace. In order to save money I decided to keep the furnace at sixty-three degrees. In the past, we've utilized our programmable thermostat to regulate the air temp, but we allowed a substantially higher temp during the hours we were at home.

I thought we'd be able to adjust fairly easily to sixty-three degrees-- a couple extra layers, a blanket while we watch TV-- not much different than usual.

So far, sixty-three is OK. It's a little chilly, but we're adjusting (our habits, not the thermostat). A friend reminded me that anytime it starts feeling like sixty-three degrees is too cold, I should step outside without a coat and then I'll be reminded of how warm sixty-three can be.

Friday was a fun-day

2008-11-14T21:06:00.002-06:00

Today was busy, but I managed to slip in some fun. And now I'm happily at home collapsed on the sofa, sipping a beer. I worked a little, had my hair done, enjoyed a flight of wine with friends, helped the sixth graders rock a bake sale. Sigh... big fun...

In the midst of chaos comes a near perfect night

2008-11-13T21:37:00.002-06:00

This week, as you may have noticed, is a mess-- lots to do, little time to do it, illnesses abound. But in the midst of all this Wheat Thin and I (and about 13 other friends/family members) witnessed third grade artistic genius in the staging of a musical, It's a Jungle Out There. It may have been partially because Twinkle Fingers played one of the leads, or partially because she had a rockin' leopard costume (thanks again to The Nana for coming through and attaching tail to top while I worked today), but it was completely because the entire third grade of the school rocked out-- and did it having a great time!

I know "parents" always go on and on about the great schools/teachers/coaches, but there is no doubt that our music teacher would kick the ass of all other music teachers... word...

Busy, Busy, Busy

2008-11-12T21:36:00.002-06:00

This week is incredibly busy. I have to:

fine tune the cheerleaders for competition
bake four dozen cookies
fine tune "Spots" for the 3rd grade musical, It's a Jungle Out There
finish a costunme for "Spots"
attend the 3rd grade musical, It's a Jungle Out There
coordinate the bake sale during Family Movie Night at school
staff the bake sale during Family Movie Night at school
have my hair cut, colored, and styled (before the bake sale during Family Movie Night)
have wine at JP's (before the bake sale during Family Movie Night)
stock the cash box for the bake sale, yada, yada, yada
have dinner with my sisters
attend an art showing with my sisters
coach nine 3rd graders at a cheer competition
finish a Board agenda
collapse

I hope I can do it all...

Being sick is making me sick

2008-11-11T13:21:00.002-06:00

Daytime television is sucking the remaining life out of me. Being home ill today without Twinkle Fingers (who is still ill, but is spending the day with The Nana so I can convalesce on my own) leaves me to watch whatever I want on TV. That means, today, a marathon of The West Wing (a show I really enjoy) so that's the good news. The bad news is that it's on Bravo which means that every commercial break includes a commercial for The Housewives of ______ (enter a city here), Top Chef, or Tim Gunn's Guide to Style. My head is about to explode. Thankfully the last episode of the marathon is airing now so I can move on to napping without disruption.

It's official...

2008-11-10T23:24:00.001-06:00

I'm sick-- you know how hard it is for me to admit... But I suppose the thermometer rarely lies, and it just keeps reading 101.

This really couldn't have come at a worse time, either. This week I have to finalize a Board agenda, run a bake sale, and coach at a cheer competition. My head hurts thinking about it...

Off to sleep with OJ on the nightstand (not Simpson by the way), hoping for an overnight miracle.

And then we both decided we were sick...

2008-11-09T22:12:00.000-06:00

Twinkle Fingers and I had special time today which included cheerleading practice and a movie. We've both been a little sniffly and a little hacky AND a sore throat-- sigh..

Almost drunk blogging-- I don't advise it...

2008-11-08T23:45:00.002-06:00

So I agreed to post daily, now I realized I should consider actually achieving that before I have a "party" focused on consuming many of the beers and wines delivered to my house monthly. It's taking longer to type this post, than say, drink those last two beers... the screen is moving... or is it me...

Actually, I'm not that bad off-- the kids are with me and I so don't get drunk with them... I am however, slightly more tipsy than if the kids and I had been somewhere other than our home.

So, I've posted, and now I can go to sleep. Yippee.

We like to move it- move it

2008-11-07T21:03:00.000-06:00

That's right, we saw Madagascar 2 tonight. And yeah, we laughed. Wanna make somethin' of it? We didn't think so.

We now return you to a more peaceful blog.

Confessions of an angry mother

2008-11-06T22:00:00.002-06:00

I work really (REALLY) hard to treat Wheat Thin and Twinkle Fingers with respect and speak always in a kind, if sometimes firm, voice. I'm pretty good at it. But over the last several months, I have had more opportunities to lose my temper, and have done so with a regularity that is unsettling at best.

In the midst of any particular outburst what I want to convey is, "We are partners in this world and this family, please do your part and lend a hand." What I believe I actually convey is, "How hard can this be, children, I'm not asking all that much from you?!? (grumble grumble grumble) (repeat previous monologue) (ask for a response) (grumble grumble grumble) (repeat first half of monologue, insert ridiculous analogy) (demand response) Never mind, I'll do it!" This does not make me feel good as a mother (not to mention, I'm betting they dislike it).

Thankfully I rarely full-on yell. It's really not my style. See I grew up with a full-on (and I mean full-on) yell-er and no one wants to relive those moments, least of all me from the inside. But I have, on occasion, raised my voice above my normal stern decibel (like I did tonight) and began making broad declarations such as "You will never wear shoes again since you can't put them away." "I will never wash your laundry again since this is how you care for it." "You can pay me back the $200 I just spent on your school supplies since you deem them unworthy of being organized." None of these declarations is actually acted upon- by them or me. And as soon as they leave my lips I recognize the error of my ways, and always-- ALWAYS-- apologize when my much cooler head prevails (sometimes it takes minutes, hours, or even a day... but I apologize).

This evening I didn't make any wacky declarations when my head exploded from frustration, but I did hold them accountable in the moment and later, too, when they HAD to have me do something RIGHT then that should have been accomplished hours ago. And so while I was angry (and feeling ill which was likely the real catalyst of my outburst), I'm over it, and so are they. Until tomorrow, probably, when it happens again or anew... kids...

On a side note, they do a much better job when I get angry than I did as a kid (likely a testament to our overall interactions with one another). They react appropriately-- sometimes by disagreeing with the admonition, sometimes apologizing for their own transgression, sometimes ducking and covering. But they also begin to look for ways to distract and redirect (basic tenets of the Love and Logic parenting being perpetrated on them daily)-- they may be frustrating, but they aren't stupid!

The sound of rain

2008-11-05T21:39:00.000-06:00

I love the sound of rain on my windows as I drift off to sleep. The only thing better would be to hear it and know that I can sleep (and therefore enjoy the rain) for as long as I want. Alas, the alarm is set for 5 a.m. to get the kids off to school. For now, Internet, I bid you adieu.

A night I won't soon forget

2008-11-04T23:07:00.002-06:00

Coming in just under the wire for today's post, I am pleasantly, exhilaratingly exhausted. I say congratulations to our nation. Yes we can!

What an experience to share with Wheat Thin...

Decisions haven't always been my strong suit

2008-11-03T13:57:00.002-06:00

It is time for the annual enrollment for benefits at my company. This is the time of year I look forward to least in terms of decision-making. We have a very robust benefits package here-- which translates to lots of options. Options are often overwhelming to me. Pair that with options related to insurance and you might as well put a dartboard on my office wall and let me have a shot at it.

The very nature of insurance has always annoyed me-- the idea of someone getting so much of my hard-earned resources so that should catastrophe befall me I can sleep a little easier. And yes, I realize that should catastrophe befall me I will sleep easier because I am one of the lucky ones that has insurance. Working for a medical specialty society I think I know all too well the value of knowing my healthcare needs can be met.

Last Thursday I sat through the benefits educational session-- the time where various people get up and tell me about what has changed in the plans, the increases in the rates they have negotiated, the changes in coverage, etc. And then I'm sent back to my office to ponder the choices (the many, many choices).

I have a single coverage plan (Wheat Thin and Twinkle Fingers are covered by G), so the options are all reasonably priced and well-appointed. Typically I've stayed in the middle of the road with the HMO, but beginning last year, our organization offered the high deductible/HSA* route. Since I was in limbo last year where My Left Ankle was concerned, I remained insurance-conservative. Since I now know where I stand with My Left Ankle, I decided to venture down the HDHP** lane and see where it takes me.

With the decrease in premiums off set by the increase in the amount being placed into my HSA instead of my FSA***, I come out about $1.99 ahead each pay period. We'll see how I fare this year. Wish me well, Internet (really well...).

* Health Savings Account
** High-Deductible Health Plan
*** Flexible Spending Account

To save daylight, or not to save daylight

2008-11-02T21:44:00.001-06:00

Everyone around me complains about the commencement of daylight savings time each spring (me included) and everyone welcomes the return of standard time each fall (me included). Saturday night/Sunday morning I am loving the extra hour. But already by Sunday night I'm tired at 7:30 but feel I'm too old to go to bed...

See, it's 9:45 p.m. but it FEELS like 10:45. Sure, I got to sleep an extra hour, but it bites me in the ass-- every time!

All the kids are doing these days...

2008-11-01T22:09:00.003-05:00

So I'll try my hand at NaBloPoMo... A full month (thirty whole days, Internet) of daily postings. And you all think the crap I type out now is annoying-- wait until there is a full November of this. Good luck to all!

Mail by the numbers

2008-10-31T23:10:00.002-05:00

There are four days to the elections. Today my mail consisted of:

8-- oversized political postcard mailings

4-- mentioned 1 candidate

2-- of the 4 that mentioned 1 candidate were pro-candidate

2-- of the 4 that mentioned 1 candidate were anti-candidate

2-- mentioned a former Attorney General and District Attorney not even running in this election

1-- of the 2 that mentioned a former Attorney General and District Attorney not running in this election was pro-issue

1-- of the 2 that mentioned a former Attorney General and District Attorney not running in this election was anti-issue

1-- was a campaign piece telling me the candidate was NOT a politician

1-- was for a candidate that I could not identify by face in the pictures because they were all of the same sex and didn't specifically identify which one was running (I'm fairly confident it was neither of the children, could have been any one of the three adult women pictured in the two family photos)

2-- were for "Questions"

Notice to ALL candidates, committees, etc.-- you're all too late-- I've voted. Stop stuffing my mailbox with your crap.

This is Halloween, this is Halloween

2008-10-31T12:35:00.002-05:00

"The Nightmare Before Christmas"-- Halloween movie or Christmas movie? Discuss.

Closing in on the finish line, I think

2008-10-30T13:08:00.003-05:00

So Halloween is tomorrow, right. I have only one final step in making sure Wheat Thin (aka Tin Pan Joe the Hobo) and Twinkle Fingers (aka Pippy Longstocking) are properly costumed. And it revolves around patches.

So tonight, I'll be sewing the final touches on their costumes and in the morning sending them on their way for the school's annual Halloween parade. G takes them trick-or-treating, so I can sit back, relax, and sip a glass of wine comforted by the knowledge that their costumes are as authentic as we can make them. Another successful costume season complete (almost...).

Shwew!

I'm not exactly scared...

2008-10-28T22:09:00.002-05:00

... but I am unsettled, I think.

This morning I climbed into my car and immediately noticed that the passenger seat was reclined, rather significantly. It immediately struck me-- no one rides in my passenger seat at that angle... and no one unusual has been a passenger in my car in the last several days... and I left my car unlocked last night... sometimes I forget to lock the car in the carport even though I have a garage door opener in there that would lead into the house (the interior garage door is always locked, but come on, even I've busted into that door with a strong shoulder one night). I know it's not smart to forget, but you know what, when you forget, well you forget.

Let's get back to the issue, Internet. How would my seat get reclined? Honestly, other than someone climbing into my car and reclining it, I can't come up with a single explanation. Which is why I'm not exactly scared, just a little freaked out...

When sadness is replaced by dismay

2008-10-28T15:39:00.003-05:00

I have been sort of following this story. The latest article is astonishing. Allowing an 8-year-old boy (Internet, he was EIGHT-YEARS-OLD!!!) to fire (FIRE!!!) a machine gun, I believe, is clearly a reckless and wanton act. What more investigation does one need?

He's laughing at us, and our football team...

2008-10-24T22:19:00.002-05:00

Oh, Internet, how busy I've been this week without even a moment to update you until now.

Monday's appointment with the eye doctor ended like this:

Eye Doctor: You don't need glasses.

Wheat Thin: REALLY!

ED: No. And Mom and Dad, he will always fail the school screenings and any other screenings. Don't worry, come back in two years.

Tuesday was normal, I think...

Wednesday was rainy and the day that Wheat Thin had been waiting for since his birthday. It was the day he was able to put to use the gift I had given him-- tickets to see Ben Folds. We headed to The Uptown around 6:00 to find the line already half-way around the building. Despite the rain, we queued up to wait. They opened the doors a few minutes early and we were some of the lucky few who fit into the lobby and were able to dry out ever so slightly. Eventually the doors opened and we made our way to the third row of the balcony, stage left, with a perfect view of the stage and eventually Ben.

Ben played for over two hours, I think, and it was, in a word, unbelievable. He played every song we wished for (except for my personal favorite- Song for the Dumped (give me back my black t-short, Internet!)) and we were simply blown away. Having seen a number of excellent shows (many while still living in Minneapolis) I can say this was one of the top three or four shows I've seen in my day. For Wheat Thin's third show (and second featuring Ben), I couldn't have asked for much more.

Thursday morning found us bright and early at the dentist's office. Friday afternoon found us at another doctor's appointment, and finally that brings us to now... Friday night.

Never have I had a less well-conceived, but more well-intended plan-- to take the children, specifically Twinkle Fingers to see High School Musical 3 on opening night. It was mayhem, chaos, tweens run amok. It was miserable. The line was long and unruly, parents decided that AMC were better suited for parenting this evening than they were, and the screaming before, during and after the movie was ear-piercing. Most of the time during the film, the chatter was a low murmur. There were moments during the film (read this: anytime Zac Efron made an appearance to sing or remove his shirt) that the screams would crescendo before quieting down one or two line of dialogue in. It was annoying. But the evening was exactly what Twinkle Fingers wanted, and so on some level it was worth it.

She and I will likely see it again during a future special time, to make sure we didn't miss anything vital, and I anticipate a request to participate in a sing-along viewing which I know can't be too far off in Disney's mega-franchise plan. And yes, they nicely set up a new cast of East High Wildcats to continue the banality back onto the small screen (I would guess). The Disney Machine is never lacking in direction, it seems.

The rest of the weekend is just as busy, including a championship football game, a surprise 70th birthday party for my father, some hanging time with AA, and whatever else pops up. It's only fitting given the crazy week we've already had. Hold on to your seats, it could be a wild ride.

Good enough for Salvino D'Armate (according to Wikipedia)

2008-10-20T08:16:00.004-05:00

This afternoon Wheat Thin revisits the eye doctor. When he was about 4-years-old he was diagnosed with some eye issues that have fancy names. Basically, his left eye was a little cross-eyed (coming in towards his nose) and also a little rotated in the socket. We could have opted for an expensive, traumatic surgery or we could diligently patch his right eye in order to strengthen and straighten the left eye. Doing anything diligently with a 4-year-old can be a challenge, but Wheat Thin rose to the challenge and patched his eye.

He didn't always like it; sometimes he asked to do it in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon, and sometimes he asked to not do it. But whenever we did (and we did it everyday) he complied. We used to take the patches and ask The Knitter to draw on them before we put them on, or sometimes we applied stickers to them-- just to jazz them up. They were adhesive, a traditional pirate patch wouldn't work, and sometimes they itched or he would sweat underneath them... but he ALWAYS wore them. He also wore glasses to help address the problem when he wasn't patching. One day at the mall a curious child asked, "What happened to your eye?" and without missing a beat, Wheat Thin replied, "A shark ate it out," and walked away with a swagger.

Wheat Thin was rewarded for his hard work about two years ago when he received a near perfect eye exam and told he no longer needed his glasses. We rejoiced--not only for the healing of his body, but also for the commitment Wheat Thin had made and the opportunity for him to see that with perseverance and hope good things can come-- great things can come.

Fast forward to Wheat Thin's annual physical this year and his inability to read even the medium-sized letters on the eye chart. I was shocked-- he tested at about 20/50... Here's our conversation at our family physician's office:

Me: Dude, can you see anything on that chart out of your left eye?

Wheat Thin: (indignantly) YES!

Me: Uh, OK, then why aren't you reading the letters?

Wheat Thin: (indignantly) I AM-- the TOP row, sheesh!

M: OK, let me ask this a different way. At school, do you have trouble seeing?

WT: No, as long as I can use my right eye, I'm fine!

M: OK, we'll talk about this later...

WT: Forget it, just get me glasses, whatever!

So, clearly, he's not looking forward to the possibility of having to wear glasses-- I get that. Once done with the annual physical, and having spoken to G, we contact the eye doctor to learn that we were supposed to have brought Wheat Thin in for evaluation after six months... uh, yeah, that seemed to have gotten overlooked, eh? So the guilt being shared between G and I right now is immense... We likely should have seen this coming had we remembered to take him in for eye checks. (In my defense, I wasn't at the last appointment so I can claim a lack of direct knowledge-- but really, we're both the parents, I know.)

Today, Dr. Grin (yeah, that's her name, deal with it) will likely prescribe corrective lenses. Wheat Thin's not going to be happy, and really neither will I. But given his history, we can likely depend on him to wear them.

Eavesdropping on play

2008-10-18T17:51:00.002-05:00

Whenever one of the kids has a friend over I enjoy getting to see them socialize with their peers. It's a bit like eavesdropping, sure, but I feel like it's for a good cause (both allowing me to keep track of how and who they hang with and just letting me continue to see them having fun with other people).

Twinkle Fingers has a friend over this afternoon. This also affords me the opportunity to sit and the coach and allow my eyes to droop ever so slightly.

Pulling myself up, dusting myself off

2008-10-14T08:10:00.002-05:00

Lest anyone worry that I'm in the fetal position rocking back and forth while sobbing, I'm working on getting past the character assassination that was my day yesterday. I've been reminded by many people (many of whom are not even related to me) that I am indeed a good person and that likely translates into a good coach, which someday might result in a young woman even considering me a good mentor... I'm slowly moving on.

All along I THOUGHT I was doing a good thing

2008-10-13T10:37:00.002-05:00

Turns out, I'm a terrible cheerleading coach-- a coach so bad I've "made" two eight-year-old girls quit the squad I coach AND have since been likened to a Nazi coach by one of their mothers. Turns out, in her opinion, she's not the only one who feels this way and has encouraged the other coach to hold a meeting to prove her right. I have been sending email messages that make "all the parents cringe" when they see it's from me.

Hmm, can I really be that bad? Yes, I'm now rethinking every single word I've uttered to cheerleaders and parents alike, every request to be in cheerleader stance, to yell a little louder, or (gasp) show up on time, in uniform, with a bottle of water. And sure, maybe some parents (or in her estimation all parents) think this is too much. Then I am also recalling every time I've told a cheerleader she looks great, sounds awesome, I'm proud she nailed that jump. And I believe, but of course any Nazi coach would likely believe the same, that the good I've said has for outweighed my unreasonable aforementioned requests (then again, I don't think I'm asking too much, here, Internet).

I've alerted the other coaches to my willingness to step aside-- they have rejected this offer. They have contacted those cheer authorities above us to see if any response is necessary or appropriate from this hateful missive sent, auspiciously, to just the three coaches, but perhaps copied to all parents-- who are we to know. In any case, I'll try and tenderly regain my self-esteem and remember that one parent's tirade does not the truth make.

When a prick keeps hurting

2008-10-10T10:43:00.002-05:00

Get your mind out of the gutter- I mean the finger prick I received yesterday as part of my annual health screening.

Each year for the past three years I have participated in the screening, sponsored by our health insurance company, as a way to reduce by $10 per month my portion of my health insurance premium. It's worth the $120 to endure the weight check, blood pressure check, and cholesterol check in the multi-purpose room of our office building along with many co-workers.

But every year the screeners have trouble getting the blood to "flow" from my finger prick. So they spend what seems like an inordinate amount of time squeezing, massaging, and generally wiggling my finger in order to fill the very tiny tube to check my cholesterol. Yesterday was no exception.

This brings me to today and the bruise I have on the inside of the tip of my left middle finger. While it doesn't seem like a big deal, you try typing quickly (and accurately) with a tiny little jolt each time you graze a key with the sore digit. Sigh.

I'm not the worst mom, I just play one on TV

2008-10-09T07:35:00.002-05:00

Last night was not a good night at our house. And I'm going to share a little story with you and then ask you if I was wrong... and it's OK for me to be wrong.

We have a standing rule that from the time we get home from school until 4:00 p.m. is free time. At 4:00 p.m. everyone starts homework. Homework lasts until you finish or it's time for dinner. If homework is still unfinished after dinner, it's the priority. After homework is done, your time is yours. This has been the rule since I started picking Wheat Thin and Twinkle Fingers up from school three days a week-- so roughly three years.

Yesterday, when 4:00 arrived, Wheat Thin bristled at the idea of turning off the xBox 360 and requested an extension on his free time. That extension was denied. He stomped into his room, closed the door, and began working on his homework.

Ninety minutes passed and it was time for dinner. Everyone came to the table. I remembered I needed to print something off the computer in Wheat Thin's room and as I entered his room he bolted from the table to meet me at his door, to confess, "I was playing a computer game instead of doing homework!"

I replied, "Sit down and eat your dinner." But inside I was beginning to fume. Having completed the task I set out to do at the computer in Wheat Thin's room, I took an extra few minutes to contemplate the consequence to this action.

In the past, this behavior would have resulted in a loss of gaming privileges for anywhere from a week to three months. Each time this consequence has been leveled, it has been followed with a promise to never do it again. Yet, here I am back in this same spot. This consequence needed to have a greater impact on the misuse of time and the lie. And it hit me.

I returned to the dinner table and stated with a calm in my voice, "Wheat Thin, until further notice your homework will be completed in the living room, not your bedroom. Further, you will not be allowed to use the computer to complete your homework for the next week."

And that did it-- the fury erupted from Wheat Thin as he began to wail that he has a large project due that he was planning to type (the timeline project, you'll recall I've mentioned it, requires the addition of photo captions and he was planning to type them instead of writing them). I held my ground, "Well, I don't recall anything requiring you to use a computer to complete that project, or if there is a computer requirement, you'll need to make time during the school day to get that done. Perhaps you can talk with Mrs. 6th Grade Teacher and see if you can use your recess for extra computer time."

The anger remained as Twinkle Fingers and I readied ourselves for cheerleading practice and left. In the meantime, I texted G (who was en route from Chicago) that I needed his support of this punishment. Wheat Thin must have grabbed him as his plane taxied to the gate in Kansas City because the next thing I knew, G was on the phone to speak with Twinkle Fingers asking if Wheat Thin and I had "talked."

Wheat Thin ultimately has offered an alternate punishment: grounding from all gaming for whatever length of time I prescribe as well as additional household duties.

Here's your assignment, Internet. Am I wrong to impose a punishment such as I have, should I fall back on the old standard punishment which has been ineffective at best to date? I am confident that the imposition of the original punishment will have no ill-effect on his ability to perform the required school tasks, but it will mean he has to do things differently for the next week where homework is concerned.

Thoughts?

Commuting makes my head hurt

2008-10-08T07:50:00.002-05:00

I have wished for a very long time that I was able to carpool with someone, anything to ease the burden of the daily commute. Alas, my schedule is such that I have never been able to work this wish out. Therefore, I am one of the thousands of commuters you see everyday alone, in their car, driving somewhere, while you wonder aloud how they could be such selfish wasters of the world's resources. But I digress.

My real point is to share with you the many, many ways in which this morning's commute made my head hurt even more than usual.

1. At 6:39 a.m. my coffee shop wasn't yet open. The posted hours indicate they open at 6:30 a.m.

2. The poorest substitute for my coffee shop- McDonald's- is right next door. They took an inordinate amount of time getting me coffee and a milk for Wheat Thin.

3. Now we're rushing, and the Audi TT that pulled in front of us was poking, p-o-k-i-n-g along.

4. We made it to the school, we made it to The Nana's and I'm heading to work. Finally.

5. The Mercury in front of me is doing something I've likely never seen- driving 65 mph with their brakes engaged, the entire time, without fail. Sure, 65 is the speed limit, but I "do" about 75, Mercury, move it over.

6. The construction on 435 surrounding the Overland Parkway project has me feeling numb, when will it end?

7. I pull into the parking lot, slip into my space, and breath a sigh of relief-- I don't have to do that again until 2:30.

Let me know

2008-10-07T21:40:00.002-05:00

I had the debate on, but was too busy looking at photos. Someone tell me, did I miss a mind-changing interchange? I didn't think so.

Sometimes school projects are fun

2008-10-07T21:09:00.002-05:00

Wheat Thin is putting together a timeline of his life for a project. While this seems like a simple project to me for a sixth grader, but whatever. The project has encompassed several phases, beginning with an interview of his parents (that's me), the collection of photos from each year of his life (that's the current phase), and next will be the phase in which Wheat Thin writes captions for each of his photos.

This project, and others like it, afford us the opportunity to look back over family photos and relive family memories. We spend little time looking back at photo albums and talking about the crazy things we've done together (crazy even in their mundane nature when we get involved, I assure you). We should do this more often-- we will do this more often, I pledge to myself.

When you're 8 little things are funny

2008-10-06T20:36:00.001-05:00

Like when I got a voice mail from Twinkle Fingers this afternoon about how she, Wheat Thin, and Nana were coming to the office to pick up G and it was SO FUNNY that she saw me driving home... isn't that funny... ha ha... you know... anyway.

I mean this in the best possible way...

2008-10-02T21:40:00.002-05:00

Why do many of the animal control workers I see seem to be manish women?

Another night, another movie

2008-09-30T20:26:00.001-05:00

I was too bored at the office to stay, dreading too much the empty house with so many things to be done. Instead of doing either, I high-tailed it over to the AMC and watched Eagle Eye. Not a great film, not a horrible film, but a film that for nearly two hours distracted me from that which I didn't want to think-- mission accomplished.

Now I'm at home, still distracting myself from things I could be doing, while sitting in bed pecking away at this thing. Next, reading the background materials for my day-and-a-half "retreat" for work that begins in the morning.

By the way, in my opinion in order for something to be a retreat, it has to be a movement away from where you were heading to something new. Why then do all our work retreats entail rehashing all that we have already experienced?? This would feel more like a stagnation, perhaps (is that a real word???). Seems there has to be a better word for it than retreat (there's also never anything relaxing about them, if one wanted to hypothesize that they are supposed to be the type of retreat meant to energize).

They keep dropping it off!!!

2008-09-29T21:52:00.002-05:00

I belong to a club. Every month they either deliver beer or wine to my front door. It's a good club to belong to. I have developed a problem (no, not a drinking problem... yet...). I have an abundance of deliveries piling up-- my pantry is beginning to look like a liquor store stock room.

Perhaps scheduling a welcome fall party wouldn't be such a bad idea. That, or you can visit me in rehab, Internet.

Burn After Reading

2008-09-29T20:22:00.001-05:00

It made me laugh, a lot.

Hair-servation

2008-09-29T09:11:00.001-05:00

When I wear my hair straight I feel more polished (you know serious, focused, "sophisticated").

When I wear my hair curly I feel more free (you know relaxed, distracted, perhaps even "young").

That is all.