Friday, June 22, 2012
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Monday, June 4, 2012
Friday, June 1, 2012
FATE
Bear with me as I babble on my blog....
(that sentence has a lot of Bs...reminds me of one of my favorite movies: Overboard...when Goldie Hawn was going "b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b" and one kid is throwing grapes at her and the other one is going, "I like when she goes "b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b") Anyway...
About a week before Justin and I were going to run off to Mexico to get married, (not really considered an "elopement" since we told everyone beforehand -- well, like a day or two beforehand...) we went to a Kenny Chesney concert. We love going to concerts. We love live music. Kenny Chesney ("Kenny, buddy, ole' pal, as Justin says....ha) is one of our favorites. He puts on a great show. To add to the sweetness, Uncle Kracker opened for him. And, I love me some Uncle Kracker!!! We sat down in our seats and quickly took up with the great couple in front of us -- who were with their two grown daughters (early 20sish). They were fun and awesome...I told Justin I loved that they were there with their kids. They were one of the first people we told about our plans to marry. I love families that WANT to be with each other -- and not on holidays -- but on all days. Throughout the concert we talked, and sang, and laughed and high fived. They didn't mind that we drank too much or sang off key -- and it quickly felt like we were all at the concert: together. When it was over, we swapped "facebook" names and went on our way.
Leslie and I kept up on facebook. She was excited to see the pictures of the ceremony. We chit chatted...small talk...and stalked each others facebook pages. We had so much in common it was weird. More so, I just REALLY liked her. That's strange, people. I dont' really LIKE many people off the bat...women, in particular. But Leslie was different. I have this strange magnetic pull to her. It's almost motherly/best friendish/soul mate kind of weirdness, I can't explain it. So, a month later when we had the reception -- Leslie and her daughter came. It was SO good to see her, albeit slightly awkward to say "these are my Kenny Chesney friends!" Time went on and we still talked. We missed each other by seconds at subsequent concerts and always talk about all getting together.
You know how that goes....life.
We are all so busy -- my schedule, while I only work 3 days a week, is never consistent. We all work full time. She helped plan her daughter's wedding, only to turn around and start planning her other daughter's wedding (much like my parents did...wowza...busy.) But we still connect and catch up...and I just love her to death. I knew that when everything chilled out that we would find time for each other...a strange thing to say, but I KNOW she will be in my life. We will celebrate happy times and tough times...I just know it! I loved her pictures of the wedding...and smiled with her smiles of how much she loves her family.
Friday, May 25, as my shift is about to end, a colleague gets a new admit. He needs help getting her settled (no, it's not Leslie, but the story is building, isn't it?). A woman, I would say -- in her 40/50s was there with her mother. I helped get her situated and then gave my reports and was off work til Sunday.
Sunday, May 27, I get my assignment for the day. I have 718. I go about my day -- I learn that this woman has been told only a week or so ago that she has uterine cancer -- and now she's "ALOC" (altered level of consciousness). I fear that it's mets to the brain...I fucking hate cancer. And always try to love on the family as much as the patient during these times because I remember too vividly the nurses that did NOT care about my dad or my family when we were going through it. I heard the background. I met her husband, her mother, her daughter. I did my best to make my patient comfortable. The family was told that the cancer was everywhere. I sat in on the family meeting with the oncologist. I put the DNR bracelet on her arm and changed her code status in the computer (the HARDEST thing I do as a nurse...because it was like time .... stood.... still.... when my dad was sick....but the minute we signed that paper...he's chart was changed, the board was changed and someone we didn't know was putting a purple DNR bracelet on the man that meant more to me than anything in the world. Jackasses...) I gave her a bath and tried to soothe her pain and wet her lips. I stared into the eyes of this woman and saw confusion and pain...meddled with strength and beauty...and learned about her husband's own cancer diagnosis....her daughter's training in the medical field and about her 5 grandbaby boys. It's crazy to be honored in a way of caring for someone that you know doesn't have long on this earth....and I take it very seriously.
So, I was administering pain meds....cause God knows how much pain this woman was enduring...and I look up....
...and there is Leslie.
"You met my sissy..." she says....
...and I BAWL.
See....she had told me her sister was terminal. I told her I know how hard it is...told her I would pray...send positive thoughts, the whole deal....but now...
...I'm her nurse....
...and I KNOW her.
And in one swift whirlwind, everything flashes back to me...and I'm worried about Leslie. I've been there...devastated...pissed the fuck off....sad....you want to be hopeful, but you are also realistic...you can't even grasp it -- it's just too fast....and it's just too much -- you want to throw up, punch someone and grab your loved one and say how much you love them...how sorry you are...how much you wish you could change it...change that...change this... I literally lost my composure...with 10 people in the room....and had to excuse myself.
My beautiful friend.
My beautiful patient.
So I did my best -- I'd like to say that I am the best I can be for each and every patient, but I felt this duty in my soul. When they decided on hospice, I wept. I specifically pulled the oncologist aside and said "are you sure there is nothing that can be done?" I did my job. I fulfilled the duties asked of me. I kept her pain medication up and helped transport her to hospice...and when they left...Leslie asked me "are we doing the right thing?" and I fumbled my words, cause I'd asked the same question with my dad. "It doesn't seem like you have a choice...I wish there was something else I could say." And in a swoop, they were gone.
We've sent messages since then...Leslie's daughter and my patient's daughter also commented to me. It's NOT about me but the words were kind.
Today, I found out that she passed away though the night. How crazy fast and unbelievably difficult. And I bleed for this family. I wish there was something I could do.
Instead...I'll just be there....be here....and when Leslie is ready, I'll be ready too....and if that time never comes...well, we can just have a quiet comfort that the other person just "knows"
...and perhaps... we can hit the next concert: together. Because I do know that happiness and joyfulness does return. And I can't wait to be there when it does.
(that sentence has a lot of Bs...reminds me of one of my favorite movies: Overboard...when Goldie Hawn was going "b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b" and one kid is throwing grapes at her and the other one is going, "I like when she goes "b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b") Anyway...
About a week before Justin and I were going to run off to Mexico to get married, (not really considered an "elopement" since we told everyone beforehand -- well, like a day or two beforehand...) we went to a Kenny Chesney concert. We love going to concerts. We love live music. Kenny Chesney ("Kenny, buddy, ole' pal, as Justin says....ha) is one of our favorites. He puts on a great show. To add to the sweetness, Uncle Kracker opened for him. And, I love me some Uncle Kracker!!! We sat down in our seats and quickly took up with the great couple in front of us -- who were with their two grown daughters (early 20sish). They were fun and awesome...I told Justin I loved that they were there with their kids. They were one of the first people we told about our plans to marry. I love families that WANT to be with each other -- and not on holidays -- but on all days. Throughout the concert we talked, and sang, and laughed and high fived. They didn't mind that we drank too much or sang off key -- and it quickly felt like we were all at the concert: together. When it was over, we swapped "facebook" names and went on our way.
Leslie and I kept up on facebook. She was excited to see the pictures of the ceremony. We chit chatted...small talk...and stalked each others facebook pages. We had so much in common it was weird. More so, I just REALLY liked her. That's strange, people. I dont' really LIKE many people off the bat...women, in particular. But Leslie was different. I have this strange magnetic pull to her. It's almost motherly/best friendish/soul mate kind of weirdness, I can't explain it. So, a month later when we had the reception -- Leslie and her daughter came. It was SO good to see her, albeit slightly awkward to say "these are my Kenny Chesney friends!" Time went on and we still talked. We missed each other by seconds at subsequent concerts and always talk about all getting together.
You know how that goes....life.
We are all so busy -- my schedule, while I only work 3 days a week, is never consistent. We all work full time. She helped plan her daughter's wedding, only to turn around and start planning her other daughter's wedding (much like my parents did...wowza...busy.) But we still connect and catch up...and I just love her to death. I knew that when everything chilled out that we would find time for each other...a strange thing to say, but I KNOW she will be in my life. We will celebrate happy times and tough times...I just know it! I loved her pictures of the wedding...and smiled with her smiles of how much she loves her family.
Friday, May 25, as my shift is about to end, a colleague gets a new admit. He needs help getting her settled (no, it's not Leslie, but the story is building, isn't it?). A woman, I would say -- in her 40/50s was there with her mother. I helped get her situated and then gave my reports and was off work til Sunday.
Sunday, May 27, I get my assignment for the day. I have 718. I go about my day -- I learn that this woman has been told only a week or so ago that she has uterine cancer -- and now she's "ALOC" (altered level of consciousness). I fear that it's mets to the brain...I fucking hate cancer. And always try to love on the family as much as the patient during these times because I remember too vividly the nurses that did NOT care about my dad or my family when we were going through it. I heard the background. I met her husband, her mother, her daughter. I did my best to make my patient comfortable. The family was told that the cancer was everywhere. I sat in on the family meeting with the oncologist. I put the DNR bracelet on her arm and changed her code status in the computer (the HARDEST thing I do as a nurse...because it was like time .... stood.... still.... when my dad was sick....but the minute we signed that paper...he's chart was changed, the board was changed and someone we didn't know was putting a purple DNR bracelet on the man that meant more to me than anything in the world. Jackasses...) I gave her a bath and tried to soothe her pain and wet her lips. I stared into the eyes of this woman and saw confusion and pain...meddled with strength and beauty...and learned about her husband's own cancer diagnosis....her daughter's training in the medical field and about her 5 grandbaby boys. It's crazy to be honored in a way of caring for someone that you know doesn't have long on this earth....and I take it very seriously.
So, I was administering pain meds....cause God knows how much pain this woman was enduring...and I look up....
...and there is Leslie.
"You met my sissy..." she says....
...and I BAWL.
See....she had told me her sister was terminal. I told her I know how hard it is...told her I would pray...send positive thoughts, the whole deal....but now...
...I'm her nurse....
...and I KNOW her.
And in one swift whirlwind, everything flashes back to me...and I'm worried about Leslie. I've been there...devastated...pissed the fuck off....sad....you want to be hopeful, but you are also realistic...you can't even grasp it -- it's just too fast....and it's just too much -- you want to throw up, punch someone and grab your loved one and say how much you love them...how sorry you are...how much you wish you could change it...change that...change this... I literally lost my composure...with 10 people in the room....and had to excuse myself.
My beautiful friend.
My beautiful patient.
So I did my best -- I'd like to say that I am the best I can be for each and every patient, but I felt this duty in my soul. When they decided on hospice, I wept. I specifically pulled the oncologist aside and said "are you sure there is nothing that can be done?" I did my job. I fulfilled the duties asked of me. I kept her pain medication up and helped transport her to hospice...and when they left...Leslie asked me "are we doing the right thing?" and I fumbled my words, cause I'd asked the same question with my dad. "It doesn't seem like you have a choice...I wish there was something else I could say." And in a swoop, they were gone.
We've sent messages since then...Leslie's daughter and my patient's daughter also commented to me. It's NOT about me but the words were kind.
Today, I found out that she passed away though the night. How crazy fast and unbelievably difficult. And I bleed for this family. I wish there was something I could do.
Instead...I'll just be there....be here....and when Leslie is ready, I'll be ready too....and if that time never comes...well, we can just have a quiet comfort that the other person just "knows"
...and perhaps... we can hit the next concert: together. Because I do know that happiness and joyfulness does return. And I can't wait to be there when it does.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
OUCH!
The boys each have a friend over and my nephews are here too -- 6 boys...they've eaten, played and now are watching tv together.

All that means that I have free time! So I'm sitting here looking up the recent actions on the Arizona Medical Board. (I have odd pastimes, I'm aware of this.) Most of them are pretty minor, in my opinion.... but this one made me laugh or choke...or well, shake my head... Check this out!
Basically, his divorce, particularly his EX is perhaps worse than mine.
The way I see it going down -- they met -- she loved the money, then she loved the perks and ended up loving her meds. Guessing ole' Dr. Hecht cheated on her and in the midst of the worst divorce in history, stupid psycho ex-wife pulls out all the low blows and rats out her ex-husband. It turns out he was prescribing her pain meds the whole time under her maiden name and NOW she thinks it's unethical.
What a bitch.
Anyway, the doc managed to skate away with a letter of reprimand...
That's a win in my book.
And I'm guessing the divorce is finalized by now.
That's a win/win in my book. :)
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Surprise! Another Welcome Home Wednesday brings me to my keyboard...
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Last day of 6th grade |
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1st day of Kindergarten |
What a couple of weeks! Our lives are pretty busy -- always full of fun and love. It's the end of the school year which has me reminiscing about earlier days. I read my blog about Dane's first day of kindergarten the other day: Dane's in Kindergarten... (that's a clickable link) it's on my previous blog -- Striving to be Erma. I love and hate that blog. There are so many memories...I've been bloggin quite a while...but it ended up being terribly depressing and hateful due to the very sad condition I was in at the time...and the blog had to be changed (a modern version of the page had to be turned) for me to grow..... and it made me cry. I know, I know...I cry a lot. But the pictures....the memories...such a happy place. And, the acknowledgement that so much has changed. My son has been through so much. His Grandpa's death, his parents divorced, both parent's have remarried, he has a step-dad and a step-mom (and step brothers) and he's moved 4 times....yet school has always been consistent. And, you know what? My boy thrived. Better than that....he conquered school -- great grades...great friends.... So, now he's moving on to Junior High -- and I can hardly breathe. I'm proud of my boy. I know he is a one of a kind kid. He will be fine. I'm pretty sure that I will be too...but I miss being so needed in his world. Yet, I want him to grow...and learn...and fly.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Happy.
I'm not bragging.
I'm basking.
Here's the thing: It happens, people. True happiness? -- amidst difficuties and hard work...when you look around...it's here.
I was called jaded today.
Jaded: The end result of having a steady flow of negative experiences, disappointment, and unfulfillment fed into a person where they get to the point where their anger circuits just sort of burn out and they accept disillusionment.
Perhaps I am....perhaps I welcome disillusionment...or rather, maybe it's living in the moment.
Smart enough to realize the other shoe will drop...days will be tough again...
but wise enough to realize today is NOT a bleak day. Today is beautiful and wonderful. Today my heart sings and love is abundant. I have a fantastic relationship with my husband. My children come home today. My family is healthy. My job is stable and dignified. My spirit is soaring. My confidence is overflowing. There is money in the bank and a vacation on the horizon. My friends are loyal and my laughter is frequent.
So sure, I will see dark days -- I've seen them before -- and come out of it to see today. And BECAUSE of that sadness, difficulty and depression...I will LOVE today.
Jaded...of course...smarter, wiser...and more appreciative of today.
I'll take it. :)
I'm basking.
Here's the thing: It happens, people. True happiness? -- amidst difficuties and hard work...when you look around...it's here.
I was called jaded today.
Jaded: The end result of having a steady flow of negative experiences, disappointment, and unfulfillment fed into a person where they get to the point where their anger circuits just sort of burn out and they accept disillusionment.
Perhaps I am....perhaps I welcome disillusionment...or rather, maybe it's living in the moment.
Smart enough to realize the other shoe will drop...days will be tough again...
but wise enough to realize today is NOT a bleak day. Today is beautiful and wonderful. Today my heart sings and love is abundant. I have a fantastic relationship with my husband. My children come home today. My family is healthy. My job is stable and dignified. My spirit is soaring. My confidence is overflowing. There is money in the bank and a vacation on the horizon. My friends are loyal and my laughter is frequent.
So sure, I will see dark days -- I've seen them before -- and come out of it to see today. And BECAUSE of that sadness, difficulty and depression...I will LOVE today.
Jaded...of course...smarter, wiser...and more appreciative of today.
I'll take it. :)
Friday, May 4, 2012
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Dane Patrick -- I love you.
My first born got braces today.
Big whoop-dee-do, huh?
For some reason, it was.
Somehow before my eyes, this child has really blossomed into a most beautiful spirit and I am honored to be able to watch the progression.
Dane has always been a good kid. His energy, even as a baby, was truly inspiring (not as exhausting as his brothers). His inquisition and curiosity were blended perfectly with a general wit, a toddler "street-smart" sense, if you will. I call him an "old soul" because he simply is. He has a sense of compassion and empathy that you just can't teach. It's the kind of peaceful patience and understanding that is usually earned through years of hard lessons, painful mistakes and life's setbacks. But, this kid just has it...in fact, he has always had it.
Today, he is an honest, good natured, kind, smart, athletic, talented, beautiful, well-behaved sixth-grade pre-teen. That almost sounds like an oxymoron, doesn't it? Well, not for Dane.
Dane is a star-student. He has won the Terrific Kid Award at his school. He is a straight-A student (who even GETS A+s in Science). He loves to learn -- is passionate about reading. This kid really does it all -- Student Council, Running Club, Talent Shows, Band, Honor Band, Football, Guitar, Clarinet, Millionaire Club, I could go on and on. But, what is so super special about this kid (other than the fact that he is mine)...is that he is delicately emotional. I don't mean that he is a ticking time bomb or an emotional roller-coaster, but this kid FEELS. His heart is pure...and golden. He gets upset when he thinks he has let us down -- a bad test score or stern mom-discipline can make his gorgeous dark brown bambi eyes tear up. He is fiercely competitive, but with amazing character and sportsmanship. He was a star on his football team, but always credited his blockers and his quarterback. He was so proud of himself when he made honor band playing the bass clarinet. It's the kind of passion a parent dreams they will see in their child. He is witty and his sense of humor is dry and quick. He keeps up with the adult conversations (sometimes too well). And, he's helpful. He helps his brother with his homework and with his football moves (and with is bloody noses, too.) He is kind to other kids his age. And, he loves and helps his "Mama" (I have no idea when or why he started calling me that...but he does.) I've said before...and I'll say it again...Dane helped me through the hardest times by being there...hugging me...holding my hand...sometimes...with just a look.
We just found out that he has won the Outstanding Superintendent Citizenship Award for the district. It's an unbelievable honor that shows other people see his leadership, integrity, kindness, dependability, intelligence and worth. We will be honoring him and watching him receive the award on the evening of May 16.
Today, as I was driving him to the orthodontist to get his braces, we were laughing and singing. He had a nervous energy. Mid song...my boy reaches over and intertwines his fingers in mine (yep, he sits in the front when it's just us.) We drove the rest of the way -- hand in hand. As he got on the chair, the orthodontist came over and Dane jumped up, faced him and shook his hand. I was proud of his respect. Then, minutes later, as I watched him....with his hands sweetly in his lap and huge feet crossed (showing the hole in his toe)...I actually had a flashback of his life. I stared at him. A boy...growing up so fast...a blessing in this world...
...and I cried.
That damn Irish heart just did me in...
I'm proud of my boy. I love him. I'm honored to watch him grow. He is already my dream come true and I cannot wait to see how his future unfolds....and even when I call him Brace Face....Tin Grin...Metal Mouth... :)
He feels my love in that old soul of his.
He knows.
Big whoop-dee-do, huh?
For some reason, it was.
Somehow before my eyes, this child has really blossomed into a most beautiful spirit and I am honored to be able to watch the progression.
Dane has always been a good kid. His energy, even as a baby, was truly inspiring (not as exhausting as his brothers). His inquisition and curiosity were blended perfectly with a general wit, a toddler "street-smart" sense, if you will. I call him an "old soul" because he simply is. He has a sense of compassion and empathy that you just can't teach. It's the kind of peaceful patience and understanding that is usually earned through years of hard lessons, painful mistakes and life's setbacks. But, this kid just has it...in fact, he has always had it.
Today, he is an honest, good natured, kind, smart, athletic, talented, beautiful, well-behaved sixth-grade pre-teen. That almost sounds like an oxymoron, doesn't it? Well, not for Dane.
Dane is a star-student. He has won the Terrific Kid Award at his school. He is a straight-A student (who even GETS A+s in Science). He loves to learn -- is passionate about reading. This kid really does it all -- Student Council, Running Club, Talent Shows, Band, Honor Band, Football, Guitar, Clarinet, Millionaire Club, I could go on and on. But, what is so super special about this kid (other than the fact that he is mine)...is that he is delicately emotional. I don't mean that he is a ticking time bomb or an emotional roller-coaster, but this kid FEELS. His heart is pure...and golden. He gets upset when he thinks he has let us down -- a bad test score or stern mom-discipline can make his gorgeous dark brown bambi eyes tear up. He is fiercely competitive, but with amazing character and sportsmanship. He was a star on his football team, but always credited his blockers and his quarterback. He was so proud of himself when he made honor band playing the bass clarinet. It's the kind of passion a parent dreams they will see in their child. He is witty and his sense of humor is dry and quick. He keeps up with the adult conversations (sometimes too well). And, he's helpful. He helps his brother with his homework and with his football moves (and with is bloody noses, too.) He is kind to other kids his age. And, he loves and helps his "Mama" (I have no idea when or why he started calling me that...but he does.) I've said before...and I'll say it again...Dane helped me through the hardest times by being there...hugging me...holding my hand...sometimes...with just a look.
We just found out that he has won the Outstanding Superintendent Citizenship Award for the district. It's an unbelievable honor that shows other people see his leadership, integrity, kindness, dependability, intelligence and worth. We will be honoring him and watching him receive the award on the evening of May 16.
Today, as I was driving him to the orthodontist to get his braces, we were laughing and singing. He had a nervous energy. Mid song...my boy reaches over and intertwines his fingers in mine (yep, he sits in the front when it's just us.) We drove the rest of the way -- hand in hand. As he got on the chair, the orthodontist came over and Dane jumped up, faced him and shook his hand. I was proud of his respect. Then, minutes later, as I watched him....with his hands sweetly in his lap and huge feet crossed (showing the hole in his toe)...I actually had a flashback of his life. I stared at him. A boy...growing up so fast...a blessing in this world...
...and I cried.
That damn Irish heart just did me in...
I'm proud of my boy. I love him. I'm honored to watch him grow. He is already my dream come true and I cannot wait to see how his future unfolds....and even when I call him Brace Face....Tin Grin...Metal Mouth... :)
He feels my love in that old soul of his.
He knows.
Friday, April 27, 2012
Veterans....
My husband is a veteran of the United States of America Army. He served for our country and saw things in war settings that I could never imagine. He has lost people he knew in that war. He put his life on the line to help maintain the privileges that we have here in the States. That means he fought for his family...his friends...his neighbors...for me...for my children...and he fought for YOU.
To know Justin is to know that he takes his pride for our country very seriously. His body (beautiful body that it is) is beautifully adorned with all sorts of tattoos that show his American and Army pride. He flies the flag, drives a truck with military stickers proudly shown, honors the veterans and respects the men and women in uniform daily. He always takes Veteran's Day off and brings the boys to the Veteran's Day parade. He has taught our boys things like respecting the flag (hats OFF, boys!), respecting elders, thanking our veterans for their service, and honoring the land they live on (no littering...ever!)
I'm beyond proud of him.
That said.... PTSD is a bitch. Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is a mental health problem that can happen after someone goes through a traumatic event like a war, assault, or disaster. People who suffer from PTSD can have nightmares, flashbacks, difficulty sleeping, and just feel emotionally numb. What sucks is...these symptoms change their day to day life. PTSD is seen by both physical and psychological problems. You will see depression, substance abuse, memory and cognition problems and other physical and mental health problems. The disorder is also rears it's ugly head in social or family life, including work problems, marital problems and family problems. Statistics say that 11-20% of Veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars (Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom) will be diagnosed with PTSD. Diagnosed, people....which is different from the number of soldiers that actually suffer with PTSD undiagnosed.
Justin has the diagnosis of PTSD.
Yet, we all suffer from it.
I'm not saying that like I'm a martyr either... but it's true.
The nightmares are crazy. I can't wake him up. He is BACK in war and it's completely real to him. He thrashes and punches and kicks and sweats up a storm. His breathing is fast...and there is NOTHING I can do to stop them. :( Sometimes, I can almost predict them. A movie...an incident of some sort. And, sometimes, if I sleep really lightly, I can feel them starting...and if I can wake him THEN, we can avoid them. Other times I can't.
And then there are the flashbacks -- and the panic attacks. Those come out of the blue. Trash on the road. Weather. A noise. A blowing grocery bag. A smell. The landscape. When we go to Rocky Pointe, there is a stretch of road that ALWAYS triggers it. The first couple times we didn't realize it was coming. One time, he was driving -- and he flew us off the road....got out of the car and all but collapsed behind the car in a full out panic attack. It was terrifying for me...and the boys. Now we know that I have to drive...and he kicks the seat all the way back...but even then...I can feel his tension and watch as the tears start to fall...all of us in silence.
I cannot fathom what he has seen -- I know very little of it. I cannot make him better or make it go away. All I can do is love that man -- with everything inside of me. All I can do is honor him....let him talk when he wants to -- and be silent when he needs to be. All I can do is have his back....All I can do is be forever proud of my Army husband and forever grateful to be a citizen of this great country.
I love you, baby.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Two days of me time...
...and I'm not sick of me yet.
It's a great place to be. Silent, but full of thought. Peaceful, but feeling courageous. Alone, but far from lonely.
And, I feel like writing...to the person I was not so long ago -- who was obnoxious, vengeful and terribly isolated. Off the cuff...
It's a great place to be. Silent, but full of thought. Peaceful, but feeling courageous. Alone, but far from lonely.
And, I feel like writing...to the person I was not so long ago -- who was obnoxious, vengeful and terribly isolated. Off the cuff...
Hold on, believe me, there is nothing much to fear
Despite the anger when you look in the mirror.
Times were good and they will be again.
You're merely in the middle; you're nowhere near the end.
Hold on, trust me ,you will look back to this day
And be able to see why things turned out this way
Friends will surround you, laughter will come back
You're merely in the middle, but you're on the right track.
Hold on, believe me soon you'll figure it out
And love will conquer the self-hatred and doubt
You'll grip your foundation and begin to grow
You're merely in the middle, look to tomorrow.
Hold on, trust me, you will rise above the pain
You will reach your dreams and dance again in the rain
You'll look in his eyes and know you've found your safe
place
You're merely in the middle, just pace yourself for the race.
Hold on, believe me, there's so much goodness in your life
You will overcome the sadness, sorrow, and strife
You're boys are watching with pride swelling in their eyes
You're merely in the middle, soon the lows will be highs.
Hold on, believe me, trust me I know
Pray, meditate, learn and let go
There is true happiness and peace around the bend
You're merely in the middle, you're nowhere near the end.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
A gentle reminder....to myself...
We all have shortcomings --
and there are a million reasons I have to greatly dislike Sunshine....
yet, as the years pass, I'm reminded of the two reasons I have to greatly love that man....
Dane and Cole.
And I try.....
try ....
try.... to be a better, more loving, compassionate person to the man that gave me those boys...
"we all just want to be happy."
sigh.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Like the top of the Chrysler Building!
(It's a reference to Annie -- about floors, and not backsides, shining...like.....the...top....eh, whatever, if you don't appreciate the reference, screw you.)
Anyway...this blog is about cleaning. Whoopdeedoo! Call all your friends. But, it's been dawning on me lately how very SPOILED I am that I have a husband who loves a clean house -- and even further, likes to make it be so! Justin does a ton of housework around here and while I don't tell him nearly enough, I am very grateful for our equal disdain for a cluttered and/or dirty home. While thinking about it this morning, I laughed. We are definitely a couple that has roles...some are antique and question my firm belief in the woman's movement, while others are just there cause they work and make us happy.
Things we both do:
Work to pay the bills
Love/Play/Dream with the boys
Make the bed
Do the laundry
Cook
Do the dishes
Poop patrol
Feed the dogs
What I do:
Wash the sheets
Put the laundry away
Unload the dishwasher
Clean the boys rooms
Get on my hands and knees for the floors
Toilets
Big shopping trips: Frys/Sam's Club
Throw away garbage in car daily
Takes garbage to garage
pays the bills
Clean out pet cages
Feed the birds and hamster
Make sure it smells yummy (scentsy, air fresheners, etc).
What he does:
Yard work
Clean the garage
Clean the grill
Power wash the patio
Sweep and mop the floors (with enough pinesol to evacuate the household sometimes.)
Change the air filters
Maintenance shopping trips: Home Depot/Ace Hardware
Car Maintenance
Takes garbage from garage to can...can to street...and back up.
Deal with any customer service anything
Windows
Dusting
Feed the fish
...that's all...in a quick glance....and I wanted to say....thank you babe -- for never leaving dishes in the sink, clutter on the counter, dirty clothes on the floor or any of the other things that would drive me to ditch you.
You're a keeper.
Anyway...this blog is about cleaning. Whoopdeedoo! Call all your friends. But, it's been dawning on me lately how very SPOILED I am that I have a husband who loves a clean house -- and even further, likes to make it be so! Justin does a ton of housework around here and while I don't tell him nearly enough, I am very grateful for our equal disdain for a cluttered and/or dirty home. While thinking about it this morning, I laughed. We are definitely a couple that has roles...some are antique and question my firm belief in the woman's movement, while others are just there cause they work and make us happy.
Things we both do:
Work to pay the bills
Love/Play/Dream with the boys
Make the bed
Do the laundry
Cook
Do the dishes
Poop patrol
Feed the dogs
What I do:
Wash the sheets
Put the laundry away
Unload the dishwasher
Clean the boys rooms
Get on my hands and knees for the floors
Toilets
Big shopping trips: Frys/Sam's Club
Throw away garbage in car daily
Takes garbage to garage
pays the bills
Clean out pet cages
Feed the birds and hamster
Make sure it smells yummy (scentsy, air fresheners, etc).
What he does:
Yard work
Clean the garage
Clean the grill
Power wash the patio
Sweep and mop the floors (with enough pinesol to evacuate the household sometimes.)
Change the air filters
Maintenance shopping trips: Home Depot/Ace Hardware
Car Maintenance
Takes garbage from garage to can...can to street...and back up.
Deal with any customer service anything
Windows
Dusting
Feed the fish
...that's all...in a quick glance....and I wanted to say....thank you babe -- for never leaving dishes in the sink, clutter on the counter, dirty clothes on the floor or any of the other things that would drive me to ditch you.
You're a keeper.
Brace Face! Tin Grin! Metal Mouth! Train Tracks!
Just got back from Dane's consultation -- eeegads...
So I made an appt for the 26th...
and emailed Sunshine about money.
(I proposed that he pay the entire monthly payment and start hacking away at his child support arrears. We'll see how that goes over.)
My baby -- in BRACES?
And worse yet...when I was filling out the health history checklist, Dane was watching over my shoulder... He's a healthy tyke, so I'm on a roll checking "no" "no" "no" and one of the questions was, "Has the patient reached puberty?" I check NO.... and Dane clears his throat and says....
"Uh, Mom?" with this smile like I was clearly missing out on the obvious.
My baby -- in PUBERTY?
OH VEY!
So I made an appt for the 26th...
and emailed Sunshine about money.
(I proposed that he pay the entire monthly payment and start hacking away at his child support arrears. We'll see how that goes over.)
My baby -- in BRACES?
And worse yet...when I was filling out the health history checklist, Dane was watching over my shoulder... He's a healthy tyke, so I'm on a roll checking "no" "no" "no" and one of the questions was, "Has the patient reached puberty?" I check NO.... and Dane clears his throat and says....
"Uh, Mom?" with this smile like I was clearly missing out on the obvious.
My baby -- in PUBERTY?
OH VEY!
Monday, March 26, 2012
This one is for Cole

I love this kid.
I should have known from the minute I found out I was pregnant with him -- actually, maybe I should have known by how difficult it was to even GET that (+). He was a strong willed sperm amongst a million (not a high number) of other sperm that mostly consisted of slow moving, double-headed invalids. (if you ever went through infertility of any sort, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't well...I'm sorry -- or well, I'm not, well hell...you know what I mean.) He was determined. And then there was a pregnancy wrought with worry and fear. Doctors and specialists fearing one thing after another -- first his heart, then the Downs markers, then the fluid levels. We were tested and monitored til we were blue in the face (and in the spirit.) Yet on 3/10/2003, a most perfect, most beautiful, most blue eyed beauty entered my life and forever changed my world as I knew it. I was madly in love.
I still am.
He was a great baby and made it easy for me to appear like I had it all together in the most wonderful June Cleaver kind of way. He was adaptable and sweet. He was happy being busy -- silent in a crowd -- most peaceful when the music was loud and dogs were barking. He was WIDE AWAKE and angry during the quiet times (no sleeping for him). He was just living the only way that made him comfortable.
And he still does.
Only now? It's not nearly as appealing or cute. In fact, many times it's down right difficult. I like to call him my "spirited one." He is Cole. He is fantastically individual and personable. He has his own attitude and doesn't like to back down. He is stubborn and brilliant (and maddening). He transitions well -- no behavior problems at school (in fact, the opposite) and house hopping (as a glorious divorce will grant your children) seems effortless for him. However, when he comes home to me, he is clingy and adorable. He sits on top of me, kisses me, tells me he loves me a million times -- and gets jealous of anyone in my space. This goes for his brother, my husband, our dogs, you name it.
The last year has been increasingly "spirited" on the home front -- especially, at Sunshine's, apparently. From the stories I hear, to the excuses his Dad makes - it's safe to say that he is grossly misunderstood and treated to feel like his "spirit" should be dulled. It saddens me and hurts my heart. See, Cole is a lot like I was as a child. I never sat still. I was all over the place with this energy in my body that soared through my veins. It got me in trouble too. So I'm a bit softer on him than I really should probably be. I understand that corporal punishment is not the way to treat this "spirit" in fact it makes the "spirit" fight back. Cole is NOT like his brother -- who a stern voice and "mom" look makes him cry and retreat. Cole attacks the attacker. Without getting into psycho-analytic babble, Cole needs positive reinforcement. In two households that were raised on "spare the rod, spoil the child" mentality, he's basically screwed.
That said -- I am working with him. I am getting him to understand the benefits of good behavior. We talk a lot -- just me and him. I would like to believe that he feels safe with me. I'm a balance I believe he desperately needs and an understanding ear. I tell him that I was JUST LIKE HIM and try to make him see NOW how much easier life could be if he could channel his energy into something positive. I tell him repeatedly how beautiful his spirit is and how lucky we are to have him. I try to build him up.
Yesterday, I was at work. Cole was "spirited" as all get out, from what Justin and Dane told me. When he was asked to go pick up dog poop, Cole revolted in some crazy anarchy 9 year old way. Justin sent him to his room....and he stayed in there for a couple hours (on his own really, but still). When he asked to come out, Justin took away video games for the day. All of them. Computer. Wii. DS. Apparently, the "spirit" came out again....which wound up in total TWO WEEKS of no video games. I was 30 miles away and I could almost hear his "spirit." (And, let's face it... TWO WEEKS punishes ME too....) I was a bit afraid of what I was facing when I was going to get home.
That said....I called to check in a little while later. My husband was mopping the floor (more on that later *grin*). My eldest was playing on the computer. My baby?...Quietly writing a story.
!!!?????
When I got home, Cole was SO EXCITED to show me his story. Sure, he only wrote one chapter (a page and a half)...but it was ANIMATED and BEAUTIFUL. He has props and acted it out as he read. He was PROUD and HAPPY. And, literally folks, I cried. I had the greatest happiest tears in my eyes...that my husband is strong enough to challenge his spirit without breaking him (or backing down)....that his SPIRIT was DANCING. You could see the wheels turning as he told me about ideas for the next chapter. He was WRITING! He was creating a story and expressing himself in his beautiful words.
He is JUST like his Mom.
And my spirit is PROUD!

Monday, March 19, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
"Keep 'em coming"....

I'm HONORED to be part of such an amazing family.
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