9/11

It's still so painful.  I remember the devastation of that day...the loss of so many lives.  But time also has a strange way of making things fade - pain lessen, somewhat.  So always, on this "anniversary" of sorts...I like to re-read a letter I wrote to Dane the morning after it all happened (he was 14 months old).  You know me...I write.   So, I thought I'd share:

September 12, 2001

Dear Dane,

It's the day after a horrible event that rocked our country's foundation. Terrorists attacked America. Planes were hijacked and used as weapons against the people here. Two planes crashed into the World Trade Center (twin towers) in New York. One crashed into the pentagon; another crashed about 80 miles out of Pittsburgh. All of them were commercial airlines with normal day to day passengers aboard. The death toll is easily in the thousands. Many people lost their lives yesterday. This will change our nation. You will read about this in your history books -- your children will too, and so will theirs. I feel the need to write to you and let you know how much this has impacted me. I want to bring emotion to the day that you may not receive reading some textbook. Oh dearest Dane, I will never be the same.

Joel, your daddy, called me on his way to work and said, "Oh God, Kristen, turn on the TV." When I did...I simply couldn't believe what I saw. TV cameras actually had footage of the planes diving into the towers...Oh the fire and debris! I was glued to the TV all day yesterday. On of my best girlfriends, whom I was going to see in SF this weekend, works M-F in Newark. The night before all this went down, she called to say, "I am going to try and get an earlier flight back home." When I heard one of the doomed flights was Newark to San Fran...I almost threw up.

Luckily she is ok......But it so easily could have been different. It was for so many people...and, in the coming days and months I am sure to hear of many people with direct ties to the dead. I may very well know someone.

I am disgusted by the cowardly act -- literally cried and hugged you a hundred times yesterday. I thought about bringing another child in this world and for the only time in my life, thought, "maybe not." I was terrified wondering WHERE the "unaccounted for" planes were, wondering if one of them could actually strike us...Heartbroken thinking of those people on the planes and in each of the towers....Those that called their families before the died....Those that didn't...Their fear. Shocked to see the WTC fall down in one giant mushroom cloud....So incredibly crushed that those firefighters, policemen/women and triage helpers all were injured/or died in the debris. I was Angry --wanted revenge...."We need to just bomb the hell out of them!" I didn't really care who "them" was -- and still don't know for sure. I was just absolutely devastated...My tears fell on your beautiful face over and over again.

Today I awoke feeling like yesterday was a dream. I am not close in proximity to New York or Washington DC -- but I am there in so many ways. I am there in the mother that won't hold her children again. I am there in the wife that won't see her husband again. I am there as a friend who lost a loved one. I am there as an employee who lost a great many coworkers and possibly a livelihood. I am there as an American, who experienced a tragedy. I am there.

We still aren't certain who did it....U.S. Officials quickly began focusing on fugitive terrorist Osama bin Laden as the architect of the devastation. This morning, bin Laden congratulated the people who carried out the deadly terrorist strikes on the United States, but denied that he was involved. Who knows who did it for sure....and who knows what will happen when we actually find out.

Yet, I am grateful for the lives saved....the families that will be reunited. I am grateful for MY FAMILY...the love that we have that will continue to grow. I am inspired by the coming together of our nation - the prayer groups, the blood donations, the all togetherness of it all. And today, I will hold you and love you and tell you everything will be ok...and it will be....somehow -- someway.

Continued thoughts and prayers go out for everyone,

I love you,

Mom

Sigh.  It just makes it so fresh to me -- and allows the tears to fall that I  feel are justified as time marches on and makes it bearable.  Since then, I've learned that I did in fact personally know someone who died in the towers that day -- and I've also come to meet another who's brother and best friend also died that day.  I know that time has a way of lessening the devastation -- but I feel like today -- we need to stop and remember what it felt like that day and honor all those lives that were lost.  We need to remember the fear, but also celebrate the patriotism that came from that day.  I also feel like it's imperative that we STOP and thank someone from our military who defend our lives everyday.  I'm going to go on a walk on this early rainy Arizona morning and while I count the flags on the houses in the neighborhood, I'm likely going to get soaked in thankfulness.   Thankful for my children.  Thankful for my husband.  Thankful for my family.  Thankful for my freedom.  Thankful for my country.  Thankful for the lesson.

I have to get better at blogging on a more regular basis...I know this.  You tell me that I need to write about happy things -- about things that look to the future rather than giving the past the middle finger.  That's what you said.  But, in general I don't write all the time because I think I need "something" to write about.  My life is a bit monotonous, and therefore, so is my blog.  I know this, too.  (My Mom told me that boring was good -- she has a point -- I haven't had this much NOT to say in a long time.)  If I think long and hard about it, I know that I write too much about the divorce...too much about having too little...too much on mundane things...and less about thoughts that really matter....or maybe I don't.  I don't know.  See, I'm a simple person.  I love whom I love with an unending passion.  Unending.  That's just who I am.  That is why I write about the love, friendship, my children and my bonds with others....It's also why I write about the intensity of losing any of those things.  Or, perhaps, fear of losing them.  Unending attachment.  It's the fiber that holds my heart together.  I know this and I can't be sorry for it.  But for you, my friend, I'll try to write more cause I love, love, love that people you read it.  :)

Memories of my Dad 6/20/44 - 8/16/07

Being his baby girl, (KrisTEN, cause he knew I'd be a ten, Ruth, after his mother), Nebraska, The Jet, the Kealy cabin, the lake, the river, fire, campfire songs, "I don't know I'll ask ya" "The Bumblebee song"  gas cans, learning how to drive, playing cards:  pitch, buck...jeeps, University, St. Cecelia, St. Michaels, stories of his childhood, Joe, Donna, Barb, Ruth, Dickie, the spanking machine, he was the best back tickler, relay races in the back yard, the hidden room, tornado warnings (especially the night he was really sick), Cinder, Smokey, Patty, the cemetary, Kealy Construction Company, his laughter (almost a cackle), winston cigarettes, shlitz, him cooking breakfast in the morning, doing dishes in the evening, Arizona, Exeter, Hillcrest, buying me a gigantic koala bear holding a baby koala bear (as big as me) when I got the chicken pox, knowing what my temperature was by a kiss on my forehead, Nebraska football parties, playing volleyball, heating the pool, posed pictures at Easter, Santa Claus, buying my first car...and my second...and my third...the lecture he gave me about putting a "pro choice" bumper sticker on the car that HE bought.  He was proud of being Irish, proud of being Catholic, proud of being a hard core Republican (proof that no man is perfect.)  Camelback, The Kealy Irish Scramble, "The Famous", jumping up and spinning, football, Notre Dame, ASU, the Jets, the Bears, loyalty, love, my Mom, seeing my Dad kiss my Mom, seeing them slow dance and him grab her "fanny,"  My Wild Irish Rose, 12 days of Christmas, Silent Night, The Little Drummer Boy (ba rum ba dum dum), road trips, La Jolla, the beach, sunflower seeds, his white gilligan hat, flip flops, his toenails, the park, The Marine Room, The Chart House, walks to the pier, sunsets, green flash, Del Mar, betting the horses (with his money), Mexico, Wymas, the wave that took him out bodysurfing, our own plane (that almost killed us all -- but we would have died laughing), Rocky Point, learning to drive stick shift, Jack Daniels, Kealy Development, the office, his desk, the pictures of us, jeeps, lexus SUVs, supporting my sports, volleyball, diving, and expecially basketball where he drove my mom to every game, no matter how far away it was...and got kicked out of a few games for being VERY supportive, standing up for me, wanting to beat up the boyfriend that beat me up...while in his underwear...in front of 300 people, coming with me to alcohol classes and court, the forehead to forehead come to jesus moments, taking me to get my licence, giving me odds and end jobs for extra money, crying at my high school graduation, Our Lady of Perpetual Help, being an eucharistic minister, tearing up everytime any of us kids came to receive communion, laughing when Mom did, his absolute dedication to God, being the only one that didn't laugh at me when I got confirmed as "John", dropping me off at college, loving my dream of wanting to be a nurse, making me stick it out when I wanted to come home, crying at my college graduation, Kohl's Ranch cabin, the golfcart, Tontozona, Payson, loading up the Uhaul and waving us goodbye as we drove off to Green Bay - telling me I didn't need luck cause I had "it" and would be fine, celebrating my jobs, visiting, Packer games, boat rides, giving Sunshine permission to marry me, crying with me as I got engaged, walking me down the aisle (after we had a shot of Jack), wiping out on the bubble filled dance floor (doing that damn spin move again), offering advice, showing up for our wedding celebration in Wisconsin instead of just fedexing the video...(even if he shocked me by walking in my bedroom while I was asleep naked,) loving our first owned home, his pride of walking around the Notre Dame campus showing us where he lived (now an all girls dorm and they thought he was a creeper), celebrating each pregnancy, devastated with each pregnancy loss, showing up with Mom in the nick of time for Dane's birth (even if it was a 2000 mile flight, they made it!), mowing my lawn, stocking my fridge and rocking my screaming baby when I just about lost my mind, making it possible to move home, giving Sunshine a job, working hard, IEC, KNK, being madly in love with my mom, holding her hand, finishing her sentences, Bandit, White Dog, the patios, the coolers, the pools, the freezing winter swims, his red face, his straight teeth, his balding blonde hair, football pools, making bets, his bookie, his command for respect, his tender nature, his quiet strength, his pride in being a grandfather, taking my children fishing, being at Dane's games earlier then everyone else (despite back pain), his little chair, his floppy hat and his sunflower seeds, telling me I was a great mother, freaking out when he walked in and saw me breastfeeding Cole, his ever present pacing for each of Cole's surgeries, his dream for my boys, him showing me his new real estate (the cemetary plots -- with "such a great view of the mountain), his disappointment in my divorce, his love, his advice, his tears, his blue eyes, cancer, rolling his eyes cause I got a chihuahua, wanting the nurses/doctors to wait til I was there for just about anything, telling me he loved me, my mother's love, the rosary, knowing he knew where he was headed...his last breath.

....off the cuff, anyway -- there are SO MANY MORE.... 

Today, I will be attending my son's first football game of the year -- and I'm gonna bet -- my Dad will be there too!

I love you, Dad.  Thank you for blessing my life...always.

School is in session! This Mom's reflection of new beginnings....

It's always a little bittersweet.  The start of school is just another reminder that time goes quickly -- and my boys are growing like weeds.  This year was significantly more stressful.  My oldest is starting Junior High.  I will admit to having to fight back the tears when we went and picked up his schedule and toured the school.  I remember vividly doing that myself when I was going into 7th grader, so how in the world was it possible that my child was in 7th grade!?  And then my youngest is starting at a new school too...4th grade but in an honors school that he tested into (I have such reservations about this type of segregation...)  I'm just so not impressed with this school, but he wants to try (and frankly, his Dad insisted.)  So two boys + two new schools = almost TOO much for this mamabear.

First Day of School

So today is Friday -- and the week has gone exceptionally well.  I really can't complain.  The boys both seem to really like their schools.  The homework has started and we are back on a schedule complete with practices and bedtimes.  I'm proud of myself, too.  My work schedule is such that I only worked on Wednesday this school week.  I've had a lot of time to be by myself.  I've been reading and decluttering.  It feels good.  I even have been trying to take some baby steps into helping my children find their independence.  First day I drove to school: 

Then, I drove them to the bus stop (first time ever on buses):

 
Then today, I let them WALK to the bus stop.  Dane walked Cole to his (it's about 1/2 a mile away) and then walked back to his:

OF COURSE (I'm sure you were going to ask,) I did stalk them...and drove to each bus stop to be sure that they got there on time and in one piece.  :) 

So, the plan is that they are going to be walking to the bus stop -- and then after school, Cole will have to wait for Dane's bus (10 minutes) and then they can walk home together.  We are hoping that we will all be comfortable enough with this that they will be able to do it even when I am off to work. 

I'm assuming they will have no problem with it -- I'm anticipating that I will.  Sigh. 

My loves!

School is about to start again...

As usual, the anxiety is starting to sneak in.  What is different about this year? Both boys will be going to new schools.  I am unsure of just about everything.  They seem excited, so I'm trying to be the best mamabear and roll with it.  My oldest will be riding the school bus...and I will be leaving for work before that...so he will be responsible to get to the bus on time (that is after the dogs are out and the house is locked up.)  I fear the bus...mostly because I was a "mean girl" and I know what happens on those buses...Karma is a bitch -- but especially scary when I'm afraid it will unleash it's fury on my beautiful, kind, tender 12 year old. 

This morning I was listening to music and a Kenny Chesney song came on about living your life different.  "People say they'd never change a thing....Oh, but I would!"   And, I thought to myself...would I change anything and what would it be?  It's no lie that I'm finally in a very happy place.  I absolutely love my life -- I love who I am, the job that I do and the friends I surround myself with.  I have two gorgeous and healthy children, a husband who adores me and money in the bank.  So, in so many ways, would I change the things I have done that ultimately got me where I am today? 

The quick answer is "no."

I wouldn't want the course of my life to change much simply because I am where I am today.  I don't regret any of the stepping stones...However...with that said, there are things that I wish I would have done differently.  I should have been more kind.  There are two specific times when I remember that I was mean...just to be mean.  Why?  I suppose looking back it may be because I craved the attention -- needed to feel power when I really felt weak, etc...but it was just plain mean.  I've since apologized to one of the people I was mean to....she acted like it was no big deal.  We had become friends again but I still felt like I needed to say something to her.  It didn't really make me feel better -- but I do think it made her realize that I do have sorrow for the hurt I caused her...I'd like to think that helped, but maybe it didn't...and that's okay too. 

I don't know...I guess the moral of this rambling is that we just need to be kind to each other.  There are so many times when biting my lip has rewarded me.  It's a lesson I'd love to teach my children.  Do NOT bully -- stand up for the lil guy...  respect each other...use words instead of fists...  JUST BE KIND....and if not...well....send them to me...I've already blown it.  :)

My boys come home today --

I woke up to a text from my oldest....he can't wait to be home...and it just went on from there.  I LOVE my boys...I mean...I literally sit here IN TEARS in love with them...like a kid a Christmas....

...and it's only Wednesday.  July 11, 2012.

But, it's "Welcome Home Wednesday"....and I"ve missed them....like crazy.

The love I feel for them is easy to explain to another Mom.... it's our duty -- our blessing..... but, it's hard to explain to someone who isn't divorced....I have a love/hate relationship with their time with their Dad.  He loves them -- as much as I do.....and I am so blessed that I had married...and had children....with one of the good ones....he LOVES his kids...is a stand up man.... and therefore, deserves time with them.  It's good for the boys -- it's right for their father.  I'm blessed (God, thank you for letting me see the blessing through the hurt) that he married my friend...someone I trust.  (odd...I know.)  Someone I KNOW is a good mom...someone I really do believe that loves my children.  It makes Sunshine a better father....or actually...maybe it doesn't....but it makes me very comfortable sending my children to their home.  I do appreciate her....and my kids do too....that really stands for something....but I hate that they aren't with me all the time.  My baby boy got stung by a scorpion over at his dad's infested house (I hate that house - remember that was "our" house first...actually it still is in my name, but I digress)....he didn't tell me until the next day --  Cole told me he wanted to call but his Dad said no.  I HATE THAT.

Any which way....it's my time now....

Dane tells me....it always is.  "We're always your time, mama" he says.  He tells me "I am" his parent...and he makes no deviance in that.  I am his mom...I am his comfort.

I have a feeling that this kid feels me....and tells me what he thinks I need to hear...things I need to feel.

I'm sorry for that.

It's not his job to ease my heart.  I LOVE that he LOVES me....but I know it.  I LOVE that he WORRIES about my heart, but I wish it wasn't necessary.  I LOVE that he wishes to be here... I LOVE that he calls it home...  I LOVE that he tells me how much he misses me...how much he misses Justin.    He says he feels "at peace" here (his words).....  I LOVE that we provide that for him.

Hurry home, Children....and prepare yourself for a whole lotta lovin'

This has been burning a hole in my brain all damn day.  One half of me completely agrees.    One half of me completely disagrees.  There was the time in a state diving meet in high school -- when I was really doing suprisingly well...and the dive was coming up that I dreaded...a one and a half twist flip.  I hated those twist flips.  I'd done them, never very well though and so it just made me nervous.  All I had to do was an average dive.  I was so nervous and completely talked my way out of success.  I don't know what happened...my approach was good, initial bounce was perfect, started the flip, hands in place and my body just sort of flopped.  I landed after a flip and 3/4 -- majorly overrotated and didn't so much barely "twist."  I hit the water and heard the "oooohs" and then heard the announcer state "FAIL DIVE" -- I wanted to drown and attempted to stay under water until all the whispers subsided.  When I finally did surface, my dad and sister were by the wall - disappointed but worried about my ego.  That was pretty much the end of that meet for me.  It took me years to talk about it -- so angry with myself.  I beat myself in that meet and I hated it. 

Years.

But now I can sort of laugh about it -- confirming to me that I am in fact over it -- and further reminding me that not everyone in my high school is still talking about it.  :)

But then I think of the almighty divorce and when I speak of it -- speak of the demise of my marriage and speak of the end of my strongest friendship yet, the end of my dream and the end of my family as it was, I still hurt deeply.  I have deep sadness when I see the weathering it's had on Sunshine's face and the changes I've made in his soul.  I have terrible sorrow when I think of my children and what they've been through -- what they will go through -- and how our decisions to end our marriage may effect their relationships in the future.  It literally PAINS me.

I'd not like to believe it is because I have not healed, however, and that is where my conflict has resided today.

I had a conversation with a great friend who has also been through a divorce about this saying today which brought a bit of clarity to me.  It went something like this...

"the saying sounds about accurate. there are some things that initially are just too painful to talk about. over time it becomes easier. i know for me, when i can finally talk about something then i have moved past it."


"what about your divorce?
cause it still causes me pain
(not YOUR divorce, pighead, but mine...LOL)"

"mine is still painful to talk about. i seriously don't ever think i will ever get over it. does anyone ever really get over a divorce? i don't think so. i think it will always be a source of pain. that is just my opinion...."

"so you are saying you will never heal?
even though I'm remarried....and so is he...we are clearly moved on....
still hurts.
but does it hurt cause of MY HEART or cause of HIS....or a promise broken...or disappointment....or is it cause of the kids.
"things that make you go hmmmmmmmm"

"I will heal, but there will still be effects. I broke my leg in high school and it healed. however, there are times when it still causes me pain...."

And just like that -- a lightbulb went off in my head and it all made sense.

Much like the anticipation for a beautiful dive that I believed I could do well....my approach to my marriage was flawless and the beginning was right on, but somewhere in the middle things just got messed up.  The ending was much more devastating than the pain of the water, the "oohs and ahhs" were more frequent, yet still terribly saddening, the disappointment from my family and my "team" were literally too much to handle. 

Divorce isn't just "one of life's pains."  It is the most brutally, awful, degrading, depressing, downright disappointing time ever and yet so many people do it.  So it makes sense to me that it will creep up and smack me in when I'm not expecting it.

How I react is proof that I've healed.

I just have this feeling that something good is about to happen... no reason at all why, not doing anything different...it's just a hunch...and I like it...I like it a lot.

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.

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.     :)  

Surprise! Another Welcome Home Wednesday brings me to my keyboard...



Last day of 6th grade



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. 

Read, re-read, repeat.

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.  :)