Concrete Plans

I can now check "make a sidewalk" off of my list. That's right folks...yours truly was part of a four person team (i.e. my husband, our two kids, and myself) who worked their buns off pouring a sidewalk from our mudroom to our carport...outside...in the HEAT. I have to admit it was kind of fun getting cement splatters on my expensive sunglasses (not) and blisters from my fake Crocs (not). I especially enjoyed yelling at my daughter to "Hurry Up with the trowel!" Oh, I also don't want to leave out the permanent indentions that are now on my knees from the sticks, rocks, and dirt. I looked especially stylish in my fluorescent orange "jogging" shorts (at least I got some use out of them this summer) and my baby blue field day t-shirt from work (which now hugs my tummy just enough to make sure everyone knows where my belly button is). My toneless white legs spilled out below and landed inside my navy fake Crocs from Wally World. To top off "the look" I had on my extra large and fancy black and white sunglasses and a camouflage floppy hat.

When all was said and done we somehow managed to get the job done in two and half hours. I was proud that I actually had dripping sweat as proof of my efforts. Now I can honestly say that I am looking forward to it actually raining so that I can get to my car without making a muddy mess of my high heels. I am hopeful that this will also alleviate the amount of grass, hay, muck, dirt, dust, and filth that seems to stick to my kids and live in my car.

As a reward for our hard work the four of us headed down to our local dive for a superb Mexican meal. We are so fortunate to have such a tasty establishment so close to our home. Now we are all bloated and tired and ready for a movie. It'll have to be pay-per-view (amazingly enough this will be our first ppv experience...I know...a computer, the internet and pay-per-view...all in the same year...the end must be near!) because we are nowhere near a Blockbuster and I don't think any of us can move. At least we can all go to bed knowing that we worked hard as a family, and that will forever be set in stone.

Home Sweet Home...Now Get Out!

It's amazing what a deadline will do to you. Now that "the end is near" as far as my summer vacation is concerned I have managed to finally tackle several of the projects that I thought of starting back on May 31st. My loft is...dare I say it...clean. My bathroom closet is straightened. Even the cabinet beneath my sink is organized. Now I'm starting to feel the urge to leave my house and meet with friends. While I enjoy being at home I think it has a lot to do with the fact that so much is left undone here. I always feel like I need to be here to put it all back together. But once everything is in its place I feel the overwhelming need to get the hell out before it gets messed up again!

That is the thing with working: you try so hard to balance your time off with just the right mix of doing everything you never have time for and doing absolutely nothing. I must say, I am quite the master of nothing...literally. I have never been a fan of staying busy and yet I've never even considered the word "bored." I truly take advantage of my time off and use it to refuel and recharge not only my physical self but my emotional soul as well. I firmly believe in slowing down and looking within. I have seen some great things I would have otherwise missed.

Going it Alone...Together

There is something to be said about how three women can alternate their time between overlapping sentences interpersed with a fit of giggles so intense they can only find their way out via a loosened bladder...and pure, unadulterated SOLITUDE. That just about sums up our girls' weekend at the lake. We had so much catching up to do but at the same time each of us needed our own personal getaway. It was so nice to not have our every thought or action questioned. If we wanted to eat...we ate. If we wanted to nap...we napped. At one point my daughter called and when I told her that each of us was sitting in our own chair, reading our own books, and that no one was talking to the other she simply replied, "That sounds boring." Ah...quite the contrary. There was so much going on within that words fail. But if you are a woman reading this you will no doubt "get it" when I say this: time stopped even though the shallow creek we were in babbled on. Heart rates slowed and blood pressures dropped even though cardinals flitted hither and yon and minnows darted left and right. I am sure that channels were changed and voices were raised all around the world that weekend, but not where we were. A remote control was no where to be found and our three voices threaded into one soft note of eternal friendship. Secrets were shared, memories were recalled, and hearts were filled. I love my friends and I love that they love me back.

And the Oscar Goes To

Oh she's good....my daughter has been laying on the guilt heavily. She wants so desperately to be included in my girls' weekend at the lake. She loves my friends and they love her back. While I am grateful to have been blessed with a daughter (both of my friends have sons) I am in great need of some adult time alone. I used to seethe whenever I would read those two words, "adult time," in my parenting books and magazines. I used to think "those people" were just selfish individuals who probably shouldn't have had children in the first place. I thought I was well on my way to an Oscar for my winning performance as MOM. Turns out I won...only it was an Oscar the Grouch award complete with silver trash can trophy.

Now I know better. Now I can honestly concede to the "conceited." Now that I have taken off my fog of motherhood glasses I can clearly see that "those people" were right. And Now I am one of them.

I am looking forward to the days when my daughter does accompany me on trips like these. I am looking forward to my friends embracing her and seeing her through all of the stages that we have already been through. I am blessed to have a daughter and I want her to want to be with me and my girlfriends. I just don't want it to be this weekend.

There is nothing wrong with sacrificing for your children. There is everything wrong with sacrificing yourself. I love my children dearly. I did not have them so that I could leave them at home to go play with my friends. The thing is this: I am in need of a recharge. I am in a season of reflection and growth. I just signed on for a role as MOM of TEENAGERS and I am hoping to walk the red carpet when the director calls it a wrap. In the name of research I am going away for the weekend...and I hope to come home with an Academy Reward.

Good Grub

We all need to surround ourselves with people who make us feel good. Tonight I called up a colleague whom I would never have met if we did not work at the same place. I find it interesting to gain friendships with women who we don't really know all that well but to whom we feel comfortable. She has crossed my mind several times this summer and while I was in the kitchen preparing a meal, from a recipe she lovingly gave me, I felt compelled to call her up. Just hearing her voice made me happy and we both starting talking all over each other's sentences and laughing from deep inside. It's nice to be able to bond over the simple fact that we are women.

We have lived completely different lives and never knew each other back in the day, but we can still wish the other well. As she shared with me her summer stories of adventure I not only enjoyed the telling but felt genuinely proud of her and her acomplishments. I love the women I work with. I love knowing that despite any differences we have we are all longing for many of the same things (and they aren't necessarily "things").

Tomorrow I leave for a girl's weekend at The Lake. I am actually beginning to feel giddy. I went so far as to prepare our main meal ahead of time (which NEVER happens with me), pack my bags (yes, plural), and charge up my camera's battery. I am ready to spend some time with two women who know everything there is to know about me.

You see, we have our friends who come to us without backgrounds (that we know of), and who we grow to love and enjoy. But if you are one of the lucky ones, like myself, you have your childhood friends; the ones who were there back in the day. My two best friends squooshed grub worms with me on the playground, passed notes back and forth in Science, and giggled over boys. Their tears have been on my shoulders and mine on theirs. They love me unconditionally and are my biggest supporters.

I am so glad that, despite the rushing days of life, we have made a point to get away together. I am looking forward to laughing, talking, laughing, listening, and laughing! We might wander down to the water's edge, skip a few rocks from a dock, and if we're lucky squoosh a grub worm or two.

Weather or Not

With the first hint of a rainy day I immediately turned on my amber lights and thought about lighting candles. The only thing stopping me was the fear that should we actually be in the path of an actual tornado the candle might tip over and catch the entire house on fire (never mind the fact that a tornado would more than likely pick up my house, candle and all, and drop it off in munchkin land). After receiving the warning call from a friend that we were under a tornado warning, I immediately set to work dragging a twin mattress into my bathroom closet along with my clock radio, by way of extention cord, wind up flashlight, three pillows, and Roo's dog bed. My kids and I had radar on the computer screen, News 4 on the t.v., and cell phones at the ready. I had already called my husband, mother, and sister. Should I stow some granola bars and bottled water into my closet? I was in adreneline mode. I was prepared to lay on top of my kids and protect them from flying glass.

Needless to say, (and thank goodness at that) the sky never got that steely grey color and I never heard a train. We got less than an inch of rain when it was all said and done. The wind never picked up and we received better satellite reception than on good weather days. But it got me thinking about the important things in life...like my journals. I couldn't help it...my first thought went not to the safety of my children, but to my hope chest that houses a lifetime of memories. At first I irrationally thought, "that hope chest is way too heavy to move," and then my next thought was, "tornadoes move entire houses you idiot!" That's right...I was worried about my writings. Whereas, on the other hand, my daughter had packed a purse full of MONEY (but only her 20s and higher...not those measely ones). My son was only fixated on the actual reds, yellows, and greens of the radar screen. My husband was at work. I kept close tabs on where Roo was at any given time.

I can't imagine being in a true emergency situation. I can't imagine losing everything you hold dear. My daughter was worried about her cousin's almost-completed home. My sister was worried about our parents. My friend was worried about me. I was worried about whether to put a mattress over us in the bathroom or the closet.

By late afternoon, after the immediate threat was over, I lost myself in a serious game of Star Wars Monopoly with my daughter. My son spent some time in the chicken coop. My husband came home as early as he could. I called my friends and grew excited as we made plans for an overnight girls' weekend at the lake.
Rain or shine life goes on...it's up to us to weather it out.

Magic Man

Three girls in a bar and all we attract is a rubber chicken. Let me set the scene for you: Lucy, Dana, and I finally got together for an evening at Champs. The last time all three of us were together was in November of '07. This girls' night was way overdue. We ordered a huge plate of nachos with the works and had ourselves a drink or two. We were getting all caught up in each other's drama when a man walked over to our table. He introduced himself as "The Rubber Chicken Magician" and informed us that he was paid by Champs and that he did not work for tips (good thing). He had a gold plated name tag to prove it had we asked for i.d. He worked his magic on Tuesdays and today was his day...lucky us.

He said that he had been wanting to come over to our table for a while but noticed that we were heavy in discussion and didn't want to interrupt. But when Lucy returned from the restroom he found his opening. He rattled on about male and female rabbits and then placed a spongey rabbit in Dana's hand..."Poof!" She opened her hand and an entire family of rabbits spilled out onto the table. We laughed the obligatory laughs and widened our eyes a little trying to humor him--not sure where this was heading. I snapped a picture or two and he returned to his table. A few minutes later he was back...this time with an invisible deck of cards. Since I never leave home without my very own invisible deck I whipped mine out for him to "see." He asked me to take the cards out of the box, pick a card, and return the rest of the cards to the box. He then asked me to "show" my card to Lucy and Dana, which I did. Next he asked me to put my card face up anywhere in his deck of downward facing cards (these are all invisible mind you). He asked me to tell him and Lucy and Dana the name of the card I had selected..."The 3 of clubs." He reached into his jacket's inside breast pocket and pulls out a very visible deck of cards. He fans them out and in the center there is one card that is facing the opposite way of the others...it was the 3 of clubs!!! Now that was cool!

When he came back to our table for the third time he made each of us a paper flower and said, "Next time I'll bring a Hershey's kiss to put in the center of it so I can give you a flower and a kiss." Okay...that's just creepy.

Message to all of you husbands out there who worry when your woman goes out with the girls: it's not like in the movies...at least not for Dana, Lucy, and I. We attract the old men with spongey rabbits in their pockets. You have nothing to fear. Magic man bid us a good night, handed out business cards, asked me to email him the photo I took, and told us he was picking up our tab. And then he disappeared.

When it was time to leave our waitress dropped off our bill...apparently rubber chicken man hadn't mastered that last trick of his.

More of the Same

The other day I was reading through some journal entries from 2005 and discovered that my state of being has not changed one bit. Those entries from three years ago could have easily been written this morning. It seems that the things that bugged me then are still bugging me today. The tasks left unfinished then are still unfinished. I have got to make some changes...I have got to make progress. I guess by way of putting these words out there I feel a tad more pressure to make it happen. I sincerely hope that in 2011 I don't look back on this entry with regret.

I know better than to say that my days of procrastinating are over...that would be a lie. I have come to embrace my ability to delay and try to use it to my advantage. I think that what I really need to do is to quit talking about doing things and simply DO them. Of course this means that I will now have to walk at least 20 minutes a day, clean up my loft once and for all, and write that book!



That being said...I've got work to do!

Incoming Message

As a mother I often wonder if anything I say or do gets across to my kids. When they were babies they were my central focus; my purpose. Now that they are 11 & 13 my focus has shifted...to me. I can't help it. I feel like I am "done." Then I feel guilty for wanting to be done. I know mothers are never done raising their kids...but I feel especially drained. I try to make myself feel better by calling what I am doing (or not doing to be more accurate) "preparing them for 'the real world.'" Frankly I am too tired from burning the candle at both ends for so long.

And then, last night, I got a text message from my son (he was spending the night at his grandparents') that read: "Good Night I love you." And in that second I felt the chills of "a moment" pass over me. To have your children initiate and envoke love...FOR YOU and TO YOU has got to be one of the greatest rewards of motherhood. I finally felt like maybe something I did or said resonated and really was absorbed. And while I don't spend as much time or attention to detail with them as I once did I am grateful that I put them first while building their foundation.

Bobcat Workout

Remember the "Ab-buster?" Or how about the "Chuck Norris/Christie Brinkley endorsed gadget?" What about the "exercise ball?" Perhaps you prefer pilates to Jane Fonda's step aerobics? Perhaps you're into yoga. Well prepare yourselves to toss out the Stair Master and the Bowflex because I've discovered the best kept secret in workout machinery: The Bobcat Workout.

I was "fortunate" enough to experience this phenom just the other day. Let me take you there: I was in the comfort of my air conditioned home doing things that made me happy...such as reading and lounging. My husband was outside doing whatever made him happy...such as...watering the yard and fixing things. He called me on my cell and asked me if I wanted to meet him outside and look for rocks. Hmmm...how interesting??? In the past we have enjoyed fossil hunting and I figured why not? I sauntered outside and walked down to the barn. As soon as I got there my husband told me that he needed me to operate the bobcat (as in TRACTOR) while he searched for large rocks that will be used to line our garden. Alrighty-then. I hopped up into the driver's seat and settled myself down amongst the grime. As I backed up the tell-tale beep-beep sounded and I was off. If you've never driven a bobcat then you are missing out. It is like an amusement park ride gone wild. The jerking alone will have you shaking hours after getting off the darn thing. The slimy orangy-brown grime that pools at the bottom of the gears along with the scent of engine and fuel will have you feeling fine in no time. Seeing as I am a short individual my legs were totally extended and believe it or not I used stomach muscles I never knew that I even had!

It was sweaty fun and I actually enjoyed it. I had to put up with a husband who thought it necessary to "show me where to turn" (so I wouldn't run over a TREE), but overall it was a great experience. I think I would much rather run over things and lift and drop a bucket than raise my left knee to my right elbow anytime!

A Thief in the Night

Last night, while sitting on the small tailgate of our old Willys Jeep, my husband and I were talking in the full moon's light. The jeep was parked at our barn near our garden. While I hate to interrupt others when they are talking I stopped my husband in mid-sentence. About 15 feet in front of us a dark, rounded shadow waddled into my line of sight. I knew immediately it was a raccoon. Both of us had flashlights in hand and we jumped down to follow the coon as it picked up speed and lumbered on down our drive. My husband and I returned to the jeep and after a few minutes heard a faint noise to our right. My husband aimed his light in the direction of the sound and found a masked bandit feasting on some roasted sunflower seeds that had been tossed onto the ground.

We sat and watched this beautiful creature delicately finger the seeds and blink it's eyes. We knew he saw us but he was determined to plunder. He was less than 5 feet from us. I grabbed my cell and called for the kids to come down from the house with my camera bag. When they got there we were able to snap some pics and enjoy the moment. At one point the raccoon scuttled off but quickly returned. Another raccoon showed up in the corner of our garden...we were surrounded!

I could not help but to think of God and His magnificent design. That He would create a creature that dons a black mask and steals from people...you've just got to love it! I feel so blessed to be able to raise our kids in the country. There are times when the dust and the dirt, the lack of stores and the lack of friends can become inconvenient. But then there are times like tonight: when you can sit outside on the back of a jeep beneath a full moon watching a wild animal doing what it does naturally. When the loudest noises are the whispers of your family and the crunching of sunflower seeds.

Goodbye Puppies...Hello Teen Idols

Now that my daughter's bedroom is cleaned out she is spending a little more time in there. Last night she called me in to her room because she needed some help securing a poster to her wall. Not just any poster...the Jonas Brothers poster...Nick&Joe&Kevin, and the Miley Cyrus/Hannah Montana poster...and the Selena Gomez poster...etc. She has had these posters up in different variations for some time now but the difference is that now they are the only posters on her walls. Down came the cute posters of the little kitty with the tiara whose caption read, "It's hard work being this cute." Down came the poster of the three terriers in front of the chalk board. Down came the silly dog poster...the one with all of the different dog faces that look like you are viewing them from a door's peephole.

And so the transition to the dark side has begun. The force is starting to be felt with her...and with me. It begins with the morphing of the walls from cute and cuddly pets to cute and cuddly boys. Then it will be the purging of the Walmart wardrobe. Next she'll break out the eyeliner. The posters will come down and others will go up in their place. I pray that her only "experiments" will be with hair color products!

For now though she is still my little girl...the one who "gets the joke" and enjoys spending time with me. She is the one who needed me during this morning's "toe procedure" at the podiatrist's office. She is the one who was thrilled to have "earned" a Frosty after hobbling out of the doctor's office. She is growing up and into her preteen existence. I just hope that I live through it all! (The scary thing is--I know I will!).

Shaken-Not Deterred

Before I fell asleep I visualized "the perfect day." This visualization had me waking well-rested and happy. I looked like those made up actresses after a great night. Hell...I could've been a Bond girl. My dark, auburn tresses (slightly curled at the ends) cascaded down my back...my bare, tanned back. My legs were toned and my butt was thong worthy. I slinked into the bathroom where I changed into my sporty athletic wear. I now looked something like Eva Longoria...all tiny and petite. My Nike running shoes were like new (though I'm certain I have gone through pair after pair) and my cheekbones were high...it was time to hit the pavement. I jogged my morning mile or four and returned to a still sleeping husband. I showered and then put on some silky pajamas with a matching robe...the kind with the flirty butterfly sleeves. I fluttered into the breakfast nook where I prepared my coffee. As I was standing over the stove creating a breakfast for champions my sexy husband shuffles his way behind me. He's got on those perfect manly pajama pants-rolled down just so...something Pierce Brosnan would perhaps wear...

That's as far as I got. Sorry to disappoint. I kept replaying it over and over but I never got past the stove. But I will tell you this: I woke up this morning before my alarm (yes, I set my alarm...I have to get something done this summer!) and I...are you ready for this?...put on my tennis shoes! Freaky weird I know. I put on some shorts and a T and went on a morning walk/jog. Granted my sort-of-blonde bob and I would not get a call back at a Bond girl audition, and as far as that butt image I mentioned earlier...I can't even fit into a sarong these days let alone a thong. But I did get up, exercise, have a cup of coffee, and I even made scrambled eggs.

I am SO glad that my visualization stopped at breakfast!!!

Sugar and Spite

Girls...we are quite the confusing species are we not?

We will keep ourselves awake out of spite...but the only one who isn't getting their beauty rest is US! We will stew and stew but don't want to cook. We ask the questions but don't want the answers.

Somebody Knows

Since I was not in the mood to go to bed I stowed away in my loft to type up a few entries. Before I got two paragraphs in my daughter was up the stairs needing my suggestions on what she should think about (she needs "happy thoughts" before falling asleep). I offered up the usual: Christmas, cousins, cooking. I figured she was set and went to work typing again. Before I knew it I could hear her feet stepping up the wooden stairs. What now? When I turned to look at her I noticed that her face was red and wet from tears. She was visibly upset and thus earned a spot on my couch. While I am not a licensed psychologist I do play one at home. My thirteen year old couch is always ready for sad visitors. I keep my favorite fuzzy pink blanket, black velour robe, two pillows, and a small brown and pink polka dot squishy pillow on it at all times. By the sound of silence to my right I think it is working.

Seems to me that when life gets a little too tough, a little too scary, or a little too sad it is best if we can surround ourselves with someone who truly cares for us. Someone who will listen to our stories; someone who will wipe away our tears; someone who knows how to stock a couch.

She's the One

She's the one who sends you flowers when he doesn't. She's the one who knows when it's best to offer advice and when it's better just to pat your back while whispering, "Shhhh...it's all going to be alright." She's the one who puts her late-breaking news on the backburner when you call and unload on her. She's the one who shows up when you need her most.

Thanks, Mom, for always being there for me whether near of far. Thanks for being you so that I can be me.

Mom's the Word

It is 5:04 a.m. and I have been up since 3:00. Just when I felt somewhat caught up on my sleep (if that is even possible) my eyes popped open and out of bed I flew. If this is what it takes to allow me some peace and quiet--some time to myself--then so be it. As a mother it often feels like I am just that: "Mother." Not "Me." Truth be told I don't even know who "Me" really is. I know who she was but she has since morphed. I don't mind being "Mom," in fact, it's who I always wanted to be when I grew up. Only once I became her there was still a lot more growing up to do.

I am at a point where my kids are no longer infants and completely dependent upon me but at the same time they are still young and need stability and direction. While I prefer their older versions to their younger ones I am starting to feel a little exhausted and frustrated. I hate complaining because it is nothing like those early years where I did not sleep-EVER! Times are actually good right now! I hate to sound selfish---I think, I hope, this is something most mothers go through--the struggle to find "self" in between lessons and lectures; dinners and dishes.

Footing the Bill

What do infected toenails, protractors, and hypoglycemia all have in common? They were all a part of my day. As soon as I woke up this morning my daughter showed me her toe. Good Morning to you too! Back in April, three days after her birthday, my daughter experienced the partial extraction of an ingrown toenail...ouch! Since then she has started to re-experience the same throbbing, reddness, and soreness until just the other day, while spending the night at Grandma's, when a burst of "avacado green" pus shot out from beneath her toenail...GROSS!!! Like any good parent I stalled hoping it would "heal itself" after a few applications of hydrogen peroxide and bacitracin...uh....no.

And so off we drove to an Urgent Care facility. Apparently the nail matrix was starting to embed itself??? (the dr. lost me with "Matrix"...all I could envision was Keanu Reeves and slow motion bullets). He referred my daughter to a podiatrist whom we will see on Friday. Looks like both sides of her toenail may have to be removed as well as some "preventative" extractions on the other big toe as well. Nothing like starting off your 6th grade school year without big toenails.
Next stop--Walmart (of course). I dropped off a prescription for some antibiotics and we set to work hunting down school supplies. Back in the day this sort of activity was the coup de gras of my summer. I remember carefully selecting the perfect Trapper Keeper and tote bag (backpacks were something only mountain climbers used). I wrestled with such heavy decisions as whether or not my folder should front fluffy animals or else Shaun Cassidy. Not this generation. They are forced to follow a generic list of such ghastly items as tissue, ziplock baggies, and dry erase markers (for the teachers). They are told which color folders to purchase and then...get this...most of "their" supplies go into a pot. Sure, there will always be "those kids" who show up with their Disney Channel it-girl folders and "forget" to bring their baggies. But what do you do? I try so hard to teach my kids to "follow the rules" all the while knowing I could possibly be setting them up to be in the minority. Nevertheless I trudge on answering to a higher authority (and secretly making sure the baggies are amongst their supplies).

As far as the hypoglycemia is concerned...well...that was me...hitting a very shaky and jittery low. By now it was way past lunch (and I barely had time for a cup of coffee before leaving the house) and I was not about to stop for anything to eat since I am now "practicing self-restraint" when it comes to my purchasing prowess (this topic deserves it's very own blog post---later)...(by the way this "restraint" reads as: don't buy sustenance when you can buy something far better such as a purse!). I grabbed a Coke at the checkout counter and $141.++ later my daughter and I were out the door. Wait! Did I just type in $141.++??? That's right ladies and gentlemen...school supplies. And get this: my daughter's prescription only cost $4.00!! Yes, I threw in a box of butter, a gallon of ice cream, 2 cans of peaches, and 3 bottles of wine (and I wonder why I can't lose those last 10+pounds!!!)...But Hey! I needed some school supplies of my own!!!

Check It Out

After church this morning a colleague of mine asked me if I had been up to the school. When I told her that I had not she replied, "...Oh...you must not have received your email." Turns out 50% of our classrooms were damaged when a sprinkler head went off leaving 1"-4" of water in the rooms. The library was included in that 50%...I am the librarian.

She's Back

Well...she's back home. In a matter of 1 hour and 4 minutes she has managed to roll her eyes enough times to make up for her two day absence. I keep chanting and wiggling my fingers like someone trying to ward off evil spirits-"No room for negative energy, no room for negative energy." Somehow she got me to prepare her a tall glass of chocolate milk (though in the end she had to doctor it up a little more to her liking...thus totally taking the "milk" out of the equation). I gently asked her to empty the dishwasher (it's all in the approach) but barely received a grunt of acknowledgement from the back of her head.

She wanted me to practice calligraphy with her, she wanted me to doctor her toe, she wanted me to scratch her back, she wanted to make up for her lost time with Mom. She just spent two days of undivided attention from Grandma and Grandpa and must have used up all her happy. It makes me wonder why some people, even my own child, prefer to pout. I am such an empathetic soul that this unnerves me to no end. My stomach starts feeling queasy and I want to run around apologizing to them; for them. Why is this?

All I can do is to continue to look for the good and stay on the positive course. I know that while I can parent to the best of my ability I can not change another. I can only pray and release.

Sons and Daughters

Too tired to type but too moved not to. Tonight I spent some time out in the barn with the two men in my life. Watching my husband and son work together made me a little weak in the knees. To think that my husband and I made such a neat little person makes me so darn proud and yet humble. I am lost in the magnitude of it all. As I was sitting in a dirty chair scratching my legs and fighting the voice inside that kept trying to drag me back to the house and all of the unfinished business there I was struck with the knowledge that my son was such his own person. In a flash I saw that chubby round happy face that was his when he was a year old. Now he is thirteen and has such a sly smile that reminds me a little of Harrison Ford's. His hair is more long than short, his shorts are more filthy than clean, and his company is more welcome than not.

Just the day before I spent my time inside air conditioned stores. I was surrounded with clothes and jewelry, purses and shoes. It was a girl heaven. My mother and daughter and I giggled and joked and enjoyed all things clean and pretty. Tonight I was surrounded by grease and grime, engines and tools. It was a boy heaven. My husband and son and I laughed and joked and enjoyed all things gross and stinky. I truly have the best of both worlds...only the two worlds are actually one. I feel very blessed to get to surround myself with snips and snails and sugar and spice.

As I watched my son make a pyramid out of the old 7UP cans my husband collected as a kid I couldn't help but to feel like we had truly done something good. It was if all moments led to this one. All I could think about was the fact that I was living a moment and the moment was a good one.

Tomorrow I will bring my daughter home after church and we will once again be a family of four. I am sure the drama that comes along with a having a daughter will follow as I am certain that the antagonizing that comes along with having a son will remain. But nevertheless I am thankful for brief moments when I am allowed the luxury of time to step back from the pit and regain my bearings. Thanks, Mom, for the reprieve...it was exactly what I needed.

Less is More

What a day! I spent the entire day with my daughter and my mother. We are all very close and yet very rarely do we take the time to spend the time. Today I am glad that we did if for no one else than for my daughter. She has had a rough string of days of late and to see her bouncing with excitement and sheer bliss meant so much to me. She is always asking for a "girl's day" but her mother is always playing catch up at home (note to self: you'll never catch up).

My mother has been wanting to go shopping with her granddaughter and to have her spend the night and today was "the day." My daughter did not know about these plans until late last night. When I told her she began shrieking and jumping up and down. The best part was when she kept saying, "I'm so excited! I'm so excited!" (Although when she said it it sounded more like one long word: I'msoexcited!...and it was said with a smile so wide it made me wishing I were a kid again).

The first thing we did after picking up my mom, Grandma, was to park at one end of her town's Main Street and shop hop. We oooohed and ahhhhhed at all of the way too expensive items and touched everything we could. As soon as one of the three of us were on opposite ends of the store one of us would call over to the others to "come see!" For the most part we had the stores to ourselves as it was a "work day" (hee hee). After all of four stores we were hungry! We drove over to a Chinese Restaurant and each had a plate of sesame chicken; our favorite! We had to drive back to Mom's to put all of our leftovers in her fridge before heading off to S.A. My daughter kept hinting that she wanted a frappacino, "..since it's such a special day you know." I'm not real keen on getting a habit like this started (I didn't even start drinking coffee until I was close to 30). However, something deep within tells me that she is not going to let something as trivial as my rules keep her from doing what she wants (pray for me now). And so, in the end, I agreed and we ended our night at Starbucks (I have close to 10 gift cards from students) sipping caramel frappacinos (my first). We are such social losers that Mom and I had to call my sister and my sister-in-law to get coached on what and how to order. When we requested that our drinks be caffeine free we were told that they were all out of decaf. WHAT? We had to wait 10 minutes before they could "mix it up" for us. I'm telling you...stick around with this blog and you will learn that these sort of "things" happen ALL THE TIME to myself and my family.

All in all our stops in San Antonio included Justice for Girls, Ross Dress for Less, Target, and Barnes & Noble/Starbucks. We walked into Justice (my daughter's favorite place to look) and right away she wanted the entire outfit on display. For those of you without young kids, a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and a single pair of tennis shoes does not at "outfit" make. Kids these days must wear layers of clothes thus translated as: $$$. One must have the coordinating headband, shoes, bangles, earrings, tote bag, leggings, mini skirt, tank top, t-shirt, and jacket. Please keep in mind that these kids grow hourly. My mother and I did what we thought best: we stood my daughter in front of the mannequin and rattled off the price of every single item...out loud. When the total came to $90.00 FOR 1 OUTFIT we gave her the look that includes the raised eyebrows and the tight-lipped smile with a slight downward nod of the head. She got the message and we walked over to Ross Dress for Less.

Today was truly her lucky day because EVERYTHING my daughter tried on not only fit but looked fantastic on her. Earlier in the morning I had prepared her for the fact that just because we were going "shopping" didn't necessarily mean we were going to be "buying." But when you're hot you're hot! The little stinker ended up with an entire new wardrobe, probably close to 11 outfits (that are all interchangeable), and we only went $35 dollars over the cost of the single outfit at Justice! She even walked out of Ross with 4 pairs of shoes! "Train a child in the way he should go..." Amen!

I had fun waiting for my daughter to come out of the dressing room each time she tried on a new outfit. Usually I am in the room with her, but this time Grandma and I sat in the room opposite her's and were her captive audience. We could see her ankles only but knew she was happy by the bounces, twists, and pivots.

We giggled and we held hands. We hugged and we tugged. But mostly we shared time and love. I am very grateful that I have a daughter to experience these moments with...and I do appreciate that they are just that...moments. I know to hold them close because they may not happen has often as I would like...but then again...maybe they will.

I did not get home until after midnight and when I called to let everyone know I was home safe and sound Mom told me that she and her granddaughter were probably going to stay up one more hour. They were giving each other massages and telling stories. My daughter told me, "Mom...I am SO EXCITED!"

Maybe that is why I am not even sleepy now at 1:57 a.m. I, too, am so excited that my mom is able to spend some time with my daughter and my daughter is able to spend time with her grandmother. There is nothing that makes me happier than knowing that my kids are happy. When I walked in the door of my house a little after midnight all I could see was the blue flicker of our television. My son's head was craning over the back of the chair searching for me. "I've been waiting for you to get home" were his first words to me.

My family may be dressed for less but my heart runneth over.

Time Out

Friendships. Women. I've been thinking about both lately. While I have always appreciated friendship I now crave it. I think that women especially need to be able to commisserate with other women. In talking with a friend of mine over the telephone it became apparent that although our lives are extremely different and our timetables are not the same we still endure the same emotions when it comes to motherhood and selfhood. As my friends and I are now closer to 40 than 30...(okay...than 35 even-gulp) we are feeling a tad bit "stuck" in between the demands of motherhood and the rising desire to shift our focus to ourselves.

For many in our generation our mothers stayed at home. But there were still plenty of us whose mothers were beginning to go back to work. That has us floundering a bit as we try to balance our own lives against the backdrop of our youth. We want so badly to be there for our kids...to ensure that they have stability and our presence. The problem with that is with us working full time we have no time for ourselves. A couple of hours or even a whole day is simply not enough of a recharge. We aren't wishing our kids away we're just wishing.

Shopping With Kids...Not Recommended

What has happened to me? I am sitting on my bed drinking a beer in a floor length, zippered, velour robe (and that’s only because my family is home). I do not want anything touching me. I took off all of my jewelry; including my earrings (and I always wear jewelry). I even went so far as to take off my favorite raspberry toenail polish. My face is washed and my hair is clean. So why am I so desperate to cleanse myself and rid myself of … well…myself? I’ll tell you why. I went to San Antonio with my children today. For you mothers out there that sentence should pretty much sum it all up, but for those without children, or heaven forbid, those of you with perfect children let me “take you there.”

It all started with a 9:45 doctor’s appointment for my son. As simple as that may sound it wasn’t (as you’ll come to find out reading my blog nothing in my life is simple). To start things off I had to bring my daughter along (read: sibling rivalry…make that brother/sister rivalry). To complicate things (on a double standard level) my husband was not going to be home (although he is off from work today)…therefore he would “not be available” to watch our daughter. He made it very clear that since he was “on vacation” he needed to go into town to take care of some business (clothes and tool shopping). Thus the first pebble was released into my shoe. Seeing as I am “on vacation” too I needed to take care of some business too (like taking our son to the pediatric cardiologist). A few echocardiograms and dopplar sonograms later I decided to make the most out of our gas tank and knock out some shopping.

This did not bode well with the kids…my son especially. I don’t blame them, but geez louise…if I didn’t go then who knew when my “next chance” would be? I needed to pick up a birthday present and I quite simply just wanted to know that “everything was still there.” I looked at several purses and started to openly recognize this as a sign I was crying out for help (I have ENOUGH bags already!). I had to put up with grunts and groans and constant whispers of “…it’s time to go now…it’s time to go now…” Every time I turned around I bumped into one of them. They were practically stepping on me. All their life I had taught them to “stay close.” Today I was given the evil eye by store employees and other shoppers (sans kids) as I continually yelled at my kids to “Go Away!” In all honesty I wanted them far far away because I wanted to fondle merchandise without anyone else’s comments. I wanted to make a decision without a spy or tattletale. I wanted to be a grown up.

Looking back I should have gone straight home after the doctor’s appointment (that’s why I had originally scheduled it so darn early in the morning in the first place!). It’s just that while my husband can come and go and do what needs to be done on a whim I am never able to. Yes, I’m jealous. Yes, I’m pissed. Yes, I’m already planning my getaway…and when I do…I already have the perfect purse to take me there!

Coffee Grounds, Anyone?

Ahhh...it's early morning on The Lake. I am trying to make it out onto the porch with a steaming cup of coffee without waking anyone else (not as easy as it would seem considering the rusted coils of the extremely long spring that is part of the screen door leading from the kitchen to the porch). All I want to do (and need to do in order to be pleasant until the next morning) is drink at least one cup of coffee in an uninterrupted and quiet sitting. As I step out onto the porch I see my mother-in-law's back as she sits sipping her coffee staring at the lake below and beyond. I settle into the chair next to her and notice about 11 buzzards on a dock. Not a good sign. I snap a few pictures and then take a few sips. I whip out my current read and as soon as I flip to the right page my mother-in-law starts talking to me. I do the tight smile thing (the one where no teeth are showing) and flit my eyes back and forth from page to face to page...hoping to passively get the point across that I would like to READ. Like most situations...passivity didn't work.

I went back inside to refill my mug and after pouring the coffee and adding the cream I went for the sugar...only I methodically (and, obviously, still comatose) opened the refrigerator, opened the coffee can, and scooped out a spoonful of coffee grounds and poured them into my doctored coffee. Had I been ALONE this would have been one thing, but, as luck would have it my mother-in-law was watching all of this practically with her chin upon my shoulder. We laughed and laughed like two good buddies who now have a secret..."what happens in the cabin...stays in the cabin" (only inside my head I'm thinking back to the buzzard omen and can only think Alfred Hitchcock thoughts).

Ultimately the time came for me to put on my bathing suit. It only took me 27 minutes due to the fight I had with the flimsy "pads/liners" inside my bathing suit top. It was like orthroscopic surgery trying to untwist, straighten, and align those things using only the tips of two fingers through the 1/4" slit in the top corner. All this and I was going to wear either a cover up or a life jacket the whole time! I swear!

Now for the fun part: skiing! Note to all you athletic people out there: Just because someone (ME) doesn't WANT to do something doesn't mean that they (I) CAN'T! I am quite content to sit and ride and watch and apply sunscreen. I love taking pictures of all our your stunts. LEAVE ME ALONE!! To get everyone off my back I finally jumped into the water and got up on the kneeboard (on the first try thankyouverymuch). So there!

One night my husband set up a projector so that we could watch a movie outside against the white wall of the cabin. We had rented The Bucket List and were excited about watching it. I thought it was going to be all about living but in actuality it was all about dying…dying via cancer and chemo. This hit way too close to home as my father-in-law's mother just completed her first round of chemo treatments last week. Awkward moment.

Right now I am sitting on my bed in the lake cabin. Both kids are jumping from room to room without touching the floor (they are doing so by jumping from bed to bed). My son takes pride in his death defying leaps while my daughter is a little more fearful and whiney. After multiple attempts I had to play the grown up card and tell them not to jump on the furniture. The guys are outside doing whatever it is that guys do; searching for koozies before they start to work on another construction project. Roo is beside me sleeping away.

I have to admit it…lake living is relaxing (in a “don’t have everything you need” kind of way). It never fails that being away from home (i.e. being away from the ever imposing black cloud of things to do) allows me to really “allow myself” to relax. I relax when I’m at home but I always feel guilty about it (of course, as I type these words I am developing the anxiety ridden bubbles in the top of my stomach---I can feel them trying to float their way to my throat…I am ready to drive until I run out of gas…my daughter is the reason for it this time. She is on the bed next to mine and she is trying desperately to gain my sympathy and attention (which I am refusing to acknowledge). She is huffing and puffing and curling into a ball and kicking her legs…she is whining and sighing…finally her brother walks through and asks, “What is wrong with YOU?” She tells him that he accidentally hit her in the nose and it really hurts. He tells her he is sorry and I tell them both that I am going to go out on the porch (which I do not want to do). "Why?" my daughter asks. And I say because it is not relaxing in here. Immediately she jumps off her bed (healed!) and skips off to the next room.

I have b.o. despite applying deodorant and I have played “guest” to my mother-in-law's “Dr. Phil.” All I want to do is eat Vanilla Wafers and sleep in soft pajamas. But I’ll settle for Jack Daniels and damp shorts.

Help Wanted

After spending several days at the lake for the 4th of July weekend it is good to be back at home. Thank goodness nobody came by and cleaned things up while I was gone! I don't know what I would have done if they had. At least now there is plenty to do to help me feel right at home. Now that it is almost 5:00 in the evening I have finally finished washing dishes and dragging all bags to their prospective rooms. I had my daughter sweeping and vacuuming to help me out but it almost wasn't worth it having to bear the extreme eye-rolling and downward turned mouth. She looked like Cinderella (not the "going to the ball version" either). I felt like the evil step mother. But I got over it.

My son helped his dad move a small storage barn of ours using a bobcat tractor. My son is an excellent operator! He handles that bobcat with ease. Having said all that I hate to divide the kids' work up into such stereotypical jobs: the girl in the kitchen and the boy in the field. It just ends up that way. I mean, I too can drive a bobcat but I'd rather work inside (even though I loathe housework). My daughter thinks she is getting the raw end of the deal but she doesn't exactly like yardwork all that much. Basically it comes down to the fact that everybody needs some help with all of the responsibilities of life.

My husband is off from work for a few days and he is trying to get multiple things done around here. The problem is that he needs my help. Don't get me wrong...I don't mind helping it's just that his needs include sweat, heat, and dirt. Oh, and heavy lifting too. When and if I ever ask for help it is more to the tune of "could you pick up your stuff?" Maybe I need to ask for more help more often. It just doesn't ever occur to me to inflict misery and suffering on others. If I don't want to scrub and fold and wash and wipe why would anyone else?

Getting Out of Dodge

We're off to The Lake for the 4th of July weekend. I wish that I had a wireless connection so that I could keep posting, but, alas, no. And so I will have to get you all caught up upon my return (sometime next week). After many years of visiting the lake I've finally got our packing down to a fine art and a minimal number of bags. This is so not the case this time. I think it has something to do with the fact that I am ready to get gone...and possibly stay gone!

Have lots to say---but it'll have to wait until next time.

Happy 4th!!!

P.S. My husband and I met each other at The Lake over the 4th of July weekend...22 years ago! Yay us!

Ladies & Gentlemen...Step Right Up...but pay no attention to the man behind the curtain

When thinking about the last few months of my life I can't decide whether to compare them to The Wizard of Oz, or Barnum & Bailey's 3-ring circus. Let's take the past 9 hours for example: I woke up at 4:00 a.m. and tossed and turned until 5:00. I felt a little nauseated, still very drowsy, yet eerily coherent. I decided to grab a blanket, a pillow, my robe, and a book and head up to the loft. (The nausea was due to one too many on an empty stomach, the drowsiness was because I can never get enough sleep, and the coherentness was a direct result that I had taken an hour nap at 4:00 that afternoon).

I tried to read as much as I could and then finally succumbed to sleep...the good kind. Couch sleeping is the best...something about the security of the back rest, the idea that you are alone, and the fact that after 13 years the springs have sprung and the cushions and I are friends. At 6:30 I heard the crashing and banging, clanking and clunking noises of my husband moving about in the kitchen. Our home has an "open design" which means when one breaks wind the others are fully aware. While I "played dead" beneath my pink blanket I tracked my husband's every move with my highly developed sense of hearing. It was not hard. There was the slamming suck of the refridgerator door, the spoon bouncing off the bottom of the sink, the hard plastic slam of the microwave, the high-pitched beep of the microwave's numbers, the loud whirring of the microwave, and, finally the long beeeeeeep! alerting him (and me) that "breakfast is served." Of course, he still had to reopen and reshut the microwave door. I heard the jingle of Roo's tags signalling that somebody better let her outside. I heard the jangle of the door knob and then slam of the door shutting thus touching on just about every one of my pet peeves.

I forced myself to go back to sleep knowing that it was only 6:30. Before I knew it I heard clomping on the stairs as my nephew and son were coming up to the loft to build a Lego city. (Have you ever heard the noise a thousand Legos makes when a child swishes his hand back and forth through them to find 'just the right piece'?). Down below my daughter is starting to stir and then calls out in as pathetic a whine as possible, "Maaaaaaawwwwwwwwmmmmm....my throat hurts."

By 8:30 our house was in full swing. The boys were upstairs playing with Legos, my 3 year old niece was running back and forth to the toilet, my daughter was gargling salt water and spraying Chloraseptic, my sister-in-law was trying to feed her daughter breakfast, and I was trying to find my happy place.

When I looked out the back window I noticed that my large beach bag was in a different place/position from where I left it (I had to leave it outside because it was full of ants). I also noticed that my straw mat was strewn across the backyard with one of our large rocks atop it. After a quick inventory it was determined that I was missing two mesh bags. One of them was filled with snacks and the other was filled with something I can't remember...hopefully nothing of great value). We have had run-ins with raccoons before but this time it affected moi instead of only the hummingbirds. Later in the day I found one of the mesh bags--it was dangling on our back fence behind some trees...it was empty.

All of this before lunch time! Tonight I can look forward to a trip to Walmart (by myself-God willing). We are getting a few sprinkles (the first in months--we are in the middle of a terrible drought). This will help keep the dust out, but it will also allow the mud in. While I am extremely grateful our floors are concrete I am just a little sad that they are yellowed brick.

While there's certainly no place like home...there's also no place like my home.

Getting Ready for Round 2

I got out of bed super early this morning (one reason being that my husband turned on the top light and flung a stack of papers onto the bed for me to sign-no...not "those papers"-we are in the process of refinancing our vehicles and he "forgot to have me sign them last night"). Since I was now awake I decided to go ahead and get with the program. This is the longest I've been "alone" in a while. The kids are thankfully still asleep and I was able to catch the opening sequence of the Today Show for the first time this summer. I've had a cup of coffee, been on the computer, and watched my brother-in-law tromp through the house to shower and refill his water jug. I have loads of laundry to do, plenty of "stuff" to unpack and put away, and countless other tasks to keep me busy. By the time I get everything in its place it will be Wednesday night---time for me to pack a whole 'nother set of "stuff" for our extended weekend at the lake. Granted the only salt will be found in a shaker on the table, but still...it's another "vacation". Only this time it is with my husband's family instead of mine.

Like the seagull in the picture above I have mixed emotions. Part of me wants to yell "Mine! Mine! Mine!" as they do in Finding Nemo. Another part of me simply wants to soar above it all. Of course, the seagulls are always hovering...battling the strong winds...waiting for cheetos or bread crumbs to be thrown up at them...me...well...the racoons stole my Cheetos and my bread is squooshed and moldy.