things are still crazy chaotic here. After tomorrow, they should get better enough that I can actually think... for now, another item for my memory list.
Johna and I were riding in the car and talking about M. (Yeenie's son ~ they go to the same school.) I said how much I loved him and being around him and she said, "Yeah, M's nice. Until he's not so nice. Then he bites." [sidenote: this is very true. M has sensory issues, etc. and sometimes lashes out -- but he's doing so much better.] I agreed with her but also said that some people get frustrated or angry much more quickly and that they have to work on learning how to figure that out. I told her that M worked very hard every day and that I hoped that she would remember that and help him out where she could. Johna agreed that he worked hard and also told me that she gets angry quickly, too.
Silence.
"Yeah! M is like God!"
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes. Because God is always trying to do the right thing and he gets angry at us quick but forgives us quick, too. Just like M."
Hannah and Johna ran into the house to tell Mom that they stopped Boots (the cat) from killing a mouse. Mom said, "Don't stop them from killing mice! Only birds! I don't want those mice around the house." Mom said there was silence for a while and then Johna said, "Can we have some cheese please?"
we've had quite a few issues up in the air. Whether or not the contractors would come and start the project this week. Whether or not my brother is coming into to town and if he is, where they are staying. But guess what? Everyone. EVERYONE. Is. Coming. Tomorrow, the crew will demo half of the first floor - the kitchen, Nora's dressing room (old sewing room), the laundry area, part of the current dining area, and NOT the bathroom, but the bathroom is located in the demo area. After doing that, I have to get the drywall contractors in along with an electrician before they lay a new floor in the entire first floor and then start to build a kitchen for us (in a Nora's old dressing room). Also, my brother and his family are indeed coming. Friday night. Staying for a WEEK. At Casa de Mays. With my one year old nephew. Oh. And I can't take more vacation time, because we're going on vacaton the second week of August.
One thing at a time. We must pack up most of our home tonight. We must move the refrigerator, microwave, and basics to our tiny living room.
It will all be worth it.
we were able to go swimming today again for an hour and a half. While getting ready, she pointed to my bra and said SO excitedly, "What's that? What's that?" I told her "bra" and she said, "YEAH!!!!" and pointed to her eyebrow and kept saying bwa, eyebwow, bwa, eyebwow until I said Yes! They sound alike! She was very pleased.
She is still loving going underwater and gets around the pool in a ring like a dream. Its so cute. I sure wish ISR classes were available here as they would give me some peace of mind. She's getting much better at kicking and moving her arms. I hope that by next year that translates into some form of emergency swimming (if necessary).
We threw bread out for the birds this morning. She loves doing it but is always frustrated by the fact that the birds do not obey her shouted orders to "C'mon birds!" "I have dinner!" "Where are you?" "Eat!" She'll then make a big deal out of reaching as far as she can and then saying, "Sky too far!" Keeps me in stitches.
our remodeling crew may be available on monday to start the demo on our kitchen and dining room. This means that I have to pack up a major portion of my home, get everything ordered, and then figure out how to pay for it all. All along, I've wanted a farmhouse sink. No matter the price. No matter the wait. Until I found out that each of the models I had picked was SHALLOW. It's so frustrating. I want a big, deep sink so that Nora can continue to bathe in the kitchen. We have so much fun there so I want to keep it for as long as I can. I've spent hours comparing features, prices, availability. My dad has spent hours. Joe has listened to every detail and nuance of farmhouse sinks. I just freed myself from the tyranny of the sink. Screw it. I'm going to order a big old, regular, in stock sink. What a relief.
Arthur is my haven within the world of animation. Since the age of about 6, I haven't really cared for cartoons and becoming a parent hasn't changed that. In the swirls of improbability, whining, sexism, bad fashion, lessons repeatedly not learned, and I say again, improbability was the easy oasis of Arthur. He doesn't whine (though his little sister does) and I find the whole show entirely watchable. Until yesterday. When the episode either had a new actor or Arthur reached puberty. Blech. It's like fingernails on a chalkboard to me.
Poor Nora.
My mom asking me if I knew anyone who would want a free ferret. I told her that I didn't think that anyone should ever want a ferret. She laughed and said, "Yes! The thing about ferrets is that they really look like you can't trust them. And you know what? You shouldn't."
My MIL's response in a conversation about why Nora is suddenly fearful of snakes. "We're afraid of snakes because God said to be afraid of snakes." (serious daughter-in-law points for not losing it. I had to bite my cheek. HARD.)
My mom's response to me telling her that my sister-in-law was back in jail because she was arrested with ten bags of heroin on her. "10 bags of heroin or 10 bags of chips what's the difference? We all have addictions and weaknesses. I guess they should lock us all up." I love that woman like crazy.
flirtation with Suzuki instruction for Nora. He played two new songs (or at least new to me) and, as always, his lyrics and music just filled me with joy (and some laughs) for life. I just can't describe it, but wish I could... excellent music, a poet cowboy with a guitar, and my bff and me grinning from ear to ear. Can't ask for much more. Lyle, if you're reading this, we'll totally be there -- same time next year.this afternoon, nora and i swam together for an hour and a half. I think at least a half hour of that heavenly time was spent leaning over the pool edge watching a bumblebee 'smell' all of the clover. She'd say 'bee, bee, bee!' 'fwower, fwower, fwower!' We also waved bye bye to every car, van, truck, coobah (schoolbus), and plane that crossed our path.
Nora wanted to go underwater more than her usual. She'd tell me to 'let go' and i would and she'd go under and just look up at me. The first time I waited as long as I could bear it to see if she'd kick or something... I pulled her up, she took a good breath and then clapped and laughed. This was not the response I was expecting. She immediately wanted to do it again so I obliged but after that I distracted her with jumping games that allowed her a little underwater play. She wore her swimming ring and broke out some awesome spinning moves that maneuver her all over the pool. I'll have to video them because they totally crack me up. To further my concerns about her lack of fear, she would put on two rings, then wiggle out of one of them, and then occasionally almost take the other one off. I try to not react too much because I've learned that she digs my hyper reactions. I just casually say, you don't know how to swim yet and look away. Thus far, it's been enough. Truth be told, I love the water and I'd rather she'd be a daredevil in the water than fearful. If I don't have a coronary first, she and I are headed for tons of swimming fun.
anyhow. I'm so glad he's coming home. Nothing is the same without him.
here's nora on the phone with daddy 
july evenings around 8 pm are evidently safari hour in the state of indiana. While driving tonight, I had to stop the car for the following: a deer, a family of racoons, a chipmunk, a bird, and a turtle. (well, i only had to swerve for the turtle) The thought of harming any one of these while driving around their homes makes me feel preemptively horrible.
The paradox comes in when I explain why I was out. Becca called me hysterical and when I asked her what was wrong, she said, "I'm SCARED!" She went on to explain that a man with a machine gun came into the truckstop side of the McDonald's she works in. (I've always disagreed with her working at a truckstop, but that's for another day...) She was so upset that I just asked her if she wanted me to come and she did. So, there I was, on my way to Becca. Stopping and swerving to avoid animals. And daydreaming violence upon whomever caused such tears and terror in my baby sister. Machine gun or not, I seriously was ready for some mano a mano.
is it my imagination or have i been dwelling in some almost (but not so) awful vortex?
M. (age 7 and adopted) told Y. out of the blue on their recent roadtrip, "I sometimes wish the lady who gave birth to me named me Gerbil."
Y. had to have a scheduled hysterectomy today. She's always such a tough shit and prides herself on it -- yet has the kindest, most open heart you could stumble upon. Knowing that, I have no explanation for why I obeyed her when she told me not to take the day off and sit a the hospital with D. When her surgery had gone over the estimates by two hours, I could no longer take texting D. back and forth. I hopped in the car and headed on over there. It was nice to sit with him and I'm sorry I didn't keep him company all day. Evidently the mass was much larger than they had estimated (they had estimated a large softball). {how come modern medicine is wrong so often? there were MRI's, ultrasounds, biopsies. you'd think they'd know exactly what they were headed for.}
When she was finally brought up, it was a joyous relief to see her beautiful face. I about shoved her over in the hospital bed so I could climb in and cuddle with her. It reminded me of Steel Magnolias when D. turned on the television while I darkened the room, closed the door, and got extra blankets. As Maya said when she encouraged me to get over there -- this is not the arena of men. They have no idea what to do.
Y. was still in a haze when I had to leave but at one point looked sleepily over and saw me there and gave me the brightest, biggest smile. Like major wattage -- the kind you'd only get from a child or drugged up lady. She's pretty cute for a tough shit.
on fridays, i have half days for 'summer hours'. (i intend to keep them in all seasons, but for now... no need to rock the boat) Normally, Nora and I have lunch together, play a bit, and then she naps and I feel guilty for not doing more than lying around reading. This week, I've attempted to swim with her three days in a row at lunch. Each day, it rained. Today, it was cloudy, but looked promising. I asked that she have her lunch so that we could swim. I came out and she was all ready. Fed, sunscreened, suited up. I brought her in while I got dressed and then the rain came -- AGAIN. This is Indiana, not the subtropics... We sat on the porch talking about the rain. Well, I talked, Nora expressed growing frustration at not swimming. Finally I called my mom to check the rules. She said if I heard no thunder, we could go ahead. Funny, how we implicitly trust moms. Anyhow, we rejoiced and went. The pool was cold. I was in. Nora was not. She gave me some toys and instructions and then, the rain stopped. The sun came out! And Nora told me she wanted to go to bed.
For real.
So, it's sunny outside, I have left over pasta and a book. Not what I planned, but nice nonetheless.
Physical Activity (minimum of 60 min per day)
Outdoor
Reading
i've read several articles lately underscoring the need for activities in the toddler years for learning, health, and future habits. Because Nora has a care provider who comes in everyday, I'm trying to come up with a system that will work for all of us. I want to ensure a balance of daily activities to include physical development, creativity, 'educational' endeavors, music time and unstructured play. What I'm doing now is compiling a list of ideal amounts of times for each type of activity. I'll then make a list of ideas to help whomever is caring for her each day when they're in a jam. I don't want to be a controlling employer and parent yet I do not want to risk valuable time for Nora to grow up strong. Also, many of these areas of development will obviously overlap. Nonetheless, I need to get it organized somewhere and here seems as good a place as any.
Here is the list I have so far of minimum daily requirements. Where I use 'structured' I mean adult-organized, adult-initiated, and Nora-led.
Four days a week, our care provider comes in from 8 am - 4 pm. The math would look like this:
8 total hours {minus} 1.0 hour structured physical play {minus} 0.5 total hour structured creative play {minus} 0.5 hour structured reading {minus} 2.0 hours for napping (around average for the provider -- for mom and dad, it's oddly much less) which {equals} 4.0 hours for eating, dressing, and unstructured play.
On days that we're home with her, we engage in the activities much more than the minimums (and still have time for that whiny Caillou). This is reasonable, isn't it?
we were awoken at 4:30 am on Sunday morning by the doorbell being pushed repeatedly and loud banging on the door. My first thought was of our safety and my second thought was that this sort of thing could never be good... Joe went to the door while I dashed around getting dressed and trying to sort my thoughts from how to help Joe or running to wake Nora and escaping out of the house. Dramatic, I know. But my mind was racing. We live in a rural area and one does not just come upon our door -- its inconvenient, to say the least.
I could hear Joe talking to another male and Joe sounded not quite right -- I also heard him tell the person that he could not let him in. Joe then came in and told me that there was a young man on the porch who said he had been beaten up and he did not want us to call 911 but wanted to use the phone to call his dad. Joe brought him the phone and came back to discuss the situation. Evidently, the guy looked really bad (which is why Joe sounded off -he's easily queasy) but was insistent on no police or ambulance. Joe said that he thought he had a motorcycle wreck and was drunk. The guy then asked Joe what he looked like and Joe told him that he looked like he had been in a vehicle accident. The guy then changed his story and said that he had been following his girlfriend home and then wrecked and couldn't remember anything but woke up on our lawn... I'm quite sure that this story isn't the truth either, but at least it removed the possibility of a roving gang of fighters coming to finish this guy off. The mom in me wanted to take him in and get him comfortable while the woman in me knew better than to take such risks. Joe offered him water, a blanket, or a cold rag while he waited and he said, "Do you have anything other than water?" Joe offered a Diet Coke, which he accepted. That was when I knew this idiot would be just fine. His father arrived twenty minutes later and fireman carried him to his truck and took him to the hospital. He apologized and thanked us and disturbingly, didn't seem all that alarmed.
which leads me to my actual post. How on earth could one become so accepting of your child's very dangerous behavior? The thought that I might get such a call one day regarding Nora really messed with me. I hope several things for her: 1)Never to drive drunk, 2)Never to ride a motorcycle without a helmet, 3)Never to disregard all things wonderful by risking it all. If hoping doesn't work, I'm afraid I'll have to insist...
nora's 'Love You!' is discernable only by her mother or if she's saying it in response to others' 'Love You!' Here are some words that she says clearly: lawnmower, incredible, where is it?, i did it!, airplane... you get the idea. Interesting, isn't it? :P
I don't care. I'll take what I can get and love it. Every garbled second of it.
tonight we were the very first customers of a new Indian restaurant in town. The Taste of India is beautiful, the service was great, and the food was even better. We're so excited. It's been three years since we've lived near Indian food -- the nearest one was about a 40 minute drive from here, which is about 35 more minutes than I'd like to drive for mediocre food. I'm so excited and glad that the owner has no idea that Joe and I loving a place is the kiss of death. If you're local, please patronize them. please.
more importantly, when we got in the car after dinner, Nora said 'Love You' for the first time! It was so exciting and she said it just like she'd been saying it forever. I'm over the moon.
Y's son, G, went through a phase where he was a total over-tucker. Like for real. Socks pulled up, shirt TUCKED. I guess he was comfy that way. I think he was around 9 or 10 at the time. Anyhow one day G came home from school and was making a snack when he told Y that a kid on the bus had told him that he'd be a lot cooler if he'd just untuck his shirt. Y said, "Oh yeah? What did you say?" G told the kid, "Oh, no thanks. I'm not warm!"
While getting dressed this morning, Nora kept putting the wrong limbs in the wrong holes and then saying "No!" and cracking us both up.
our yard is similar to a vast wilderness in the amount of neglect it received prior to us moving in. In fact, it's worse, because there are these random areas of buried glass (yes, broken glass -- tons of it. I wonder what they were trying to grow.), kingkong size rhubarb, and other random things I don't want. Each year, we stake our claim a little more -- mostly with very low maintenance perennials that we can later split. There are other areas that we will don't ever really want to 'take over', but I'm slowly adding lilies, hostas, phlox, and daisies so that at least I like to look in those directions. Anyhow, there are a few riddles I need to figure out.
some pics of Nora from this morning
Mr. Clean Magic Eraser Mop
Do not purchase the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser mop. Theoretically, it seems like a good idea; however, in practice, it doesn't properly squeeze out the excess water. Also, it doesn't 'magic erase' shit. In two words, it sucks. I've had the worst time with mops. Expensive ones, cheap ones, reusable ones... Any recommendations will be appreciated.
Microsoft One Note
Does everyone use this? I want to but can't quite figure out how to shift my thinking and organization methods. Again, any recommendations will be appreciated.
my friend cheri's circle of friends and family is quite diverse. Her husband is from Ireland, she's greek, and many of their friends are from countries all over the world. So, it's quite common to define people by their ethinicity or country of origin, etc. Recently, her ten year old told her quite proudly that the neighbors family is part lesbian.
i'm frustrated with thinking of things i don't want to forget while driving but not in front of the computer
somebody stole our Obama yard sign. we live in a red state (RED red -- not a hint of purple) and when we put it up we didn't know what to expect. Up until its kidnapping, the only thing that had happened was a drive-by shouting "Obama sucks!"
So, who has it? A really zealous democrat who just couldn't wait any longer to get a yard sign (they're hard to get)? Or, a thieving republican who opposes Obama so passionately that they were willing to trespass and steal? Either way, I suppose I should be glad that our little sign inspired someone else to participate (however criminally or ineffectively) in the democratic process.
jordan left early saturday morning for youth mission trip to go work with Sudanese refugees who have been re-settled in, of all places, Maine. I miss him so much. It's a little unbelievable how much brainspace a kid who isn't even here takes. Did he get lunch yet? Is he having fun? Did he sleep well? Brush his teeth? Are the other kids being nice to him? On Friday night, we went to church and packed the kids up and then had a small prayer service. the kids were in a circle with the parents in a circle around them and there were candles on a table in the middle. Each of the kids had to light a candle for one of the other kids going on the trip and mention some of their strengths. Later, others joined in and said things like, "I pray for blah blah because blah blah" I was so proud of all of the children and wanted to do it, but really, between how quietly I speak and my lisp, it could be a train wreck. Luckily, my little sister, Johna (age 7), was with us. She got up and went into the circle and lit a candle and said clearly, "I pray for you all to have Jesus with you and be safe on your way to wherever you are going."
Johna spent Friday through Sunday with us. She's been asking to do this for 2 years, so it's really about time I made it happen. She came with a list of things she wanted to do with us (make s'mores, swim, crafts, and eat at that restaurant with red and black and gummy worms and dirt for dessert [TGI Fridays]) We did all of those things and more despite me being quite sick on Saturday which is just testament to what a wonderful father and brother-in-law Joe is. At the restaurant, Johna ordered ribs and while eating them, exclaimed, quite dramatically, "These ribs are FABULOUS!" She then went on to say that the salad was one of the best salads she'd ever had.
When you have siblings this young at my age (not so young), the relationship teeters between sibling and parent. I have adored Johna from the moment I laid eyes on her when she came as a foster child to my parents. I adore her so much that when I became pregnant, I worried that I wouldn't love my own child more than her. I finally decided that it didn't matter. I knew that I had enough love to give and if I loved them the same it would be more than enough. With the hope that Johna never reads this or learns of it, I'm going to tell you that somehow, against all reason, I, assuredly, love Nora more. This weekend I could just feel how it was different without ever deducting from Johna's love 'account.' This is somewhat of an odd relief to me as I worry so much about being good enough for Nora.
"our old van was making noises like a cat, so we gave it to Karen" (my parents gave their old van to a neighbor who needed it when then replaced it due to some strange sounds that their mechanic said were ominous warnings of doom. I've heard my mom say that it's 'purred like a kitten' since giving it away)
i'll add as i remember. and i do hope i remember...
another one...
we were looking for something to watch on television and i was reading from the guide. I said, 'oh look here! there's a show about a baby who was born with EIGHT limbs' Johna said, "I bet everyone is really really nice to her."
tonight i had to run to the grocery and dq to get the requested desserts for Fathers' Day tomorrow. Whenever I have to run out at night for a quick something sans nora, joe, or even someone on the phone, it makes me feel young (tired, normally, but still young.) Singing to the radio, feeling free... it reminds me of late runs to Phar-mor (do Phar-mor's exist anymore?) to buy nail polish or a new conditioner... anyhow, it's silly but as I was just driving home from Jewel with Chicago's "Hard to Say I'm Sorry" playing on my lame radio station it was a moment of wonderful.
i'm struggling again to find balance. I keep trying to change how I track my 'things to do', my expectations, my goals, and my perspective... but I just haven't stumbled upon the proper mix. I use a Franklin Covey paper planner for daily things and appointments and then I have two legal pads -- one for work and one for home. Everything gets put on the legal pad regardless of priority and then each morning, I choose one or two priority items off of each pad to accomplish. Anything else is gravy. This is workable but I'm not coming away feeling accomplished or, minimally, not terribly stressed. Each morning and evening are dedicated to Nora -- which leaves late night to me. In this time, I need to balance spiritual, emotional, physical, intellectual, and creative endeavors. how do other people do everything they appear to do? is there a magic formula? and if there isn't, how can i learn to let it all go and be okay?
thanks to steph for the idea and jess for the shots. its long ~ you are not expected to watch it. There will be no test.
my heart is guarded against a litany of fuzzy, precious things. Its not that I intentionally build these little heart fortresses -- its just that I desire survival.
It's not that I don't recognize the value or emotion of said things, it's just that I can't afford to give them any of my valuable emotions.
But lambs! Oh, LAMBS! They make my heart sing. If this had sound, you'd hear me joyfully giggling at the thought of them. They make me want to cuddle and run and laugh and jump and volunteer. Lambs. I love 'em.
i could write a whole bunch, but my current grocery list kind of sums it all up
today i wrecked my car. i pulled out from a stop sign and never saw the truck that hit me. it was the strangest experience. Fortunately, no one was hurt and Nora was not even with me. Unfortunately, my car was undrivable and I'm incredibly sore. I was on my way to meet Yeenie for lunch and instead she came and picked me up. It was like coming home to see her pull up and smile and quickly blame the other dude. Joe was nice enough to come home and take care of the body shop and a rental and then pick me up from lunch. I'm confounded at never seeing that truck. I just need a small break.
my great aunt wilma was in the army when she was young, divorced in the 40's, lived independently, voted democratically, set an example, drove well into her nineties, and loved fully. Today, she made her transition. How I wish she could tell us about it. Here are the best things I learned from her:
1) you can go to church without being sucked in by the bullshit. One year, right when I needed it, she gave me the book "Quitting Church without Quitting God"
2) you can hold completely different views and live them out without arguing with others
3) you should love, work, and laugh fully
4) serve others and give with a free and fully heart
I know she wouldn't believe in such nonsense as haunting; so I brazenly post the only picture of her that I can find, however unflattering. She is on the left with my Aunt Lois in the middle and my mom on the right.
the post about being fat has led me to some earth shattering news. Well, it's only earth shattering to me I bet, but still. This morning while perusing my workout dvd's for no reason at all, it occurred to me that if, in 35 years, I have not made working out part of my routine at ANY time, probably it's not for me. What a huge fucking relief. NOT. FOR. ME. Imagine what I might be able to do now that I'm freed from the daily guilt of not doing it. For starters, I'm giving all that shit away. Now that I've released the farce of working out (farcical only for me), I can focus on being active in ways that I enjoy. Playing bball after dinner, weeding, *shifting eyes* hanging out on line...
Of course there's a million more reasons. I already feel guilty for whatever I've left off.
the weird thing about being fat after not being fat is the shock that i experience upon certain mirror encounters and/or photo angles. I just had a mirror encounter and the exaggerated double take it caused me to make made me laugh out loud. Also, there are people who only know me fat which is weird in my head. Like wouldn't they be surprised to find out that I'm not fat in my head? Its not that I was ever a 'thin' person, I guess. I always wore around a size 10 and even then, I felt so fat. I never imagined I'd be this heavy. Never.
Here's what I know. I don't want to spend my life worrying about something that essentially only adds up to what size coffin/urn I'll need. fo sho I won't care then.
Mom's favorite song is "The King of Love My Shepherd Is"
seeing Joe for the first time. he looked so cool.
When Becca was 2 yrs old, how she would say, "waasthat?" to EVERYTHING and how I loved answering
Gordon telling Yeen when she was pushing him to do little league or soccer, "Mom, I can't even sit indian style!"
There are so many things bouncing around my head that I feel sure I'd never forget. However, I know for a fact that I've already forgotten some of the unforgettables. I'm going to start writing them out here without regard for chronology or importance.
Johna (age 3 or 4)
Johna and I were lying on Becca's bed cuddling and talking. She very seriously told me that Johna, Sarah, and Mommy were all princesses. "Mommy a princess. Johna a princess. You a princess!" She then remembered Joe and said, "Joe! Her a princess... no... her a QUEEN!" I laughed and encouraged her saying, "That's right, baby. Joe's a queen." I asked her about Daddy. And she looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Daddy? DADDY? Her GOD!"
My friend, Maya, leaves the best voicemail messages. I'm pretty well known for not returning calls, but she knows just how to pique my interest. This morning's message: "Please, please, please... whenever we talk, we MUST discuss Barack Obama, his "religion" (the quotes are inferred from her tone), and West Virginians. This is imperative. Love you."
I'm going to start keeping her messages bc they always make me happy.
Yesterday I did the most essential things for work and then retired to bed. I had been feeling dizzy and sick. I slept all day and night with the exception of playing with Nora for a bit and eating dinner. I always second guess whether I'm dealing with a physical ailment or some side effect of depression or a not-so-sophisticated avoidance technique. In the end, I suppose it doesn't matter. I feel a little shaky today but tons better.
Here's a picture of what Nora was doing when I thought she was watching cars out the window. Please note her blow your nose face.
clinton won indiana by some 23,000 votes. Disappointing, but not a defeat, as I know that the republicans (a'la operation chaos -- what a shameful movement) showed up to vote for her. All morning I've been considering whether I would do the same thing if the parties had been switched. It's legal to vote in the other party's primary and to vote for a candidate you think your party can beat, but it seems unethical and is, without a doubt, crummy behavior. I'd like to think that I wouldn't go to the polls simply to cancel out the votes of others. Wasting the time, efforts and funds of your opponents and their supporters seems less than democratic to me. Disenfranchised? yep. Bitter? Hell yes.
nora had chex mix for the first time tonight. she loved it so much she might have to marry it.
i love chex mix, too, but only eat the 'chex' part of it -- luckily for me, joe likes the rest of it so I don't have to waste. when she brought me this dish, said 'all done' and asked for 'more', i fell in love with her even more, if its possible.
she's so my girl.
I think I'm always hoping that somebody else will notice my good 'deeds' while I catalogue each and every shortfall. I should just get on my own team. For instance, this week quarterly reports were due for 90 clients, joe is out of town, jordan has football everyday, nora is teething, and I have my period. Additionally, we visited the in-laws, my dad is still very sick, carla's baby shower is on Sunday, I've actually fit in some overdue phone calls to friends. All of this and the house is clean, laundry is done, Jordan made the honor roll, and we have food in the fridge & reasonably healthy meals. Last night, Jordan requested McD's for dinner. He's never requested this before and even cutely suggested that we had both had long days and shouldn't have to cook. LOL. So, Nora had her first ever happy meal. And she seemed to like it. And I was feeling guilty about it. But seriously. I'm going to go ahead and join my own team. A job reasonably well done.
The Fruits of Our Labor...
Now that I have the list your self book, I don't even look at it. Today, I opened up to:
List your lucky charms.
the things that sound good to me right now: mcdonalds, warm sun, magazines, and naps. it's gotta be pms, right? that, or i'm about to become a fat(ter) homeless lady...
I feel guilty about how much she heals my soul. Grief and worry don't stand a chance against her light. I had today off and we went to the library and then to Grandma and Grandpa's house so that she could play and I could meet with insurance reps for my dad. She was a gem. Just spending the day unhurriedly with her calms me and gives me peace. Quitting (for real -- I mean, bdsatan HAS to let me quit sometime) is the best idea ever.
I struggled to hold back my tears as he slowly chipped away at any and all hopes that we, as a family, had held dearly to. But then it occurred to me that if you couldn't openly cry when being told that nothing could be done to save your dad's life or, in the very least, make his remaining time better, then the whole world is crazy. So I cried. I cried until my eyes were puffy and I had that ugly look.
And then we went out to lunch.
This morning I finally had the appointment for Nora and her pooping issues. The doctor really thinks its behavioral but can't really explain why it would be something that has bothered her from birth but is caused by nothing. We had to go to the hospital for a blood draw to rule out celiac disease (crossing everything that it's not). The blood draw was horrible. Poor Nora and poor me. Celiac disease would require a gluten free diet, so I guess if I had to vote on it, I'd pick unknown cause that she outgrows... Ugh. I was so hoping that there would be an answer today and that we could get rid of the miserable pain. We both need to curl up for a nap after our morning... just another reason to quit my job.
so i did it. I sent my resignation letter this morning and by 11, bdsatan had unquitted me. In order to 'protect' myself, we need to create an exit strategy. The division would have to be shut down without me at the helm, although he's not quite sure 'what I do'... (he repeatedly said that I had to be here, but then insinuated that I don't do much) He also offered a really big bonus and payoff for doing it this way. While money has very little to do with why I'm leaving, it certainly doesn't hurt in getting me to stay longer... Today, I'll email him my requirements for the exit strategy and we'll go from there.
i. did. it.
forgive me. I'm just trying this out for size...
I quit my job. I quit. I quit. I quit. When I attempt to evaluate what I would need to renegotiate a partnership package, there are so many obstacles that it is obviously not the choice for me. The constant stress, dishonesty, and overtime just aren't worth it.
how will we make it?
what will I do?
between my dad's illness, my sister living 'independently', audits, court dates, spousal business trips, 'foster' parenting, volunteer work, ubiquitous work-related stress, a lack of time, an extreme lack of sleep, and just life in general, I'm pretty sure I'm about to break. It think the funniest (funny meaning like madhouse laughter funny, not soul repairing giggles) part of it all is that we don't get to break. Gone are the days of trips to the hospital for nerves, season long trips to Europe to find yourself, or spinster sisters moving in and taking over for a bit. Shit, there isn't even 15 minutes of peace in the car between the radio, the phone, and my own thoughts. In the spirit of preserving Nora's mama, I sent an email to work at noon saying I'd be taking a half day and shut all of the equipment off. I returned a few things, bought a few things, and got a quick pedicure and I'm back to work before the work day is even over.
Note to self: two hours can make a big difference. Stop whining and get driving.
I hate how when I journal in any format, it ends up being so dramatic. I write about the hysteria and then when it inevitably calms, I leave it be. If one were to know me through the blog only... Lord help me. I swear I'm a normal, old boring soul. In an effort to stem this dramatic tide, here are my updates (boring as they may be):
Dad got his blood gas test done two days ago. Great, right? It would be if a doctor could be bothered to actually look at it. The good part is that Dad has been really sounding and looking better. His color has returned which I think was the most frightening part for me. (His illness IS all about me, right?)
Joe and Jordan both came home last night. It's so nice having them both back. I made them a nice welcome the carnivores home roast which they both really appreciated.
We're planning a shower for my neice. Which is a bit awkward.
My mammogram came back normal.
Blah, blah, blah. This supports never posting about the everyday boring ever again.
I know that some babies are reading at 17 months and Nora is already an old nineteen month old, but tonight, she counted to three! I'm not saying she understands mathematics or is doing anything but repeating, but I'm still one impressed mama.
taking a page from Amanda and Jess (who were really taking a page from me, so what does that make this? total sidenote: that kind of crazy talk always reminds me of charlie manson)
random things about me
When I was a kid, he'd draw up plans for 'playhouses' at my direction. Multiple story creations with classrooms, fire poles, slides, and gymnastic areas. He never once told me it couldn't be done.
He always says, "Sarah's Dad can do anything!" and what's better than that is that he tells all seven of us the same thing (with proper names, of course)
I think he tells all of us that we're his favorite.
He has nothing and gives everything.
He makes up jokes. They may not be funny but I get a kick out of imagining him tossing ideas around.
When I was little, he threw pennies ahead of us when we were on walks so that I could find them. I didn't realize this until I was an adult.
He's all Mr. Niceguy for the most part but then can crack the bitchiest comments.
He loves my mom. Like a LOT.
In the glint of his eyes, you can see the little boy that he was.
He worked all day as a carpenter (and later as a custodian) and still had time and energy to play HORSE with me before dinner.
I'll add to this...
Today I had my first mammogram. Because I was adopted, my doctor wants to treat me as if I have a family history of cancer and other issues. Having one made me feel both old and energized. Whenever I have any sort of physical exam, I leave feeling like I might have superpowers AND I'm super responsible AND should minimally be given a parade. I understand that pain is a very individual thing, but I must say that for me, the mammogram wasn't bad at all. A couple positions were less than comfortable, but that's it. Prior to doing the actual thing, they marked scars with the cutest stickers you ever saw. I kept them.
Remember sticker albums?
I'm so glad to put this week to bed. So glad that I'm putting it to bed a day early as I don't have to 'work' tomorrow (only clean, shop, etc., etc.) Random stuff:
I'm too tired to do any of this justice. night chall.
With the major drama over, I'm on to lighter things.
I just saw a book called "List Yourself" ~ it's simply a book with prompts for you to write lists about yourself... Some of the examples provided were:
List All the People You Wish You Hadn't Trusted
List What Heals Your Aching Soul
List those Moments in Nature that Remind You of Your Connection to the 'Big Picture
List All the Times You've Hit the Jackpot
List All the Foods, Candy, and Other Treats You Loved to Snack On (as a child)
List All the Foods You'd Eat if Guaranteed You Wouldn't Get Fat
List all the idiotic things you've done for money
List all the phone calls that changed your life
List all of the rumors you have started
List the names you have been called endearing, and not so
List how you feel when you have been lied too
List all of the people who love you for who you really are
List the things you would change if you could change history
List the things you hide when friends come to visit
I'm thinking these are blog worthy... Maybe I'll go order the book.
If asked, I'd say I am experiencing a reasonable amount of worry over today's surgery. However, I sit here absolutely frozen. Really not even thinking. Shutting down is my way of telling me to take it easy (or catatonia awaits?) I'll just breathe. And move forward.
My dad has to have surgery. This makes me want to go into asylum fetal mode. My dad has been sick forever; and honestly, doing anything is almost too much for him. I can't imagine how surgery would go or if they'll even do it. I know that many people have faced and endured tragic losses. Losses that are incomprehensible and gargantuan compared to my own. But I don't care. I want to scream at the world that it's unfair. That a man who worked his fingers to the bone to support seven adopted children and still made time for bedtime stories and 'horse' should catch a break here and there. I know there are no special passes on the rules of the world and beyond, but I certainly don't have to like them.
Yeen and I were bitching about haircuts and trying to remember the last haircut we had received that we liked. We both remembered it at the same time... Ft Wayne... the razor special curly cut.. that puppy... waving ever so coolly (if the window had been open).
About seven (or ten, or whatever) years ago, I read about a new method that was being taught for cutting curly hair. I assume that I would have read this in Sassy (magazine) because I can't imagine any other magazine spurring me into action. For some reason, Sassy made me do shit. (Like handmake tiedyed stationery or drive to Canada.) So anyhow, I read about this method and started searching for someone near me to do it. At the time, I lived in Oak Park and was sure I'd be able to find someone in Chicago. Fortunately, it wasn't that easy. Rather, I found someone in Ft. Wayne, IN -- three and a half hours away. Also fortunately, I was blessed with Yeenie who took the location as a challenge. We made our appointments and then spent at glorious day road tripping for fabulous haircuts in nowhereville.
Great memories. Great haircuts. Greatest of friends.
maybe it's time for another trip
that's what I've got this evening. Because Jordan said that he was planning on going to school here next year. He said something casually... like, "it would be weird to just come here for one semester and then disappear..." I agreed and said that my dad always told me not to fix what wasn't broken. He plans on going home over the summer which scares the hell out of me. But all of that worry will wait for another day. Tonight? It's just me and my fuzzy heart.
This weekend we had no plans. Nothing. Zippo. Nada. We cleaned today and I got the groceries. Joe and Jordan played Risk. I played on the computer. Nora played and napped like a champ. Tomorrow, we'll go to church. That's it.
It's been the best time I've had in the longest. We need a break. I love everyone and want to spend more time with all, but man, this is nice. It's absolutely luxurious.
Nora had her eighteen month check up today and tomorrow is the 'official' day. Its simply unbelievable. She weighed in at 22 lbs 9 oz and measured 32 7/8 inches (doc said that its something like 47 and 95 percentile, respectively.) The checks for the A word were all fine for now and the doctor was impressed with the number of words she can say. SO impressed that I'm doubting myself. So, I'm listing them, yet again:
Animals and Sounds Kitty, Meow, Duck, Quack, Cow, Moo, Sheep, Baa, Birdie, Tweet, Bee, Buzz, Hop, Roar, Snap, Dog, Ruff, Oink, Elephant Sound, Fish, Bug, Mona, Monkey
Body Eye, Teeth, Hair, Eyebrow, Cheek, Mouth
Characters Nemo, Pat Pat, Eebee, Pooh
Clothing Sock, Shoe, Coat, Boots
Food and Eating Milk, Water, Bottle, Cheerios, Spoon, Fork, Plate, Cookie, Banana, Bread, Eat
Household and Toys Light, Wall, Sink, Book, Ceiling, Block, Movie, TeeVee (BLUSH), Chair, Blanket, Bed, Bath, Shower, Swim, PeekABoo, Phone, Ball
Nature Snow, Tree, Sky
People Mom (and many variations), Dad (and many variations), Grandma, Grandpa, Johna, Joe, Baby, and Obama
Phrases and Miscellaneous Nigh Nigh, Hi, Bye, Where Go?, AhdunNo, Please, More, No, Yes, Sit, Go, Up, ThereItIs!, Pretty, Here, Change, Cold, Hot, All Gone
Transportation Car, Jet, Choo Choo
Phew. Things are going at an alarming pace and yet when I sit back and consider them, there isn't anything that I'd realistically remove from my list. So the trick, for me, is to learn to love it all in little, fast pieces and to give myself a break when I accidently trip sometimes while running a marathon, juggling torches, with a baby on my hip.
How does everyone else do it with such grace?
Or maybe its all too much. Maybe its depression, winter, politics, war, pms, or work. Or maybe I'm just tired. Whatever it is, I feel so lifeless. The last couple of nights I've made sure to get to bed on time thinking that lack of sleep was the problem. But its not. Everything feels like it requires such a monumental effort. It is times like these that I hate having a history of depression because I just wonder, "doesn't everybody feel like this sometimes?" I bet they don't all sit around pondering every aspect of it. I bet they just make the monumental effort and get on with their sadsack selves. Which is what I want to do. Because I'm sure its going to be better just around the corner...
and on a completely other annoying note, i cannot remember the rules for its, it's, etc.
Being sick, that is. I was so sick yesterday. I couldn't imagine that I'd feel so much better today. It's kind of a weird thing because I have, of course, been sick in the past and each time I have gotten well. How is it that when you're in the middle of something, you just can't see your way out? When I thought of all I'd need to get done I just wanted to crawl under the covers. Today, I'm still achey and dizzy, but I look forward to the challenge. I wish knowledge like this would stay with me when I actually need it. Like yesterday. When I envisioned having to quit my job and living in squalor because I couldn't leave my bed...
