My future mother in law just left to head back to New Orleans, and honey just left to go to work after being off since Friday. He's off tomorrow and works New Year's Eve. He should be home before midnight, though. Cop's schedules suck, sometimes, but that's how it goes.
It was nice having M.J. in town, we don't get to see her often. She made this incredible cheese cake for our Monday Night Football Party, which was a nice bonus on top of Drew Brees record breaking year. The fact that he broke Marino's record with a touchdown pass, in New Orleans and we beat the Falcons was awesome. We are hoping for another trip to the Super Bowl for our team this year!
Christmas itself was nice. This year was different in as much as we didn't have to spend Christmas Eve at the hospital with mom, like last year. Although it's been a rough year for the family, and especially my mother with her knee, we are beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
It's miraculous, really, considering that at one point we were being told to expect the worst. It's also a lesson in how to never take things for granted. A seemingly simple surgery can cascade into complications galore and change one's life in ways unintended. This isn't to say that the experience was all bad. One learns things about oneself when faced with challenges. Whether we grow from them or not is up to each individual.
My Aunt Merle passed away in November. I am still so sad over that. My mother lost her only remaining sibling with her passing, and she was extremely close to Aunt Merle. If there is a blessing amongst this, it is that mom was well enough, or had the strength, to spend the last two weeks of Aunt Merle's life with her. She was at her side, along with my cousins, when she passed. I got to say a good-bye to her, as well, although I didn't know it was a good-bye at the time.
About a month before she died, when my dog accidentally called her on my cell phone, we had a nice chat. She told me that she was sorry to have to die before I graduated from school, but that she would proudly be watching me from Heaven. She went down hill so fast after that, we thought that she had at least a year. As much as we hate the fact that she is gone, the other blessing in this is that she did go so soon. The cancer had gotten into her bones, already weakened by Rheumatoid Arthritis, and that is a horribly painful cancer to have. At least she didn't have to suffer for a year, drugged up and in bed. She would have hated that.
Another blessing was the fact that I got to see some of my cousins again, and it had been far too long. We all live so far away from each other, our lives being lived, we never really lost touch, but we didn't see one another as often as we used to. In the way of love and family, though, it was like the years fell away. So when I found myself reminiscing about childhood Christmases at Aunt Merle's this season, it was bitter sweet, but also comforting. Especially when I hold, and smell the small rosary that my cousins (Aunt Merle's daughters) Carol and Mary had made. It is a beautiful piece and it's filled with the crushed flowers from Aunt Merle's funeral arrangements. They had one made for my mother, me and my two sisters. I carry it everywhere with me. I can wear it as a bracelet, but I am not ready for that yet.
I will wear it on my wedding day. I will wear it when I graduate from nursing school.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
The June Cleaver Update
The other day, I posted on Facebook that I was going to spend the day baking. That came to naught, as a few last minute Christmas presents needed to be purchased, and it fell upon me to brave the maddening hordes. I can't even begin to describe the felicity that I experienced at the local Walmart, with it's many babies clad in tops and diapers, no pants to speak of, complete with runny noses and coughs. Their mothers left much to be desired in their choice of attire as well. I'm not saying that I journey out to shop dressed as if I am attending tea with the queen, but I do at least make sure that I am clad in something other than spandex and a too small t-shirt. There are just some women who SHOUDN'T wear spandex, or too small t- shirts for that matter, yet they insist on doing so. Scratch that. Unless you are a dancer or you work in your town's hooker area, you shouldn't wear spandex in public at all. Think of it as the woman's version of a man in a Speedo...it just shouldn't be done.
I digress.
Today was the day that I finally did almost all of the baking that I didn't get to the other day. This almost came to naught as well, when I managed to pinch a finger in my folding step stool, which I was deploying in search of powdered sugar. Long story short, I managed to break my solar nail clear down to the quick of my finger, in the middle of the finger. It hurt like hell and bled too. The nail salon told me to come back after Christmas for a repair to give the skin of my nail bed time to heal. I am so looking forward to the repair. I hope that a liberal amount of super glue will be all that is required for the repair, and not the removal of my nail. I know that would hurt. Badly.
As for the baking, I made peanut butter cookies, chocolate chip cookies, thumb print cookies and 2 pounds of fudge. It's very difficult kneading cookie dough with one hand, I didn't want to risk pulling the injured nail off as it wiggles, ewwww, but I managed quite well. I even had time to slice the left over ham to freeze for later use.
I am currently sitting in Mike's recliner (I do that when he's at work. I feel quite rebellious!) sipping a well earned Cosmopolitan, and contemplating tomorrow's tasks. I have sugar cookies to make, and the icing for them to make as well. I also have to finish getting the house ready for my future mother-in-law's Christmas visit. We will also have a house full the Monday after Christmas for the Saint's Monday Night Football extravaganza. I am making a HUGE pot of shrimp and andoulle sausage gumbo for that.
My kids are currently upstairs, and being quiet. Thank god they stopped quarreling over the damn Wii. Perhaps the fact that I threatened to yank the thing out of the wall, and roll over it with the car, was a help. I don't know, and I'm not looking too much into it. No, I shall treasure the peace while it lasts.
I think that I will make the kids clean up the back yard tomorrow.
I digress.
Today was the day that I finally did almost all of the baking that I didn't get to the other day. This almost came to naught as well, when I managed to pinch a finger in my folding step stool, which I was deploying in search of powdered sugar. Long story short, I managed to break my solar nail clear down to the quick of my finger, in the middle of the finger. It hurt like hell and bled too. The nail salon told me to come back after Christmas for a repair to give the skin of my nail bed time to heal. I am so looking forward to the repair. I hope that a liberal amount of super glue will be all that is required for the repair, and not the removal of my nail. I know that would hurt. Badly.
As for the baking, I made peanut butter cookies, chocolate chip cookies, thumb print cookies and 2 pounds of fudge. It's very difficult kneading cookie dough with one hand, I didn't want to risk pulling the injured nail off as it wiggles, ewwww, but I managed quite well. I even had time to slice the left over ham to freeze for later use.
I am currently sitting in Mike's recliner (I do that when he's at work. I feel quite rebellious!) sipping a well earned Cosmopolitan, and contemplating tomorrow's tasks. I have sugar cookies to make, and the icing for them to make as well. I also have to finish getting the house ready for my future mother-in-law's Christmas visit. We will also have a house full the Monday after Christmas for the Saint's Monday Night Football extravaganza. I am making a HUGE pot of shrimp and andoulle sausage gumbo for that.
My kids are currently upstairs, and being quiet. Thank god they stopped quarreling over the damn Wii. Perhaps the fact that I threatened to yank the thing out of the wall, and roll over it with the car, was a help. I don't know, and I'm not looking too much into it. No, I shall treasure the peace while it lasts.
I think that I will make the kids clean up the back yard tomorrow.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
New Years Resolutions....
This year has flown by for me! I can't believe it's almost over.
A lot has happened to me this year, the biggie being I went back to school to study nursing. Made the dean's honors list, too!
So as the end of 2011 approaches, I have been contemplating changes that I need to make in my life and around the house. Most of these will make it easier to be a mom to 2 teenagers, a supportive fiancee to Mike and still make honors in school.
Did I mention that the wedding is in August?
So, here is a list of things that I am doing in 2012...
1. January 2, 2012; inventory all of the pantry and the two freezers. I will also inventory the stockpile in the garage and organize everything.
I need to know what I have so that I can shop for groceries more effectively. With the stock pile I have built now, I haven't had to grocery shop for anything except fresh produce, bread, milk and eggs for about a month now. I did buy a HUGE ham this week. It was .99 a pound, and I couldn't pass it up. It was baked yesterday, we had some for dinner last night and I am cutting it up to freeze for meals tonight.
2. Make the bouquets for me and my bridesmaids. Hobby Lobby often puts stems of calla lilies on sale for half off. These faux flowers look and feel real...they are $5.00 a stem. I will buy them at half off when they go on sale and make my own arrangements.
3. I will try Once A Week Cooking. From every thing I've read, this might make my life a bit easier in as much as all I will have to do is pull dinner out of the fridge or freezer and voila! All that I will need to do is take care of the sides.
4. I will Christmas shop throughout the year. We have good intentions when it comes to a budget, but we always go over. NO MORE. I am a savvy grocery shopper, and if I apply this savviness to Christmas, Birthdays etc, we should do well. Since Mike and I have a wedding to pay for, this will be really helpful.
5. I will do the favors for the wedding. I've decided that personalized M&M's are the way to go. When the favor tins go on sale for half off, I can stock up.
6. I will NOT add anymore people to the wedding guest list!!!!!! 200 people is quite enough, thank you very much!
7. I will expand my vegetable and fruit garden this spring. So far, so good with what I have planted so far, so why not expand it. Fresh produce is better for us anyway.
8. I am refining my housekeeping schedule. It's pretty good now, but it can be improved upon. My biggest pet peeve is the DAMN PET HAIR and the DAMN DUST!!!! Oh, and the CLUTTER that keeps accumulating on this one counter in the kitchen. GAH! It drives me nuts!
9. This falls in with the pantry inventory, I am re-organizing the pantry too. The above mentioned counter and cabinets in the kitchen will be used for lesser used items. The cabinets are in between the pantry and the fridge. I don't do prep work on this counter. Theoretically, it's supposed to function as my command-ops center where I keep the calendar, laptop etc. Maybe if I get all mean mom about it, the clutter will stop gathering there. WHO AM I KIDDING?
10. I am NOT going to lose weight...I am rather going to shape up what I have. I am, shockingly happy with what I weigh, I'm just not happy with the flabby parts. Gravity after 40 is a bitch.
11. I am going to have an AWESOME wedding. People will speak of it in the decades to come, it will be that awesome, and I am going to do it for LESS THAN $12K.
12. I am going to finish redecorating the master bedroom. I only have some touch ups to do, and I have to stain the furniture. I have everything I need, except the stain. I just have to do it! It shall be done BY THE END OF MARCH!!!
13. I will complete all of my prerequisites for nursing school this year. I will make dean's honors every semester.
14. I will blog more. The adventures of a 40 something in college with a ton of 20 somethings. It should be interesting if this first semester was any indication.
That's it for now. I'm sure that I will come up with more, though. I've always been an over achiever.
A lot has happened to me this year, the biggie being I went back to school to study nursing. Made the dean's honors list, too!
So as the end of 2011 approaches, I have been contemplating changes that I need to make in my life and around the house. Most of these will make it easier to be a mom to 2 teenagers, a supportive fiancee to Mike and still make honors in school.
Did I mention that the wedding is in August?
So, here is a list of things that I am doing in 2012...
1. January 2, 2012; inventory all of the pantry and the two freezers. I will also inventory the stockpile in the garage and organize everything.
I need to know what I have so that I can shop for groceries more effectively. With the stock pile I have built now, I haven't had to grocery shop for anything except fresh produce, bread, milk and eggs for about a month now. I did buy a HUGE ham this week. It was .99 a pound, and I couldn't pass it up. It was baked yesterday, we had some for dinner last night and I am cutting it up to freeze for meals tonight.
2. Make the bouquets for me and my bridesmaids. Hobby Lobby often puts stems of calla lilies on sale for half off. These faux flowers look and feel real...they are $5.00 a stem. I will buy them at half off when they go on sale and make my own arrangements.
3. I will try Once A Week Cooking. From every thing I've read, this might make my life a bit easier in as much as all I will have to do is pull dinner out of the fridge or freezer and voila! All that I will need to do is take care of the sides.
4. I will Christmas shop throughout the year. We have good intentions when it comes to a budget, but we always go over. NO MORE. I am a savvy grocery shopper, and if I apply this savviness to Christmas, Birthdays etc, we should do well. Since Mike and I have a wedding to pay for, this will be really helpful.
5. I will do the favors for the wedding. I've decided that personalized M&M's are the way to go. When the favor tins go on sale for half off, I can stock up.
6. I will NOT add anymore people to the wedding guest list!!!!!! 200 people is quite enough, thank you very much!
7. I will expand my vegetable and fruit garden this spring. So far, so good with what I have planted so far, so why not expand it. Fresh produce is better for us anyway.
8. I am refining my housekeeping schedule. It's pretty good now, but it can be improved upon. My biggest pet peeve is the DAMN PET HAIR and the DAMN DUST!!!! Oh, and the CLUTTER that keeps accumulating on this one counter in the kitchen. GAH! It drives me nuts!
9. This falls in with the pantry inventory, I am re-organizing the pantry too. The above mentioned counter and cabinets in the kitchen will be used for lesser used items. The cabinets are in between the pantry and the fridge. I don't do prep work on this counter. Theoretically, it's supposed to function as my command-ops center where I keep the calendar, laptop etc. Maybe if I get all mean mom about it, the clutter will stop gathering there. WHO AM I KIDDING?
10. I am NOT going to lose weight...I am rather going to shape up what I have. I am, shockingly happy with what I weigh, I'm just not happy with the flabby parts. Gravity after 40 is a bitch.
11. I am going to have an AWESOME wedding. People will speak of it in the decades to come, it will be that awesome, and I am going to do it for LESS THAN $12K.
12. I am going to finish redecorating the master bedroom. I only have some touch ups to do, and I have to stain the furniture. I have everything I need, except the stain. I just have to do it! It shall be done BY THE END OF MARCH!!!
13. I will complete all of my prerequisites for nursing school this year. I will make dean's honors every semester.
14. I will blog more. The adventures of a 40 something in college with a ton of 20 somethings. It should be interesting if this first semester was any indication.
That's it for now. I'm sure that I will come up with more, though. I've always been an over achiever.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Reproduction...
I don't know if it's a midlife crisis, or the fact that I am totally in love with my husband (albeit not churched, yet), but for the last year or so I've had this rather insane urge to have another baby.
Which is nearly impossible, seeing as I had my tubes tied several years ago when I thought that I was done with the whole child-bearing thing. I say nearly, because science is a wonderful thing, and I know that I can harvest eggs till the cows come home. If we can get past the whole impersonal side of invitro (ie: me on a table in stirrups and Mike in a dark room with the latest copy of Hustler or Playboy), then great! Then again there is no way to pre-implantation screen for Downs Syndrome and other things prior to fertilization and implantation. I believe that life begins at fertilization, and don't think that I could choose to toss away an imperfect life.
At the risk of seeming to be selfish or shallow, I don't want a baby with Downs or other imperfections. I want a life with Mike after retirement...yet I know that the risk of having a Downs baby at my age is great. Sarah Palin has a beautiful son with Downs...but she is her and I am me. I know my limitations.
Yet, there is nothing more that would give me pleasure than to give Mike a son or daughter. There is nothing I want more than to make a child with him. He is so incredible, in spite of his faults, and he'd be a wonderful father. He is to my girls...a son would take the cake in my eyes.
So, since I don't want to risk a bad pregnancy, or even go to the expense of invitro, I'm thinking adoption.
Maybe after I finish Nursing school.
There are so many unwanted, unplanned for babies in this world. I have a friend who has adopted 2 boys from unfit mothers. Their lives are so much better now, their potential is incredible.
This is something that I, no we, have to seriously consider. Babies change everything. I mean EVERYTHING. I have had 2...I know this.
Yet the thought of sleepless nights, diapers, formula and all daunt me not, for there is nothing that I've ever experienced that is more fulfilling to my soul than a baby. The loving, nurturing and caring for a new life. Being a mother is the most incredible thing I have ever done with my life.
I am pretty sure I want to do it again....I know that I want to share it with Mike.
I know that it's something that I need to pray over.
Which is nearly impossible, seeing as I had my tubes tied several years ago when I thought that I was done with the whole child-bearing thing. I say nearly, because science is a wonderful thing, and I know that I can harvest eggs till the cows come home. If we can get past the whole impersonal side of invitro (ie: me on a table in stirrups and Mike in a dark room with the latest copy of Hustler or Playboy), then great! Then again there is no way to pre-implantation screen for Downs Syndrome and other things prior to fertilization and implantation. I believe that life begins at fertilization, and don't think that I could choose to toss away an imperfect life.
At the risk of seeming to be selfish or shallow, I don't want a baby with Downs or other imperfections. I want a life with Mike after retirement...yet I know that the risk of having a Downs baby at my age is great. Sarah Palin has a beautiful son with Downs...but she is her and I am me. I know my limitations.
Yet, there is nothing more that would give me pleasure than to give Mike a son or daughter. There is nothing I want more than to make a child with him. He is so incredible, in spite of his faults, and he'd be a wonderful father. He is to my girls...a son would take the cake in my eyes.
So, since I don't want to risk a bad pregnancy, or even go to the expense of invitro, I'm thinking adoption.
Maybe after I finish Nursing school.
There are so many unwanted, unplanned for babies in this world. I have a friend who has adopted 2 boys from unfit mothers. Their lives are so much better now, their potential is incredible.
This is something that I, no we, have to seriously consider. Babies change everything. I mean EVERYTHING. I have had 2...I know this.
Yet the thought of sleepless nights, diapers, formula and all daunt me not, for there is nothing that I've ever experienced that is more fulfilling to my soul than a baby. The loving, nurturing and caring for a new life. Being a mother is the most incredible thing I have ever done with my life.
I am pretty sure I want to do it again....I know that I want to share it with Mike.
I know that it's something that I need to pray over.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Vacation....
I was going to write a long post on the trip Mike and I took recently, but I decided to forgo the post...there are simply times when a paucity of words are better than a deluge..
On July 14 Mike and I departed our home and went to New Orleans, where we met up with friends to ride to the Blue Knights International, which was taking place in Chesapeake VA. In 12 days we covered 4073 miles and saw places that I've never seen before. Aside from the fact that I got heat sick in Delaware, thus missing a chance to go to New Jersey, the trip was awesome....some of the memorable places we hit were:
Yorktown, Jamestown Settlement, The Outer Banks, Kill Devil Hills, Gettysburg, the Appalachian Trace and other sites. We saw the beauty of the valleys in Pennsylvania, mist filled with farms and barns with red silos rising out of the mists. Fields of corn, wild dogs, roads that twisted through mountains following streams. We crossed Chesapeake Bay, a beautiful, glistening body of water and sandy shores. We met friendly people, helpful and concerned...not mindful of the puddle of water I left on their floor when Cherie and Jason and Mike saved me from heat stroke...(it's shocking how fast ice melts on hot flesh!)
When one grows up in the South, one hears about the brusqueness of Northerners, but the one;s we met were all politeness! Annapolis is a beautiful, friendly town...a perfect stranger puled up along side Mike and I at a stop light and raved about Texas..we raved about Maryland.
The food was to DIE for, those little country diners where one can get a proper breakfast for less than $10 a couple...I'm talking eggs, bacon, biscuits and gravy with coffee and juice...the whole nine yards. The accents were cool too.
The most memorable part of the trip for me was Kill Devil Hills and the Wright Brother's Memorial.
Space flight and the exploration of space has always fascinated me. I remember watching Neil Armstrong take his first steps on the Moon...even though I was 2 at the time. There are some things that one never forgets. I suppose that I get this love from my dad, as he's always been a fan of NASA and space exploration.
So, the chance to see where it all began, Kill Devil Hills, was something I couldn't pass up. You see if it weren't for The Wright Brothers, we'd have never made it to the moon when we did.
Think about this...it was ONLY 66 years from the first flight to the first landing on the moon....such a scant amount of time, especially when one considers that the Dark Ages lasted for about a 1000 years and the Industrial Revolution took place roughly 100 or so years prior to the first flight...not even that long if I am correct.
We went from horse and carriage to space in about a century, and man has occupied this planet for thousands, no, hundreds of thousands of years before this.
So naturally I geeked out!
I walked the length of Wilbur and Orville's first 4 fights! On the very same spot! The very spot that changed the world...the very world we live in.
The progression of what we saw isn't lost on me...we went from Jamestown to Yorktown...that final battle that gained our independence from England, making us the nation we are now, to the very site that launched humans into the air. That led to humans into space...it was, and is so damn awe inspiring.
This trip really brought home to me what a great nation I am blessed enough to live in. The very founding principles of this country unleashed the potential of human intelligence and creativity into this world. The freedoms we have enabled men like the Wright Brothers to pursue their dream. The freedoms we enjoy, and take for granted, have led to the improvement of lives all over the world, whether through efficient farming techniques or through advances in medical science.
We are that beacon on the hill...calling others who desire the freedom that is God given to our shores...
Most of all, this trip reinforced the love I have for my country. It bolstered the faith I have in Humanity...when a man, or woman is free to pursue their dreams, anything is possible. Anything. Governments can try to suppress the human spirit, but they can never kill it. God designed us to dream, to achieve.
That is the Human condition. That is our destiny....to be that shining beacon on the hill. We may have to go through rough patches, but those patches are the test of one's spirit, one's determination...it does take fire to forge the strongest metal.
On July 14 Mike and I departed our home and went to New Orleans, where we met up with friends to ride to the Blue Knights International, which was taking place in Chesapeake VA. In 12 days we covered 4073 miles and saw places that I've never seen before. Aside from the fact that I got heat sick in Delaware, thus missing a chance to go to New Jersey, the trip was awesome....some of the memorable places we hit were:
Yorktown, Jamestown Settlement, The Outer Banks, Kill Devil Hills, Gettysburg, the Appalachian Trace and other sites. We saw the beauty of the valleys in Pennsylvania, mist filled with farms and barns with red silos rising out of the mists. Fields of corn, wild dogs, roads that twisted through mountains following streams. We crossed Chesapeake Bay, a beautiful, glistening body of water and sandy shores. We met friendly people, helpful and concerned...not mindful of the puddle of water I left on their floor when Cherie and Jason and Mike saved me from heat stroke...(it's shocking how fast ice melts on hot flesh!)
When one grows up in the South, one hears about the brusqueness of Northerners, but the one;s we met were all politeness! Annapolis is a beautiful, friendly town...a perfect stranger puled up along side Mike and I at a stop light and raved about Texas..we raved about Maryland.
The food was to DIE for, those little country diners where one can get a proper breakfast for less than $10 a couple...I'm talking eggs, bacon, biscuits and gravy with coffee and juice...the whole nine yards. The accents were cool too.
The most memorable part of the trip for me was Kill Devil Hills and the Wright Brother's Memorial.
Space flight and the exploration of space has always fascinated me. I remember watching Neil Armstrong take his first steps on the Moon...even though I was 2 at the time. There are some things that one never forgets. I suppose that I get this love from my dad, as he's always been a fan of NASA and space exploration.
So, the chance to see where it all began, Kill Devil Hills, was something I couldn't pass up. You see if it weren't for The Wright Brothers, we'd have never made it to the moon when we did.
Think about this...it was ONLY 66 years from the first flight to the first landing on the moon....such a scant amount of time, especially when one considers that the Dark Ages lasted for about a 1000 years and the Industrial Revolution took place roughly 100 or so years prior to the first flight...not even that long if I am correct.
We went from horse and carriage to space in about a century, and man has occupied this planet for thousands, no, hundreds of thousands of years before this.
So naturally I geeked out!
I walked the length of Wilbur and Orville's first 4 fights! On the very same spot! The very spot that changed the world...the very world we live in.
The progression of what we saw isn't lost on me...we went from Jamestown to Yorktown...that final battle that gained our independence from England, making us the nation we are now, to the very site that launched humans into the air. That led to humans into space...it was, and is so damn awe inspiring.
This trip really brought home to me what a great nation I am blessed enough to live in. The very founding principles of this country unleashed the potential of human intelligence and creativity into this world. The freedoms we have enabled men like the Wright Brothers to pursue their dream. The freedoms we enjoy, and take for granted, have led to the improvement of lives all over the world, whether through efficient farming techniques or through advances in medical science.
We are that beacon on the hill...calling others who desire the freedom that is God given to our shores...
Most of all, this trip reinforced the love I have for my country. It bolstered the faith I have in Humanity...when a man, or woman is free to pursue their dreams, anything is possible. Anything. Governments can try to suppress the human spirit, but they can never kill it. God designed us to dream, to achieve.
That is the Human condition. That is our destiny....to be that shining beacon on the hill. We may have to go through rough patches, but those patches are the test of one's spirit, one's determination...it does take fire to forge the strongest metal.
The First Beaux
My 16 year old daughter has a beau...he's 16 like she is, and has had a crush on her since October. He only started making courting gestures last month.
Tonight he came over so that we could meet him, and Mike and I also got to meet his parents. He's a nice guy, who reminds me in so many ways, of my first boyfriend. Tall, dark and nerdy. He also plays guitar and cello. Is into greek mythology and thinks that Mars is ripe for terraforming...and he's polite!
The dog likes him too, so that's a plus.
I confess that I am really not ready for my daughter to be dating...she's only 16! I now know how my parents felt...to me she is still that little babe I held in my arms and fed, not this gorgeous, intelligent creature with a knockout bod....
I am drawn back to my youth, when I was a bit younger, and this boy who was the first to claim my heart. I had my first kiss at a dance in middle school...and I can say, that to this date, it was the sweetest, most incredible kiss I've ever had.
I mean no offense to my Mike, none at all, but there is something about that first kiss that renders it the best. It's the breathless excitement of the unknown...chaste yet scintillating; it's something a girl (and I suspect a boy) never forgets. That shiver down the spine, the reward of many a nervous thought, action and dream. That tingle in the toes ( and other parts, naughty!) the feeling that one can fly. The trembles, the sighs....oh to be that innocent again!
What heaven that first kiss was!
What bliss that first touch of a strong set of hands about one's waist. The clean smell of his skin, and the breathless nervousness of it all. It was so pure, yet so decadent. The memory is so sweet! It makes my heart pound even to this day!
I want that for my daughter, yet I don't. I want her to feel that swooping of the stomach, the taste of that first kiss on her lips....but I also want to kill the SOB that dares tread that territory.
I am a parent...oh my god....this is hellish and also delightful. It's so hard to put into words...I am happy and sad. I know how may parent's felt. It's just as bad as being an adolescent all over again, only this time, when her heart gets broken it will be two of us suffering. We have reached that fork, that beginning of the road that will lead her away from me and to her own destiny.
It is incredible. It's scary. It's wonderful, yet heartbreaking to behold.
Yet, I wouldn't trade this for all of the world.
Tonight he came over so that we could meet him, and Mike and I also got to meet his parents. He's a nice guy, who reminds me in so many ways, of my first boyfriend. Tall, dark and nerdy. He also plays guitar and cello. Is into greek mythology and thinks that Mars is ripe for terraforming...and he's polite!
The dog likes him too, so that's a plus.
I confess that I am really not ready for my daughter to be dating...she's only 16! I now know how my parents felt...to me she is still that little babe I held in my arms and fed, not this gorgeous, intelligent creature with a knockout bod....
I am drawn back to my youth, when I was a bit younger, and this boy who was the first to claim my heart. I had my first kiss at a dance in middle school...and I can say, that to this date, it was the sweetest, most incredible kiss I've ever had.
I mean no offense to my Mike, none at all, but there is something about that first kiss that renders it the best. It's the breathless excitement of the unknown...chaste yet scintillating; it's something a girl (and I suspect a boy) never forgets. That shiver down the spine, the reward of many a nervous thought, action and dream. That tingle in the toes ( and other parts, naughty!) the feeling that one can fly. The trembles, the sighs....oh to be that innocent again!
What heaven that first kiss was!
What bliss that first touch of a strong set of hands about one's waist. The clean smell of his skin, and the breathless nervousness of it all. It was so pure, yet so decadent. The memory is so sweet! It makes my heart pound even to this day!
I want that for my daughter, yet I don't. I want her to feel that swooping of the stomach, the taste of that first kiss on her lips....but I also want to kill the SOB that dares tread that territory.
I am a parent...oh my god....this is hellish and also delightful. It's so hard to put into words...I am happy and sad. I know how may parent's felt. It's just as bad as being an adolescent all over again, only this time, when her heart gets broken it will be two of us suffering. We have reached that fork, that beginning of the road that will lead her away from me and to her own destiny.
It is incredible. It's scary. It's wonderful, yet heartbreaking to behold.
Yet, I wouldn't trade this for all of the world.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Riding, Crosswinds and Summer Weight Jackets
In about 3 weeks, Mike and I depart for a ride to Norfolk, via the back roads. We will be attending the Blue Knights International, and will be riding with Jason, Cherie and a friend of theirs. This is our second "long" trip, last year's being a ride to the Ozark's and the adventure that was Mount Nebo.
I am so looking forward to this trip, two weeks away from home, the kids and reality. Two weeks of living with 3 pairs of jeans (1 on, 2 packed) 5 t-shirts, 5 pair undies, 3 pair socks, the basics in as far as hygiene and NO MAKE UP!!!! It's also a test of one's relationship with others, ie: spouse and friends. Especially when it's hot as hell and a day's ride is 400 or so miles per day.
Last year's trip was our first together and it came at the mid point of our new relationship, meaning we were exclusively dating, but hadn't yet decided that we were ready to make it permanent. A lot of things can go wrong when travelling together, especially on a motorcycle and most especially into uncharted territory, so a test it was. Happily, Mike passed with flying colors as did I, since we are now a happy couple planning our "official" nuptuals.
Today we took a trip to Austin, so that I could get my military I.D. It was also a test run for my new summer weight, mesh riding jacket.
The day started off well, sunny and warm. The jacket was awesome, but the cross winds were suckish. I don't like cross winds, seeing as I am a new rider and crashed my bike on Good Friday because I panicked in strong cross winds. That aside, Mike rode well and even coached me on HOW to handle the cross winds, so that when I make my distance solo (to San Antonio and back) I won't crash my bike.
We made it to Camp Mabry, got my I.D. and then I got to discover the joys of the PX. Mike got a bottle of lovely scotch and I got a bottle of Chanel perfume at a KNOCKDOWN price.
Now, we are home, my butt is sore and I am feeling quite satisfied. The Mojito I am currently drinking is lovely and I am trying to figure out how to travel with mojito mix and rum on the July trip, whilst not taking up precious space in the saddle bags.
July will be fun...a long trip, but fun. Our new seat (an air seat with adjustable bladders for comfort) will be in this week, the route is planned and I will ride through states I've never been too before (Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, etc.). I expect to return sunburned, relaxed and renewed.
I am so looking forward to this trip, two weeks away from home, the kids and reality. Two weeks of living with 3 pairs of jeans (1 on, 2 packed) 5 t-shirts, 5 pair undies, 3 pair socks, the basics in as far as hygiene and NO MAKE UP!!!! It's also a test of one's relationship with others, ie: spouse and friends. Especially when it's hot as hell and a day's ride is 400 or so miles per day.
Last year's trip was our first together and it came at the mid point of our new relationship, meaning we were exclusively dating, but hadn't yet decided that we were ready to make it permanent. A lot of things can go wrong when travelling together, especially on a motorcycle and most especially into uncharted territory, so a test it was. Happily, Mike passed with flying colors as did I, since we are now a happy couple planning our "official" nuptuals.
Today we took a trip to Austin, so that I could get my military I.D. It was also a test run for my new summer weight, mesh riding jacket.
The day started off well, sunny and warm. The jacket was awesome, but the cross winds were suckish. I don't like cross winds, seeing as I am a new rider and crashed my bike on Good Friday because I panicked in strong cross winds. That aside, Mike rode well and even coached me on HOW to handle the cross winds, so that when I make my distance solo (to San Antonio and back) I won't crash my bike.
We made it to Camp Mabry, got my I.D. and then I got to discover the joys of the PX. Mike got a bottle of lovely scotch and I got a bottle of Chanel perfume at a KNOCKDOWN price.
Now, we are home, my butt is sore and I am feeling quite satisfied. The Mojito I am currently drinking is lovely and I am trying to figure out how to travel with mojito mix and rum on the July trip, whilst not taking up precious space in the saddle bags.
July will be fun...a long trip, but fun. Our new seat (an air seat with adjustable bladders for comfort) will be in this week, the route is planned and I will ride through states I've never been too before (Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, etc.). I expect to return sunburned, relaxed and renewed.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Ghost Rider and Fifth Wheels.
Restless today, and easily angered over trivial crap.
Also angered over not so trivial crap, as in mom informed me today that she hasn't been doing her PT and upper body exercises like she is supposed to be doing, and as a result is weaker now. Understand, she is bed bound, and so every bit of exercise counts!
I'm just ticked off. Why am I doing this every day, if mom isn't going to do her part? All this is going to do is affect how long she is in PT after the replacement on Monday...the weaker she is, the longer it will take for her to get up on her feet and for me to get my life back.
It is what it is, but I'm tired of it being this way. I miss my mornings with Mike, having breakfast with him and hanging out before he goes to work. After the kids go off to school, we generally have the house to ourselves and we just hang, or do chores or run errands. I miss that. I miss it a lot.
I am reading Neil Peart's "Ghost Rider", which I bought yesterday at the Kindle store. I am 3/4 of the way through it, even stopping to make notes (Kindle is cool like that, you can make notes and highlight portions etc. Awesome) on passages that have meaning to me. There have been times where I've shed tears for him and the pain, the unimaginable pain, that he suffered.
Even though my suffering and grief over certain parts of my past, like the break up of my and Adele's father's relationship, watching my grandfather suffer and then being the one he asked permission from to die, having to tell and hear my mother about the death of him, watching my ex-mother-in-law die and having to tell my then husband that his mother wasn't going to live past the weekend, and a myriad of other things; I understood and understand his pain. His need to get away and to just keep moving.
There are times when I wanted to chuck it all and just go away for a while. To just get into the car and drive, to put miles behind me and to think. There is one passage, in particular, that spoke to me. Or, I should say, had me nodding in total understanding..." For some reason, as part of that grief work it also seemed necessary for me to replay every single incident of my own life....Every embarrassment, act of foolishness, wrong-headedness, error, idiocy etc. going back to childhood and all the way forward to now. I physically flinch, say "ow" out loud, or "fuck" as the case may be, and can hardly bear it. "
I sill do that, although to a smaller extent, than I did in the darkest days of my breakdown. I caught myself doing this over the weekend, as I sat on Jason's sofa, head thrown back and listening to Moving Pictures, the remastered, awesome assed, super duper digital version.
He had been kind enough to squire me about in search of a summer weight riding jacket, and now, as I lolled about on a hot afternoon, he was helping Cherie unload the car of groceries. I heard both the music and their interaction, sensing the comfortable flow that they have together and I suddenly felt like a fifth wheel. Red Barchetta had me, for some reason, thinking about a stupid incident in Middle School that involved me getting a hickey from John Quigley and being stupid enough to try to hide it under make up.
I hadn't thought about that in DECADES, yet the humiliation that I felt over the ensuing rumors that spread around our Peyton Place of a school, still burned after all of this time. Foolish? Yes, in the big picture, but still hurtful none the less to that insecure, awkward geek that still lives under my skin.
These memories distracted me from the music, and shattered the peace I was feeling in that lovely living room, with it's high ceiling and cool, villa-like vibe. So, I got up and said good-bye, still feeling like a fifth wheel and wanting to flee as fast as I could. They are both so busy (he's a cop, she's a nurse) so I know how valuable "alone time" is and I felt like I was cutting in on that.
I had fun at Laser Tag with Kevin, Tedd, Mike and the gang, but I was more reserved than I normally am, or at least I felt that way at times. The later it got the quieter I got, yet still couldn't sleep once I got back to my hotel. I slept, eventually, but I can't shake this angry lassitude that followed me back from New Orleans. I know that I've reached my tipping point, yet I cannot bring myself to tip over...duty and honor compel me to suck it up and carry on, but it's so fucking exhausting!
I am sitting on the patio as I write this, looking at the lawn and it needs to be cut. So does the front, actually. I guess Mike will do it tomorrow, or the next day. He works so hard, so I don't want to complain about it. I also don't want a bitchy tome from the homeowners association. I'd cut it myself, but it's too damn hot, even at this late hour (it's 8:15pm here and the sun is just setting) also, I can't be arsed enough to do it. If only the mower were self propelled, then I could make Katie do it. A cut lawn isn't worth having to listen to her bitch and moan about it, though.
To hell with it. I have naan and hummus in the fridge, I have a nice pinot grigio chilling as well...dinner calls.
Monday, June 13, 2011
I Shaved My Legs for This?
The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!
There is a reason why I hate the treadmill at the health club, or anywhere else for that matter. There is the fact that I feel like some lab rat in an intergalactic lab, being observed by some alien life form scientist, who takes a perverse interest in the tedium that humans suffer in the quest for fitness. (It is fortunate that the club doesn't offer those wheels that hamsters and the like run around to nowhere on; I'd go spare if I had to run on one of those.) This is how I think on those days when I consider the question posed to me by my Humanities teacher in my senior year, ie: what if we are just some speck of dust in the nose of a giant alien, and what if he sneezes?
I can also reference the ending to Men in Black, where, right before the credits roll we see an alien shooting, then picking up his marbles and sticking them in a bag. That sequence had me thinking for days on end and I eventually ended the pain of it all by drinking a pitcher of Margaritas and nursing a tequila hang over the next day. That can take your mind off of ANYTHING, even death.
Back to the treadmill thing. I have been on one for the last 7 months and I am most heartily sick unto death of it. Nothing has, thus far, turned out how I wanted it to when I decided to put my heart on the line again and eschew the whole Crazy Cat Lady Down the Street thing I was working on perfecting.
I love Mike, can't imagine not being with Mike. He isn't the issue. I am the issue, perhaps...no not perhaps, but not totally, either. It's hard to explain, my thoughts are so jumbled right now; it's as if this weekend's trip back home opened a straining floodgate and everything is rushing through in a torrent that I cannot control.
I am struggling with the intrinsic need to "honor" my parents, mom in particular, and the desire to also take care of Mike and the kids. He, after all, works his ass off to keep me "home", and since my job is to take care of the house and the running of it, I figure that I owe 100% percent to that effort. It's, also the kids who need my attention and have reveled in my being home in the morning to see them off to school, to make their lunches and to be home when they get home. I've loved it too, and quite to my surprise, found that I liked being an At Home Mom, doing chores and cooking and the like.
In all honesty, I think I spent the first 4 months of this new phase in my life in a state of shock or maybe disbelief...I had never imagined that my life would lead to this (which thoughts in and of themselves are to be thought about and debated internally later...my self esteem and all that). I mean, I actually CLEANED, hands and knees cleaned. I organized the pantry (an exercise in terror of there ever was one), the kitchen cabinets, I hung pictures and rearranged furniture. I watched cooking shows and tried new dishes and found that I liked the whole process of cooking, but most of all genuinely felt happy and proud that I had pleased Mike and the kids with my efforts.
Then mom had a knee replaced and fell at home and the nightmare started. As a result I have turned into a creature who no longer bothers to put on make-up, and only shaves in anticipation of sex.
What the fuck? Who am I and what has happened to the real Beth?
She is stuck on the treadmill from hell and the fucking alien scientists are laughing their green little asses off.
I have become something that I swore I'd never be, especially when I was a "liberated career woman and single mother who had it all". I looked upon these make-upless, messy haired, sloppy clothed women with infants and toddlers in tow and sneer. I was the mother who took her kid to the emergency room, but wore make-up, perfume and matched clothing. I remembered to bring a book and things to keep the healthy kid entertained, as opposed to bored and ill mannered. I reveled in the fact that I wasn't tied down and could take a lover if I wanted to. Mostly, I didn't take said lover because the kids and I had our nice little routine and I didn't want a man to disrupt that.
Isn't it funny how when the right guy comes along, the routine suddenly becomes unimportant and/or workable?
So, just when I was getting into the swing of the whole June Cleaver thing, mom falls and busts open her surgical site, setting off the proverbial domino effect. In a nut shell, she fell at home and busted the knee open, nearly bleeding to death. Then a few days later, this time in the hospital, she falls again and fucks the knee up once more. A month or so later, after inpatient rehab, she is sent home. A few days after that, the staples are removed to reveal a gaping wound that never closed up properly and off to the wound care specialist we go (happy Valentines Day!). Here I got the treat of watching the doctor probe the "tunneling" under my mothers leg, and charting his observations (when the doctors and nurses found out I was considering nursing school, they all wanted to educate me). The conclusion to this awful probing was that mom needed a debridement and a wound vac, but in the interim dad and I were in charge of keeping the leg clean. This process involved much saline solution, sanitary napkins and gauze. I can dress a wound quite well now.
Damned if things didn't get worse, because the day before her surgery to debride and apply the vac, she ends up in CCU and intubated, as she had developed pneumonia. I can't tell you how much it sucks to realize the fact that one's parents are mortal in such a manner. To be told that your mother would likely die is something I was ill prepared for, even though I sat next to her on a daily basis and watched the nurses do their work. After all, I had been with her since the first fall, going daily to the hospital to keep her company and advocate for her where it was needed. I had seen her struggle through physical therapy so that she could walk again, so I knew how determined she was to get better.
Blessedly, she remembers very little of that time, but it is seared in my memory forever. When I have the time I will have to seek therapy sessions to deal with it all, I refuse to repeat the year of 1996-1997 when I went through the deaths of family and friends, one after the other, and neglected myself so that I could help others. Never again.
As it stands now, mother has been bedridden since March. I have been in attendance since January and I am, as she is, heartily sick of it all.
Today, for some reason, has been the worst for me. I am so fucking tired of not having a life. I want my life back. I barely see Mike, I am so tired by the time I get home that I have no energy for cooking or cleaning, and the house looks like shit. The fact that the dog is losing his winter coat, and the cat has gone into one of her Emo phases, and is pulling her hair out by the chunk, isn't helping either. God I wish I had carpet, maybe that would make the hair not so noticeable as it is when it collects in the corners.
I still haven't gotten the mani/pedi Mike gave me for Valentines day(a day ruined by the visit to the wound care doctor, but at least the filet was good), because everytime I make the reservation, something comes up with mom and I have to cancel.
I am angry at mom. I can't stand the fact that I am, it's perverse in a way and pointless, but there it is. I'm angry at my sisters, because they have jobs and can't take care of her. I'm angry at myself for being angry at mom and my sisters. I'm just plain angry and sad. This is so fucked up. I can't even go to Ft. Hood to see my niece home from Afganistan.
I just want off of this particular treadmill. I want my life back, so that I can see where that will lead. Seven months of my life has just whizzed by me, one day the same as the day before. I hate it.
I hate that I resent it. I hate that I hate that I resent it, because it is what it is. I'm just sick of it all.
On Monday, mom gets her knee replaced, again...the odds of a rejection are high since she's had a major infection. I dare to hope that she will keep the knee and not have to have the bones fused together. We are both looking forward to the surgery, in a perverse way, even though it will start the whole cycle of pain and PT and misery over again. If she doesn't reject the knee, then perhaps things will eventually return to normal, but I can honestly say that I'm not holding my breath.
It's not that I don't want to be optimistic. I do, but thus far, the whole hope and prayer thing has been for naught.
I am open for surprise, though.
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!
There is a reason why I hate the treadmill at the health club, or anywhere else for that matter. There is the fact that I feel like some lab rat in an intergalactic lab, being observed by some alien life form scientist, who takes a perverse interest in the tedium that humans suffer in the quest for fitness. (It is fortunate that the club doesn't offer those wheels that hamsters and the like run around to nowhere on; I'd go spare if I had to run on one of those.) This is how I think on those days when I consider the question posed to me by my Humanities teacher in my senior year, ie: what if we are just some speck of dust in the nose of a giant alien, and what if he sneezes?
I can also reference the ending to Men in Black, where, right before the credits roll we see an alien shooting, then picking up his marbles and sticking them in a bag. That sequence had me thinking for days on end and I eventually ended the pain of it all by drinking a pitcher of Margaritas and nursing a tequila hang over the next day. That can take your mind off of ANYTHING, even death.
Back to the treadmill thing. I have been on one for the last 7 months and I am most heartily sick unto death of it. Nothing has, thus far, turned out how I wanted it to when I decided to put my heart on the line again and eschew the whole Crazy Cat Lady Down the Street thing I was working on perfecting.
I love Mike, can't imagine not being with Mike. He isn't the issue. I am the issue, perhaps...no not perhaps, but not totally, either. It's hard to explain, my thoughts are so jumbled right now; it's as if this weekend's trip back home opened a straining floodgate and everything is rushing through in a torrent that I cannot control.
I am struggling with the intrinsic need to "honor" my parents, mom in particular, and the desire to also take care of Mike and the kids. He, after all, works his ass off to keep me "home", and since my job is to take care of the house and the running of it, I figure that I owe 100% percent to that effort. It's, also the kids who need my attention and have reveled in my being home in the morning to see them off to school, to make their lunches and to be home when they get home. I've loved it too, and quite to my surprise, found that I liked being an At Home Mom, doing chores and cooking and the like.
In all honesty, I think I spent the first 4 months of this new phase in my life in a state of shock or maybe disbelief...I had never imagined that my life would lead to this (which thoughts in and of themselves are to be thought about and debated internally later...my self esteem and all that). I mean, I actually CLEANED, hands and knees cleaned. I organized the pantry (an exercise in terror of there ever was one), the kitchen cabinets, I hung pictures and rearranged furniture. I watched cooking shows and tried new dishes and found that I liked the whole process of cooking, but most of all genuinely felt happy and proud that I had pleased Mike and the kids with my efforts.
Then mom had a knee replaced and fell at home and the nightmare started. As a result I have turned into a creature who no longer bothers to put on make-up, and only shaves in anticipation of sex.
What the fuck? Who am I and what has happened to the real Beth?
She is stuck on the treadmill from hell and the fucking alien scientists are laughing their green little asses off.
I have become something that I swore I'd never be, especially when I was a "liberated career woman and single mother who had it all". I looked upon these make-upless, messy haired, sloppy clothed women with infants and toddlers in tow and sneer. I was the mother who took her kid to the emergency room, but wore make-up, perfume and matched clothing. I remembered to bring a book and things to keep the healthy kid entertained, as opposed to bored and ill mannered. I reveled in the fact that I wasn't tied down and could take a lover if I wanted to. Mostly, I didn't take said lover because the kids and I had our nice little routine and I didn't want a man to disrupt that.
Isn't it funny how when the right guy comes along, the routine suddenly becomes unimportant and/or workable?
So, just when I was getting into the swing of the whole June Cleaver thing, mom falls and busts open her surgical site, setting off the proverbial domino effect. In a nut shell, she fell at home and busted the knee open, nearly bleeding to death. Then a few days later, this time in the hospital, she falls again and fucks the knee up once more. A month or so later, after inpatient rehab, she is sent home. A few days after that, the staples are removed to reveal a gaping wound that never closed up properly and off to the wound care specialist we go (happy Valentines Day!). Here I got the treat of watching the doctor probe the "tunneling" under my mothers leg, and charting his observations (when the doctors and nurses found out I was considering nursing school, they all wanted to educate me). The conclusion to this awful probing was that mom needed a debridement and a wound vac, but in the interim dad and I were in charge of keeping the leg clean. This process involved much saline solution, sanitary napkins and gauze. I can dress a wound quite well now.
Damned if things didn't get worse, because the day before her surgery to debride and apply the vac, she ends up in CCU and intubated, as she had developed pneumonia. I can't tell you how much it sucks to realize the fact that one's parents are mortal in such a manner. To be told that your mother would likely die is something I was ill prepared for, even though I sat next to her on a daily basis and watched the nurses do their work. After all, I had been with her since the first fall, going daily to the hospital to keep her company and advocate for her where it was needed. I had seen her struggle through physical therapy so that she could walk again, so I knew how determined she was to get better.
Blessedly, she remembers very little of that time, but it is seared in my memory forever. When I have the time I will have to seek therapy sessions to deal with it all, I refuse to repeat the year of 1996-1997 when I went through the deaths of family and friends, one after the other, and neglected myself so that I could help others. Never again.
As it stands now, mother has been bedridden since March. I have been in attendance since January and I am, as she is, heartily sick of it all.
Today, for some reason, has been the worst for me. I am so fucking tired of not having a life. I want my life back. I barely see Mike, I am so tired by the time I get home that I have no energy for cooking or cleaning, and the house looks like shit. The fact that the dog is losing his winter coat, and the cat has gone into one of her Emo phases, and is pulling her hair out by the chunk, isn't helping either. God I wish I had carpet, maybe that would make the hair not so noticeable as it is when it collects in the corners.
I still haven't gotten the mani/pedi Mike gave me for Valentines day(a day ruined by the visit to the wound care doctor, but at least the filet was good), because everytime I make the reservation, something comes up with mom and I have to cancel.
I am angry at mom. I can't stand the fact that I am, it's perverse in a way and pointless, but there it is. I'm angry at my sisters, because they have jobs and can't take care of her. I'm angry at myself for being angry at mom and my sisters. I'm just plain angry and sad. This is so fucked up. I can't even go to Ft. Hood to see my niece home from Afganistan.
I just want off of this particular treadmill. I want my life back, so that I can see where that will lead. Seven months of my life has just whizzed by me, one day the same as the day before. I hate it.
I hate that I resent it. I hate that I hate that I resent it, because it is what it is. I'm just sick of it all.
On Monday, mom gets her knee replaced, again...the odds of a rejection are high since she's had a major infection. I dare to hope that she will keep the knee and not have to have the bones fused together. We are both looking forward to the surgery, in a perverse way, even though it will start the whole cycle of pain and PT and misery over again. If she doesn't reject the knee, then perhaps things will eventually return to normal, but I can honestly say that I'm not holding my breath.
It's not that I don't want to be optimistic. I do, but thus far, the whole hope and prayer thing has been for naught.
I am open for surprise, though.
While I Was Away...
The dog hair on the floor multiplied, bunny like, even though the dog was at the boarder's.
Mike missed having me next to him when he went to sleep.
The dust bunnies had an orgy and have now taken over every surface in the house. They also have established colonies under the entertainment center and the sofas.
And...Mike thinks his dick will fall off if he buys sanitary supplies for his step-daughter, so he gave her money and sent her into the store to buy her own. In fact he's so afraid of cross contamination, he let her keep the change.
Mike missed having me next to him when he went to sleep.
The dust bunnies had an orgy and have now taken over every surface in the house. They also have established colonies under the entertainment center and the sofas.
And...Mike thinks his dick will fall off if he buys sanitary supplies for his step-daughter, so he gave her money and sent her into the store to buy her own. In fact he's so afraid of cross contamination, he let her keep the change.
Poetry In Motion....
Where I attempt to write a Sonnet, in the Italian form, using lyrics from my favorite songs. This will be a work in progress, so any updates will be on the same post. Feedback is appreciated.... here are the first 2 lines.
The ebb and flow of tidal fortune
Pushing the day into the nighttime,
*Far Cry, Rush, Snakes and Arrows
Mad About You, Belinda Carlisle
The ebb and flow of tidal fortune
Pushing the day into the nighttime,
*Far Cry, Rush, Snakes and Arrows
Mad About You, Belinda Carlisle
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Reflections, Ruminations and Rush
I have travelled back to New Orleans, for a much needed break from real life, to see Rush in concert and to spend time with old friends. I have to admit, that as much as I miss Mike, the kids and my pets, it's nice to have quiet time and to not be awakened by the wet tongue of my dog on my face.
I've had a great sushi lunch with my best friend, Mary, and for dessert we engaged in a little retail therapy and drove around all of our old haunts. I still remember, with crystal clear clarity, the first time I went to her house so that we could get to know each other better. She was waiting outside, under a tree for me, so that mom could find the place. We had salad, giggled over how "fine" Harrison Ford was (and still is. Some men just age well, although I don't see what he see's in Calista, who reminds me of a bobble head doll.) and just had a ball. We became instant BFF's and we have been through many, many life changing events together. I honestly don't know what I would do with out Mary, she's seen me through so much.
During the ride we talked about wishing to go back, so we could do some things over, or not at all. For example, I'd have joined Color Guard sooner so that I could have made the trip to Ireland with the band, I would have rethought some crushes I had and I would have pursued my dream of singing in a band. I would spend more time with friends that we have now lost, like Jeff Sibley, and I would be more discerning about others.
I also would have invested in Apple and Microsoft.
All of that conversation yesterday stayed with me as I dropped her off at home and headed back to the hotel to change for the concert, and for the rest of the night and into this morning, I've found myself a bit more reflective than I normally am about my youth. There are huge swaths of those years that I'd rather forget, and some that I'd like to go back and see again; I always remember them with a smile and a few tears of nostalgia. Times were so simpler then.
Dinner was a lively affair, the ride to the arena with a bunch of us all packed into Jason's car (Daniel riding in the seatless back) reminded me of nighttime rides through City Park, jumping the bridges in Mary's car our cigarettes hitting and scorching the headliner, laughing so hard that we cried as we fell all over one another so tightly we were packed in.
Spending time with Jason and Kevin has been great, it always is. Tonight I am hoping to spend time with Tedd and Mike as well, that would be almost all of the old middle school gang together again. Middle School was, for me, the best period of my young years, even though at the start of that important time in between elementary and high school, didn't start off the way I remember wanting it to.
I was always an insecure kid for some reason. I have always felt awkward in my own skin. I still do sometimes. I remember being so excited about starting middle school. I talked mom into buying me clogs (which all of the popular girls wore) and designer jeans, just 1 pair and I got my first curing iron so that I could feather my hair. I remember walking into homeroom feeling unusually confident, only to end up feeling deflated when I saw that the cliques had carried over from elementary; cliques I'd never been a part of since I had only attended public school for 5th and 6th grades and so hadn't known any of those girls since kindergarden.
Then I met Jason, Kevin, Jennifer, Juan, Mike, Tedd and the rest of the gang; all a bit geeky like me, all with so many things in common with me. We were, in my humble opinion, the most creative and imaginative kids on campus. We still are, especially Kevin, Jason, Mike and Tedd. These men just bowl me over, the talent that the four of them possess.
One of my biggest regrets is that I lost touch with them after middle school. I was the only one in the group that ended up at a different high school, and that was because of where I lived. One street over and I'd have been with them; but after the first year or so of high school, we drifted apart. I remember being hurt over that, and I regret that back then I was too busy trying to be someone I wasn't, I didn't keep up with them.
Life rushed on.
Always searching to fill something that was missing, not knowing what that missing thing was, I strayed away from my dreams or I eschewed them all together, thinking that they were foolish or unattainable. Maybe they were, but I wouldn't know that now, I'm too busy trying to discover myself after all of these years. Depression is so insidious, I really didn't start growing up until my breakdown in 2003, and I am still growing up in a lot of ways.
Which brings me back to this weekend. It's not so much an ennui that I am feeling, or a nostalgia or even sadness. I don't think it's regret, either. It's a combination of all of these. As I write this I am crying, not over how things are now but over how things were. It's not just my 44 year-old self crying either; it's me all of those years ago as well. It's, as my counselor put it, my young self growing up and it's my present self forgiving her for not knowing any better; how could she know any better?
This weekend has surprised me, I wasn't expecting to have these feelings. I'm glad that I am, for years ago, in a different life, I would have repressed them and gone home bitter. I have to keep reminding myself, that I have Major Depressive Disorder and these things happen.
It's a mixed bag. My life up until now, has made me what I am today. Change one little thing and who knows how life would have turned out for me up until this point. I don't regret my children and if I could go back and change anything, then I wouldn't have them. I wouldn't have Mike in my life and I'm not sure that I'd be happy and well. My path was set at birth, and I don't know where it will lead, but I do know that it isn't too late to go back to school and finish my degree. I know that it isn't too late to try the things I wanted to do when I was younger, but was too afraid to do...like having a motorcycle or flying a private plane (I AM going to get my pilot's license!) or even writing, which I (foolishly) abandoned thinking that original ideas no longer existed and I sucked at it anyway. One of these days I will write about that three year period where my depression left me in darkness and my hard fought battle toward the light of normalcy (what ever normal is).
We all have regrets, things we would have done differently, but those choices, those steps off onto a branch on the road shape us into who we are. The magical thing about life is that you can change and that it's never too late to go for it, so to speak. Besides, if I could go back and change things, who's to say I'd be any happier? Perhaps I'd still be in the darkness, and I much prefer the light; even if I get all angsty at times and act like a teenager. I think it makes me a better parent to my daughters,who are in the midst of the horrible teen years. I can, at least, empathize with them and encourage them to pursue their dreams and to not hold themselves back out of fear.
No, this weekend has been good, though the regret over those lost years of growing up with my dearest friends is piercingly sad right now. The sadness will fade, the mourning will run it's course and I will have grown up a little more.
Life is good.
I've had a great sushi lunch with my best friend, Mary, and for dessert we engaged in a little retail therapy and drove around all of our old haunts. I still remember, with crystal clear clarity, the first time I went to her house so that we could get to know each other better. She was waiting outside, under a tree for me, so that mom could find the place. We had salad, giggled over how "fine" Harrison Ford was (and still is. Some men just age well, although I don't see what he see's in Calista, who reminds me of a bobble head doll.) and just had a ball. We became instant BFF's and we have been through many, many life changing events together. I honestly don't know what I would do with out Mary, she's seen me through so much.
During the ride we talked about wishing to go back, so we could do some things over, or not at all. For example, I'd have joined Color Guard sooner so that I could have made the trip to Ireland with the band, I would have rethought some crushes I had and I would have pursued my dream of singing in a band. I would spend more time with friends that we have now lost, like Jeff Sibley, and I would be more discerning about others.
I also would have invested in Apple and Microsoft.
All of that conversation yesterday stayed with me as I dropped her off at home and headed back to the hotel to change for the concert, and for the rest of the night and into this morning, I've found myself a bit more reflective than I normally am about my youth. There are huge swaths of those years that I'd rather forget, and some that I'd like to go back and see again; I always remember them with a smile and a few tears of nostalgia. Times were so simpler then.
Dinner was a lively affair, the ride to the arena with a bunch of us all packed into Jason's car (Daniel riding in the seatless back) reminded me of nighttime rides through City Park, jumping the bridges in Mary's car our cigarettes hitting and scorching the headliner, laughing so hard that we cried as we fell all over one another so tightly we were packed in.
Spending time with Jason and Kevin has been great, it always is. Tonight I am hoping to spend time with Tedd and Mike as well, that would be almost all of the old middle school gang together again. Middle School was, for me, the best period of my young years, even though at the start of that important time in between elementary and high school, didn't start off the way I remember wanting it to.
I was always an insecure kid for some reason. I have always felt awkward in my own skin. I still do sometimes. I remember being so excited about starting middle school. I talked mom into buying me clogs (which all of the popular girls wore) and designer jeans, just 1 pair and I got my first curing iron so that I could feather my hair. I remember walking into homeroom feeling unusually confident, only to end up feeling deflated when I saw that the cliques had carried over from elementary; cliques I'd never been a part of since I had only attended public school for 5th and 6th grades and so hadn't known any of those girls since kindergarden.
Then I met Jason, Kevin, Jennifer, Juan, Mike, Tedd and the rest of the gang; all a bit geeky like me, all with so many things in common with me. We were, in my humble opinion, the most creative and imaginative kids on campus. We still are, especially Kevin, Jason, Mike and Tedd. These men just bowl me over, the talent that the four of them possess.
One of my biggest regrets is that I lost touch with them after middle school. I was the only one in the group that ended up at a different high school, and that was because of where I lived. One street over and I'd have been with them; but after the first year or so of high school, we drifted apart. I remember being hurt over that, and I regret that back then I was too busy trying to be someone I wasn't, I didn't keep up with them.
Life rushed on.
Always searching to fill something that was missing, not knowing what that missing thing was, I strayed away from my dreams or I eschewed them all together, thinking that they were foolish or unattainable. Maybe they were, but I wouldn't know that now, I'm too busy trying to discover myself after all of these years. Depression is so insidious, I really didn't start growing up until my breakdown in 2003, and I am still growing up in a lot of ways.
Which brings me back to this weekend. It's not so much an ennui that I am feeling, or a nostalgia or even sadness. I don't think it's regret, either. It's a combination of all of these. As I write this I am crying, not over how things are now but over how things were. It's not just my 44 year-old self crying either; it's me all of those years ago as well. It's, as my counselor put it, my young self growing up and it's my present self forgiving her for not knowing any better; how could she know any better?
This weekend has surprised me, I wasn't expecting to have these feelings. I'm glad that I am, for years ago, in a different life, I would have repressed them and gone home bitter. I have to keep reminding myself, that I have Major Depressive Disorder and these things happen.
It's a mixed bag. My life up until now, has made me what I am today. Change one little thing and who knows how life would have turned out for me up until this point. I don't regret my children and if I could go back and change anything, then I wouldn't have them. I wouldn't have Mike in my life and I'm not sure that I'd be happy and well. My path was set at birth, and I don't know where it will lead, but I do know that it isn't too late to go back to school and finish my degree. I know that it isn't too late to try the things I wanted to do when I was younger, but was too afraid to do...like having a motorcycle or flying a private plane (I AM going to get my pilot's license!) or even writing, which I (foolishly) abandoned thinking that original ideas no longer existed and I sucked at it anyway. One of these days I will write about that three year period where my depression left me in darkness and my hard fought battle toward the light of normalcy (what ever normal is).
We all have regrets, things we would have done differently, but those choices, those steps off onto a branch on the road shape us into who we are. The magical thing about life is that you can change and that it's never too late to go for it, so to speak. Besides, if I could go back and change things, who's to say I'd be any happier? Perhaps I'd still be in the darkness, and I much prefer the light; even if I get all angsty at times and act like a teenager. I think it makes me a better parent to my daughters,who are in the midst of the horrible teen years. I can, at least, empathize with them and encourage them to pursue their dreams and to not hold themselves back out of fear.
No, this weekend has been good, though the regret over those lost years of growing up with my dearest friends is piercingly sad right now. The sadness will fade, the mourning will run it's course and I will have grown up a little more.
Life is good.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Lessons...
Earlier this year, once the routine of housewiffery set in and I discovered that I needed something to do besides sit at home and watch the Judge shows all day, whilst planning weekly menus, I decided that I wanted to further my education.
I don't have a college degree, and to be honest, I don't think that a 4 year university program is my cup of tea any way. I'm just not patient enough for the program; I am more of a hands on kind of girl. Testament to this would be my previous career as a Registered Sales Assistant. I had the honor of working with people and helping them plan for and save for their retirement. I held hands with widows and attended weddings and family events of clients I grew close to. I stumbled into the field purely by accident, thanks to a temp agency and the manager of a branch of Morgan Stanley who saw my potential. I loved my work, and was mostly happy with the men and women that I worked with. Sarah Whitmore, the afore mentioned manager, was an instrumental person in my life.
Some of the people I worked for were Type A assholes (you have to be a Type A to succeed in the brokerage business), but the vast majority were Type A awesome people, who also nurtured and mentored me. I made great friends with clients and bosses alike, and most of my bosses treated me with respect, and trusted me with their business. I never, ever, even with the asses I worked with, betrayed that trust. Some bridges should never be burned, and besides, it isn't in my nature to burn bridges.
When I met Mike, I was in a high position within the firm I worked for; a position earned through the dint of my hard work and integrity. Having smarts was a plus as well. So leaving the industry to become an at home mom was a hard decision. I was so used to working to support my girls, to provide a roof over our heads and food on the table. I actually came to terms with the fact that I would end up the "Crazy Cat Lady Down the Street" at some point in 2009, which is of course when I met Mike.
Talk about your whole world changing in the course of a few months!
I am not complaining, not by a long shot. To be honest, I wasn't sure that I'd like being a homemaker. I had never had the chance to do so, and I didn't know if I'd be cut out for it. Its harder than I thought it would be, and the fact that I used to sneer at homemakers, leaves me blushing for shame these days.
To put it simply, I never imagined this life...a life where the neighborhood kids come to swim in our pool, where I can make breakfast and see the kids off to school. I life where I can curl up next to the most comfortable partner I've ever had. A life with a cat and a puppy who makes us laugh. A life where I have someone besides my beloved daughters to kiss good night and kiss good morning. A home. I have a home.
Lesson One: God always has a plan for us.
Yet, I still have this yearning to do more. As if life weren't busy enough!
Part of the yearning comes from seeing how damn hard Mike works for us to have the traditional life style we have. I am still bowled over by him. My mother has been seriously ill since December and daddy has to work, so it's been me who has been at her bedside at the hospital, and at home; nursing her and tending to her. In all honesty, it's hard, running a house and taking care of her, but if not for Mike and his integrity or his priorities being right, I'd never be able to do this. My mother feels grateful for the sacrifices we make, but to me it isn't a sacrifice...it's a daughter's duty. One that I accept and do with pleasure, even when I see her suffer. I don't want a stranger taking care of her, yet there are so many situations like mine, where strangers take care of others loved ones, instead of family. In this day and age it cannot be helped. Things are the way they are, but the care taking that I've been doing, has fanned the long burning embers of something I wanted to do, but couldn't.
I want to be a nurse.
I have wanted to do this for quite a long time, but could never have done so as a good nursing program requires full time attendance, and I was a single mother with a house to support. Then, one day while perusing the want ad's for part time work, I noticed that there was a HUGE need for part time nurses, and thought that if I were a nurse I'd have no problems finding a job that didn't involve retail. I wanted to work part time, if anything to enable Mike to cut back on his OT...he's a cop and patrols and cops who patrol need to be rested. There were and are days when Mike walks out of the house with bags under his eyes that frighten me and make me want to cry, all of this so that I can be a good daughter to my mother and a mom to my girls.
He humbles me.
Well, the ad's for part time nurses, coupled with the things I've seen, done and learned in taking care of my mother, fanned that long banked flame of desire to nurse. So I've decided to go for it. I'm only 44 after all, not old, certainly still spry and in pretty good physical shape.
Once mom's doctors, and the nurses at the various hospitals she has been in, found out about my desire, they were more than willing to teach me, show me and answer questions. I've been amazed at the whole process, and along the way I've learned quite a few lessons. I've also narrowed down fields I want to specialize in.
For example: I have learned a bit about wound care in diabetic patients. I can clean and dress a wound while maintaining a sterile field. Did you know that you can use sanitary napkins for a dressing on a draining would, as they absorb so much? Neither did I, until a Doctor Nguyen taught me.
I have learned the finer details of a Portacath, how to maintain it via flushing, how to draw blood from it, how to remove and change the needle, which is an L shaped object and needs to go in just so.
I've learned the effects of certain narcotics and how tortuous Narcan is on a patient, but also how it saves lives. I've discovered that suctioning a patient is needed, even though watching one's mother suctioned is hard to see.
I've learned the finer points of intubation and also why Diprovan is called Milk of Amnesia.
I understand why Occupational Therapy and Physical Therapy is so very, very important for patients who are disabled like my mom.
I've learned about antibiotic resistant infections and calorie restricted diabetic diets.
I can prime new tubing for an IV on the first go, no air bubbles with me, no sir!
I can listen to a patient weep, or talk, in the darkest of hours. I can be there with them through the fear, the unknown; I don't offer advice, just the listening is enough.
I discovered that there are so many ways to take care of a person, small ways and large. I've seen the compassion, the genuine compassion and caring of good, no great, nurses toward my mother. Their devotion to their vocation is so inspiring!
These last 6 months have firmed my desire to go into this field.
It all started when my youngest was born, prematurely; weighing only 2 and 1/2 pounds. I saw the care the nurses gave to Adele, and that lit the spark. Mom's ordeal fanned the flames.
I know that I will make an awesome nurse. I will even be able to get past my gagging when other people vomit (it's my weakness, I can't handle puke!), if my desire is enough; and it is.
I know that I will be a good nurse because I have been at the bedside of my mother, who but for the Grace of God, was dying. I know what other families will or have been through, what they think. The helplessness, the prayers they pray.
I know how damn helpless a new mother with a premature child feels. Seeing the tubes, the isolette, the restrictions, the very labor that the baby goes through to survive.
I understand the helplessness of the patient, people who were mobile and active until illness stopped all of that; the impatience and the depression that they experience while lying in bed, unable to do for themselves. I get how they feel like they aren't in control of their lives anymore...like they are just lab rats and controlled by others.
I've lived it. Lived it several times. I understand and I want to bring that experience to my nursing. That compassion.
I am sure that I am idealizing. Nursing is gritty and dirty. My sister is an ER nurse, and the stories she tells are compelling or horrofying.
But, I want to take care of sick babies, or work in CCU.
Those are my desires, and perhaps they will change, but that is what I want to do right now. Just because I've seen both specialties and I know that I can bring, not only good nursing into it, but life experience. What I wouldn't have given for a NICU nurse to explain things to me, to just relay to me in any small way that she knew what I was going through...to empathize.
I believe that what I am experiencing now will make me a good nurse. I know that this is what I am meant to do.
Which leads me to lesson 2: God has a plan for all of us. Sometimes to road to the fuffillment of that plan is long and hard, but it's a road that has to be travelled.
I don't have a college degree, and to be honest, I don't think that a 4 year university program is my cup of tea any way. I'm just not patient enough for the program; I am more of a hands on kind of girl. Testament to this would be my previous career as a Registered Sales Assistant. I had the honor of working with people and helping them plan for and save for their retirement. I held hands with widows and attended weddings and family events of clients I grew close to. I stumbled into the field purely by accident, thanks to a temp agency and the manager of a branch of Morgan Stanley who saw my potential. I loved my work, and was mostly happy with the men and women that I worked with. Sarah Whitmore, the afore mentioned manager, was an instrumental person in my life.
Some of the people I worked for were Type A assholes (you have to be a Type A to succeed in the brokerage business), but the vast majority were Type A awesome people, who also nurtured and mentored me. I made great friends with clients and bosses alike, and most of my bosses treated me with respect, and trusted me with their business. I never, ever, even with the asses I worked with, betrayed that trust. Some bridges should never be burned, and besides, it isn't in my nature to burn bridges.
When I met Mike, I was in a high position within the firm I worked for; a position earned through the dint of my hard work and integrity. Having smarts was a plus as well. So leaving the industry to become an at home mom was a hard decision. I was so used to working to support my girls, to provide a roof over our heads and food on the table. I actually came to terms with the fact that I would end up the "Crazy Cat Lady Down the Street" at some point in 2009, which is of course when I met Mike.
Talk about your whole world changing in the course of a few months!
I am not complaining, not by a long shot. To be honest, I wasn't sure that I'd like being a homemaker. I had never had the chance to do so, and I didn't know if I'd be cut out for it. Its harder than I thought it would be, and the fact that I used to sneer at homemakers, leaves me blushing for shame these days.
To put it simply, I never imagined this life...a life where the neighborhood kids come to swim in our pool, where I can make breakfast and see the kids off to school. I life where I can curl up next to the most comfortable partner I've ever had. A life with a cat and a puppy who makes us laugh. A life where I have someone besides my beloved daughters to kiss good night and kiss good morning. A home. I have a home.
Lesson One: God always has a plan for us.
Yet, I still have this yearning to do more. As if life weren't busy enough!
Part of the yearning comes from seeing how damn hard Mike works for us to have the traditional life style we have. I am still bowled over by him. My mother has been seriously ill since December and daddy has to work, so it's been me who has been at her bedside at the hospital, and at home; nursing her and tending to her. In all honesty, it's hard, running a house and taking care of her, but if not for Mike and his integrity or his priorities being right, I'd never be able to do this. My mother feels grateful for the sacrifices we make, but to me it isn't a sacrifice...it's a daughter's duty. One that I accept and do with pleasure, even when I see her suffer. I don't want a stranger taking care of her, yet there are so many situations like mine, where strangers take care of others loved ones, instead of family. In this day and age it cannot be helped. Things are the way they are, but the care taking that I've been doing, has fanned the long burning embers of something I wanted to do, but couldn't.
I want to be a nurse.
I have wanted to do this for quite a long time, but could never have done so as a good nursing program requires full time attendance, and I was a single mother with a house to support. Then, one day while perusing the want ad's for part time work, I noticed that there was a HUGE need for part time nurses, and thought that if I were a nurse I'd have no problems finding a job that didn't involve retail. I wanted to work part time, if anything to enable Mike to cut back on his OT...he's a cop and patrols and cops who patrol need to be rested. There were and are days when Mike walks out of the house with bags under his eyes that frighten me and make me want to cry, all of this so that I can be a good daughter to my mother and a mom to my girls.
He humbles me.
Well, the ad's for part time nurses, coupled with the things I've seen, done and learned in taking care of my mother, fanned that long banked flame of desire to nurse. So I've decided to go for it. I'm only 44 after all, not old, certainly still spry and in pretty good physical shape.
Once mom's doctors, and the nurses at the various hospitals she has been in, found out about my desire, they were more than willing to teach me, show me and answer questions. I've been amazed at the whole process, and along the way I've learned quite a few lessons. I've also narrowed down fields I want to specialize in.
For example: I have learned a bit about wound care in diabetic patients. I can clean and dress a wound while maintaining a sterile field. Did you know that you can use sanitary napkins for a dressing on a draining would, as they absorb so much? Neither did I, until a Doctor Nguyen taught me.
I have learned the finer details of a Portacath, how to maintain it via flushing, how to draw blood from it, how to remove and change the needle, which is an L shaped object and needs to go in just so.
I've learned the effects of certain narcotics and how tortuous Narcan is on a patient, but also how it saves lives. I've discovered that suctioning a patient is needed, even though watching one's mother suctioned is hard to see.
I've learned the finer points of intubation and also why Diprovan is called Milk of Amnesia.
I understand why Occupational Therapy and Physical Therapy is so very, very important for patients who are disabled like my mom.
I've learned about antibiotic resistant infections and calorie restricted diabetic diets.
I can prime new tubing for an IV on the first go, no air bubbles with me, no sir!
I can listen to a patient weep, or talk, in the darkest of hours. I can be there with them through the fear, the unknown; I don't offer advice, just the listening is enough.
I discovered that there are so many ways to take care of a person, small ways and large. I've seen the compassion, the genuine compassion and caring of good, no great, nurses toward my mother. Their devotion to their vocation is so inspiring!
These last 6 months have firmed my desire to go into this field.
It all started when my youngest was born, prematurely; weighing only 2 and 1/2 pounds. I saw the care the nurses gave to Adele, and that lit the spark. Mom's ordeal fanned the flames.
I know that I will make an awesome nurse. I will even be able to get past my gagging when other people vomit (it's my weakness, I can't handle puke!), if my desire is enough; and it is.
I know that I will be a good nurse because I have been at the bedside of my mother, who but for the Grace of God, was dying. I know what other families will or have been through, what they think. The helplessness, the prayers they pray.
I know how damn helpless a new mother with a premature child feels. Seeing the tubes, the isolette, the restrictions, the very labor that the baby goes through to survive.
I understand the helplessness of the patient, people who were mobile and active until illness stopped all of that; the impatience and the depression that they experience while lying in bed, unable to do for themselves. I get how they feel like they aren't in control of their lives anymore...like they are just lab rats and controlled by others.
I've lived it. Lived it several times. I understand and I want to bring that experience to my nursing. That compassion.
I am sure that I am idealizing. Nursing is gritty and dirty. My sister is an ER nurse, and the stories she tells are compelling or horrofying.
But, I want to take care of sick babies, or work in CCU.
Those are my desires, and perhaps they will change, but that is what I want to do right now. Just because I've seen both specialties and I know that I can bring, not only good nursing into it, but life experience. What I wouldn't have given for a NICU nurse to explain things to me, to just relay to me in any small way that she knew what I was going through...to empathize.
I believe that what I am experiencing now will make me a good nurse. I know that this is what I am meant to do.
Which leads me to lesson 2: God has a plan for all of us. Sometimes to road to the fuffillment of that plan is long and hard, but it's a road that has to be travelled.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Anatomy of a Motorcycle Wreck, and Why I will Ride Again
The ride to where I was going was textbook perfect. It was sunny, there were some cross winds, but those were only in the straightaways where there were no trees to shield me. I was so proud of myself (still am) for reaching Tomball (35 miles from home) on my first ride that wasn't around the neighborhood, that after I backed the bike into it's parking slot, I punched the air.
The trip home a few hours later wasn't so perfect. The Sun was shining, but the head winds were truly bad. At least they seemed so to me, the novice. I'm sure an expert rider would have found them challenging, but not scary like I did. At any rate, the first half of the ride was okay, the head winds sucked, but I handled them and even pulled off into a gas station and took a rest at the half way mark. I needed to plan the rest of my ride, as I hadn't taken the winds into account in my plans.
One cigarette later, and after running the rest of the route, which was full of curves, through my head, I was back on the road and dealing rather well with the extra challenge.
Or so I thought.
Looking back on the wreck now, I see my mistake. If the price of my stupidity is leaving some of y skin on Fry Road is the price I have to pay in exchange for walking away, then I'm fine with it. However, I do have to reconstruct yesterday's events so that I learn from my mistakes.
On a long, deceptively sharp curve on Fry, approaching the intersection with Hwy 529, the winds went from head to cross. I had to lean harder on the bike, fine no probs..my posture was good, eyes were where I wanted to be. Then, in the apex, a fierce gust hit me, jogging the handlebars...well the whole bike, actually.
I panicked. Panicked and made a stupid error. Broke the cardinal rule of riding.
I took my eyes off of the road and grabbed the front brake when my wheels weren't aligned.
But, I will ride again. I love riding, the smells of the road or the new mown grass, the morning and afternoon of this ride I smelled the freshness of just sawn lumber. I like the challenge, riding has made me a better driver, I'm more aware of the cars around me. I love the freedom that riding gives me, there is nothing better than a clear day and riding the country roads, especially when I am behind Mike, my arms wrapped around him as we zip along.
So this accident won't stop me from riding, I enjoy it too much to stop.
The trip home a few hours later wasn't so perfect. The Sun was shining, but the head winds were truly bad. At least they seemed so to me, the novice. I'm sure an expert rider would have found them challenging, but not scary like I did. At any rate, the first half of the ride was okay, the head winds sucked, but I handled them and even pulled off into a gas station and took a rest at the half way mark. I needed to plan the rest of my ride, as I hadn't taken the winds into account in my plans.
One cigarette later, and after running the rest of the route, which was full of curves, through my head, I was back on the road and dealing rather well with the extra challenge.
Or so I thought.
Looking back on the wreck now, I see my mistake. If the price of my stupidity is leaving some of y skin on Fry Road is the price I have to pay in exchange for walking away, then I'm fine with it. However, I do have to reconstruct yesterday's events so that I learn from my mistakes.
On a long, deceptively sharp curve on Fry, approaching the intersection with Hwy 529, the winds went from head to cross. I had to lean harder on the bike, fine no probs..my posture was good, eyes were where I wanted to be. Then, in the apex, a fierce gust hit me, jogging the handlebars...well the whole bike, actually.
I panicked. Panicked and made a stupid error. Broke the cardinal rule of riding.
I took my eyes off of the road and grabbed the front brake when my wheels weren't aligned.
I remember the bike going out of control, which worsened the panic and I threw my legs out and off the pegs. Then I remember going down, at some point I hit the engine off button (thank you Jesus), and slid about 20 or 30 feet. I remember checking my speed as I approached the curve and downshifting in anticipation of the red light ahead, and I was doing about 50 as I entered the curve and began slowing down, so I figure that I was going 35 to 40 when the crash happened.
People say that when they were in accidents that their lives flashed before their eyes...not me. I distinctly remember thinking this: “You have to be fucking kidding me” as I hit the pavement and slid.
As soon at we stopped I got up and got onto the grass next to me, and two gentlemen stopped and helped me get the bike up and out of the street. I called then texted Mike and then Jason. Mike got AAA to come out and so I spent an hour and a half cooling down in the nearby Jack in the Box.
I got drunk on purpose once I got home and cleaned my wounds. I didn’t want to dream about the wreck, and if I did I don’t remember.
This morning I am sore, well it’s way beyond sore, dehydrated (thanks you scotch!) and mad at myself. No, supremely pissed is a better way to describe it, actually.
What I should have done was just keep my eyes on the road, looking in the direction I wanted to go and rolled a tad more on the throttle until I got onto the small straightaway. Then, I’d have been able to do a rapid stop, or maybe the light would have turned green. Had I kept my eyes on the prize, the bike would have righted it self and I’d have been fine.
I made a stupid mistake and consider myself blessed that all that happened was I got scraped up and the bike is missing a peg and some paint.
I will NEVER make this mistake again, that’s for sure and naturally I will ride again, as soon as the bike is fixed and my ego is less bruised. The fun part is going to be telling my parents, (who really don’t like me riding even thought they haven’t told me so) today when I take the kids to see them. I am SOOOO looking forward to that talk with them.
But, I will ride again. I love riding, the smells of the road or the new mown grass, the morning and afternoon of this ride I smelled the freshness of just sawn lumber. I like the challenge, riding has made me a better driver, I'm more aware of the cars around me. I love the freedom that riding gives me, there is nothing better than a clear day and riding the country roads, especially when I am behind Mike, my arms wrapped around him as we zip along.
So this accident won't stop me from riding, I enjoy it too much to stop.
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| My knee |
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| My Elbow |
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| My Shoulder |
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Yes, Yes, I know...It's been a while....
But I have been busy, taking care of mom, the house, the puppy and the kids.
I have, however, taken a weekend off and returned to my birthplace....New Orleans for a respite weekend.
While it's true I lived here in 2009 and part of 2010, it's nice to play tourist; to return to the places you visited as a kid. Today I slept in, lolling about in the comfortable bed in my hotel. I'm sitting on it as I write this, still luxuriating in the comfort of the many pillows that are just the right amount of fluffy and firm.
So, today I decided that once I got up, I wanted to have a roast beef poboy and then visit the New Orleans of Art. I hadn't been to the museum in a very long time, the most memorable trip being to see the King Tut exhibit back in the 70's. I remember that they painted the street and circle Nile Blue and how much of a production it was for our city.
After dressing, and regretting the fact that I failed to pack a hat, I set off for Parran's poboys...which 10 years ago when I lived here, was a small hole in the wall affair that served incredible food.
It's much bigger today and the menu has expanded as well, but the poboys are still incredible; as a matter of fact todays lunch was a 6 napkin lunch, which for you non New Orleanian's means that the poboy was dripping with gravy. I also had Fried Eggplant sticks with marinara sauce....I ADORE fried eggplant!!!!
The whole day was beautiful. It was warm, especially in the sun, but the verdant shade of the sculpture garden, the oak's and the moss, cooled me. I had forgotten how pleasant the oasis that is City Park, and as I watched the paddle boats or the picnickers, I recalled the times we spent at the park when I was a girl. The train still runs, I can remember taking that train around the park; the children still wave at the people who wait at the crossing, smiles wide with the innocent delight of a child. Some of the adults waved too, some a bit sheepishly perhaps, and most likely were only doing it to please the kids. Had I had the time for a ride, I'd have waived.
As I stated earlier, it had been a while since I'd been to the Museum of Art, and I had forgotten how imposing the original wooden doors are...they are about 10 inches thick, and decorated with iron studs and handles. It opened in 1911 and so the centennial anniversary is being celebrated in a year long fete, complete with floral art. Some of the featured art was done by New Orleans institutions, like Adler's Jewler's...I can still hear the time announced on the radio "Adler's Jewlery time is ...." or the TImes Picayune, The Picayune as it was then, who had a newspaper stand made of flowers and a slide show of front pages that spanned 100 years.
I also saw the Faberge collection, a truly beautiful collection, and Japanese Calligraphy. My favorite was this HUGE portrait of Marie Antoinette, as queen. It spanned from celing to floor. I wish that pictures were allowed, forbidden I'm afraid, so that I could post a shot of it. Truly imposing, beautiful. As it was, I took pictures of what I could...
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| The New Orleans Museum of Art |
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| Sculpture on the entrance circle. |
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| Verdant and cool. |
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| Part of the sculpture garden. |
After my walk in the park, I decided that it was time for me to take a rare nap. So back to the hotel and the heavenly bed in my room. After all, I had a performance to attend later in the evening.
I've written about Jason before...and his band The Flashback Chameleons performed at Dago's Cantina last night. and naturally I attended. After all, true friends are hard to come by, and also I appreciate music, especially when its performed by talented people. Jason and the Chameleons are very, very talented.
Suffice it to say, I haven't stayed up as late as I did in a long, long time. In fact I didn't make it back to the hotel until 5 AM this morning. Talk about a hard drive back to Houston today...thank God for coffee. BUT I HAD A BLAST!!!!! I also got to see Mike Styborski, am old buddy from middle school who is still as cool as he was then.
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| Jason and De De, part of the Flashback Chameleons |
All in all, I had a wonderful weekend! I really needed to get away from it all and it was nice to get back home again.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Update on Mom and Other Items
My last entry was on 2/23, one day before my eldest daughter turned 16, and the news was dire.
Well, miracles do indeed happen, my mother pulled through. She has a long, long road ahead of her as she has to recover from the punemonia and also rehab her knee, but I am not complaining.
My eldest, Katie, just left this morning for a week long trip to The Big Apple. She is touring with her school choir, and they will see all of Manhattan as well as attend two Broadway shows and give a concert in front of the Statue of Liberty. I had to drop her off at school for 3:30 this morning, and she was all hyped up...thank God for Community Coffee! She just called to tell me that they landed safely. I know that she will have a great time, my baby is growng up!
I am horrified by the earthquake and the tsunami in Japan...Ive been following the news and watch in awe at the footage of the waters rushing on shore. The fact that entire villages have been wiped from the face of the earth is hard to wrap my mind around. Now the news that a nuclear reactor may melt down is on my mind; I hope that they can get the situation under control and that the fall out isn't too bad.
All in all, I'm for nuclear power, but I'm sure the greenies out there are already chanting No Nukes, etc. Please people! Events like this are very rare and really, the Japan situation is really a perfect storm and from what I've seen they are doing everything in their power to control this.
Wisconsin made me cheer. While I understand private unions, I never really cottoned to public unions, especially if they have collective barganing powers. As for the protestors, well they acted like animals in the storming of the capital building. It was interesting the number of purple SEIU shirts I counted...they're nothing but thugs.
Gas has hit $3.43 a gallon for regular unleaded here in my neck of the woods. I'd like to thank President Obama for the moratorium, and would also like to extend kuddos to the enviro-wackos for preventing the use of the resources we possess in our country.
Way to go, wackos! I can't tell you all how much I appreciate that we continue to be dependant on people whose asses we have to kiss in order for us to get fuel for our cars, busses and trains. I can't thank you enough for the rise in the cost of the food I buy to feed my family, or that my husband has to take on extra overtime so that I can be home for my kids and take care of my mom. He's just a cop and his job isn't that bloody dangerous or anything, so double shifts on the streets of Houston are just a cake walk for him! Not to mention the fact that I really don't need to actually see my husband, or spend time with him or anything.
Also, big thanks for potentially affecting our annual Memorial Day Crawfish Boil! We really don't need to see family and friends, who drive in from New Orleans and Baton Rouge for the shindig, whom we don't see often or anything like that. It's just family and friends and all, I mean really.
So thanks, Mr. President! Thanks enviro-wackos!
Well, miracles do indeed happen, my mother pulled through. She has a long, long road ahead of her as she has to recover from the punemonia and also rehab her knee, but I am not complaining.
My eldest, Katie, just left this morning for a week long trip to The Big Apple. She is touring with her school choir, and they will see all of Manhattan as well as attend two Broadway shows and give a concert in front of the Statue of Liberty. I had to drop her off at school for 3:30 this morning, and she was all hyped up...thank God for Community Coffee! She just called to tell me that they landed safely. I know that she will have a great time, my baby is growng up!
I am horrified by the earthquake and the tsunami in Japan...Ive been following the news and watch in awe at the footage of the waters rushing on shore. The fact that entire villages have been wiped from the face of the earth is hard to wrap my mind around. Now the news that a nuclear reactor may melt down is on my mind; I hope that they can get the situation under control and that the fall out isn't too bad.
All in all, I'm for nuclear power, but I'm sure the greenies out there are already chanting No Nukes, etc. Please people! Events like this are very rare and really, the Japan situation is really a perfect storm and from what I've seen they are doing everything in their power to control this.
Wisconsin made me cheer. While I understand private unions, I never really cottoned to public unions, especially if they have collective barganing powers. As for the protestors, well they acted like animals in the storming of the capital building. It was interesting the number of purple SEIU shirts I counted...they're nothing but thugs.
Gas has hit $3.43 a gallon for regular unleaded here in my neck of the woods. I'd like to thank President Obama for the moratorium, and would also like to extend kuddos to the enviro-wackos for preventing the use of the resources we possess in our country.
Way to go, wackos! I can't tell you all how much I appreciate that we continue to be dependant on people whose asses we have to kiss in order for us to get fuel for our cars, busses and trains. I can't thank you enough for the rise in the cost of the food I buy to feed my family, or that my husband has to take on extra overtime so that I can be home for my kids and take care of my mom. He's just a cop and his job isn't that bloody dangerous or anything, so double shifts on the streets of Houston are just a cake walk for him! Not to mention the fact that I really don't need to actually see my husband, or spend time with him or anything.
Also, big thanks for potentially affecting our annual Memorial Day Crawfish Boil! We really don't need to see family and friends, who drive in from New Orleans and Baton Rouge for the shindig, whom we don't see often or anything like that. It's just family and friends and all, I mean really.
So thanks, Mr. President! Thanks enviro-wackos!
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
On Mortality
My mother is dying.
She is only 64, and I am not ready for her to die.
Am I being selfish? The last few years have been filled with pain for her. She isn't dying from cancer, but from an accident. An accident that resulted from a fall she took after a knee replacement, and then from a fall she took a week later in the hospital...she seemed to be doing so well. She was participating in physical therapy. We had her in the care of a wound treatment doctor. She showed no signs; presented no symptoms of the pneumonia that is killing her now. No fever, no cough, no nothing.
To say that we are shocked by the diagnosis is an understatement.
Her history is thus: for a couple of years now, her knee has been giving her problems, so she has gotten sedentary as a result. Thus she has gotten obese. On 12/20/10 she had her knee replaced. On 12/28 she was back in hospital with an infection in the knee. On 1/1 she was sent home. A few days later, when she was alone, she fell in a freak accident and the incision burst open. She crawled to the phone and got help, since her alert necklace didn't work.
Emergency surgery repaired the leg. One week later, in the hospital, she fell again. The incision ruptured again, and after surgery we were told that another fall would cost her the leg.
30 days later she went home. Then this past Sunday she was back in the ER with shortness of breath. She was diagnosed with phenomena and put on a ventilator.
They can't take her off of it, as she cannot take enough breaths to sustain life. I am not a doctor, but even I know that the longer one is intubated, the harder it is to get off of it. Her pulmonologist has said it's not a question of when she will get off of the machine, but IF she can get off. If she can't get off, she will need long term care, on a vent, and she will never consent to that. So her death will be either by suffocation or morphine.
I am not ready for my mother to die.
I know that we are mortal, but these last few months have really made me realize the mortality of my mom and dad. I used to think of them as always there. That one day they would see their granddaughters married. In the back of my mind, I knew that there would come a time when I would have to take care of them...I just didn't expect it to be so damn soon.
And I find myself in a sort of limbo. I have children who love their grand-ma, children whom I haven't told the news. My oldest turns 16 tomorrow, and I want to put it off till after her party and quite honestly I'm scared to death about telling my youngest. She is extraordinarily close to mom. I'm not sure how she will cope with this. Hell, I'm not sure how I am coping with all of this!
I feel caught. Caught between emotions; I know that I need to deal with my children and their emotions, I need to deal with my emotions, I have to be there for my daddy. How do I take care of everyone and take care of myself?
How do I face my mother when we tell her the options she has? How do I accept the decision I know she will make? Will I be brave enough to be with her at the end?
How do I live my life without the best mother a woman could ever ask for, faults and all, in my life?
Why do I accept the premise of either God will take her home, or heal her, with such ease? I pray for a miracle, but I still plan for the worst. Does that make me a sinner? Unfaithful? Or does that make me practical and realistic?
I just want my mother to be out of pain. I would prefer her to live, but what if God's plan is to bring her home? Will my and is my anger righteous?
I cannot imagine a life without her. My mother has been there for me in ways I cannot even begin to enumerate. I wouldn't be where I am without her.
The fact that these are likely her last days is like a poisonous thought to me, but I must also face the reality that my parents are indeed mortal.
It is a hard thought, a hard idea to bear...but it is also, in its own way, another lesson on life; given by a parent. It is also a chance to serve her the way she has served me.
As scary and sad as this all is, I am also honored that I have this privilege...and saddened too.
It is indescribable.
She is only 64, and I am not ready for her to die.
Am I being selfish? The last few years have been filled with pain for her. She isn't dying from cancer, but from an accident. An accident that resulted from a fall she took after a knee replacement, and then from a fall she took a week later in the hospital...she seemed to be doing so well. She was participating in physical therapy. We had her in the care of a wound treatment doctor. She showed no signs; presented no symptoms of the pneumonia that is killing her now. No fever, no cough, no nothing.
To say that we are shocked by the diagnosis is an understatement.
Her history is thus: for a couple of years now, her knee has been giving her problems, so she has gotten sedentary as a result. Thus she has gotten obese. On 12/20/10 she had her knee replaced. On 12/28 she was back in hospital with an infection in the knee. On 1/1 she was sent home. A few days later, when she was alone, she fell in a freak accident and the incision burst open. She crawled to the phone and got help, since her alert necklace didn't work.
Emergency surgery repaired the leg. One week later, in the hospital, she fell again. The incision ruptured again, and after surgery we were told that another fall would cost her the leg.
30 days later she went home. Then this past Sunday she was back in the ER with shortness of breath. She was diagnosed with phenomena and put on a ventilator.
They can't take her off of it, as she cannot take enough breaths to sustain life. I am not a doctor, but even I know that the longer one is intubated, the harder it is to get off of it. Her pulmonologist has said it's not a question of when she will get off of the machine, but IF she can get off. If she can't get off, she will need long term care, on a vent, and she will never consent to that. So her death will be either by suffocation or morphine.
I am not ready for my mother to die.
I know that we are mortal, but these last few months have really made me realize the mortality of my mom and dad. I used to think of them as always there. That one day they would see their granddaughters married. In the back of my mind, I knew that there would come a time when I would have to take care of them...I just didn't expect it to be so damn soon.
And I find myself in a sort of limbo. I have children who love their grand-ma, children whom I haven't told the news. My oldest turns 16 tomorrow, and I want to put it off till after her party and quite honestly I'm scared to death about telling my youngest. She is extraordinarily close to mom. I'm not sure how she will cope with this. Hell, I'm not sure how I am coping with all of this!
I feel caught. Caught between emotions; I know that I need to deal with my children and their emotions, I need to deal with my emotions, I have to be there for my daddy. How do I take care of everyone and take care of myself?
How do I face my mother when we tell her the options she has? How do I accept the decision I know she will make? Will I be brave enough to be with her at the end?
How do I live my life without the best mother a woman could ever ask for, faults and all, in my life?
Why do I accept the premise of either God will take her home, or heal her, with such ease? I pray for a miracle, but I still plan for the worst. Does that make me a sinner? Unfaithful? Or does that make me practical and realistic?
I just want my mother to be out of pain. I would prefer her to live, but what if God's plan is to bring her home? Will my and is my anger righteous?
I cannot imagine a life without her. My mother has been there for me in ways I cannot even begin to enumerate. I wouldn't be where I am without her.
The fact that these are likely her last days is like a poisonous thought to me, but I must also face the reality that my parents are indeed mortal.
It is a hard thought, a hard idea to bear...but it is also, in its own way, another lesson on life; given by a parent. It is also a chance to serve her the way she has served me.
As scary and sad as this all is, I am also honored that I have this privilege...and saddened too.
It is indescribable.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
When Did This Happen???
It's 5 A.M. A time of day when all good folks should be asleep...not working on their 11 year-old daughter's science experiment that she had all weekend to do but chose to wait until 5 P.M. yesterday to start, do and complete. No, she didn't even plan the layout of the three sided foam board on which she presents her experiment.
When did my A/B honor roll student morph into an academically lazy, hormone laden, I have to fight her to get anything school related or chore related done, pre-teen? I didn't see it coming!!! It's as if aliens have kidnapped the pleasant, well mannered child I've raised and substituted her with a whinny android twin...the anthesis of the child that lived in my house for the last 10 years.
All of a sudden she is obsessed with Pokemon and a boy named Javier, who is a nice boy, but she is 11 and so is he, and didn't I hate boys at 11? All of a sudden, she does her chores in a half-assed manner, whines over everything and fights with her oldest sister. Then sometimes, she is the same cuddly, well tempered child I've known since before she was born. Am I living with Sybil?
The thing that really kills me is this; She is so frighteningly intelligent. This girl, who at the age of 9, unwittingly explained Einstein's Theory of Relativity to me from the back seat of the car one day, out of the clear blue, is scary smart. She is capable of so much more than she is giving right now, and it's frustrating. Especially at 5 A.M. whilst gulping coffee and inhailing Sharpie fumes. Sharpie fumes make me sneeze and I am not civil until I've had at least 2 cups of Community New Orleans Blend.
Currently, she is at the dining room table, coloring in the lettering that I've worked so hard to make look like her penmanship. Penmanship that has gone from the neat Catholic school printing, to that of resembling a doctor's illegable scrawl. She is also crying in frustration and I'm still working on cup one of the aforementioned Community coffee, and trying to keep my cool. I love my life,I love my life, I love my life....
When did my A/B honor roll student morph into an academically lazy, hormone laden, I have to fight her to get anything school related or chore related done, pre-teen? I didn't see it coming!!! It's as if aliens have kidnapped the pleasant, well mannered child I've raised and substituted her with a whinny android twin...the anthesis of the child that lived in my house for the last 10 years.
All of a sudden she is obsessed with Pokemon and a boy named Javier, who is a nice boy, but she is 11 and so is he, and didn't I hate boys at 11? All of a sudden, she does her chores in a half-assed manner, whines over everything and fights with her oldest sister. Then sometimes, she is the same cuddly, well tempered child I've known since before she was born. Am I living with Sybil?
The thing that really kills me is this; She is so frighteningly intelligent. This girl, who at the age of 9, unwittingly explained Einstein's Theory of Relativity to me from the back seat of the car one day, out of the clear blue, is scary smart. She is capable of so much more than she is giving right now, and it's frustrating. Especially at 5 A.M. whilst gulping coffee and inhailing Sharpie fumes. Sharpie fumes make me sneeze and I am not civil until I've had at least 2 cups of Community New Orleans Blend.
Currently, she is at the dining room table, coloring in the lettering that I've worked so hard to make look like her penmanship. Penmanship that has gone from the neat Catholic school printing, to that of resembling a doctor's illegable scrawl. She is also crying in frustration and I'm still working on cup one of the aforementioned Community coffee, and trying to keep my cool. I love my life,I love my life, I love my life....
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